The Practical Epicure

Daring Dan the Dinosaur Man

2012-01-24T19:13:00.000-08:00

Last week, I facetiously mentioned that this blog isn't my "Fifth Grade Diary." And so I thought that since self-deprecating humor is about the only safe thing I can make jokes about anymore, I would give you some selections from my dear old diary. However, I was only able to find my junior high/high school journal instead. Still, I was so excited to share with you all of the Extremely Serious thoughts that I had back then! We could laugh at how funny it is to take one's self so seriously and how every teenager thinks that they are the only person in the world who really "gets" music or lays awake at night thinking about the meaning of life.

But as I skimmed through my journal, I realized that no one, NO ONE could ever EVER read this. I am going to buy a little locked safe so that my adolescent thoughts will never be exposed to the world.

When I was younger, I used to hope that keeping a journal would somehow preserve me for posterity. Maybe in the year 2100, some appreciative great grandchild of mine would publish my journals to great acclaim. The year's best non-fiction! These journals about coming of age around the turn of the millennium are to be treasured not only as a historical artifact, but also as a tender, dramatic work of art!

Considering my ulterior motives for even keeping a journal and my bizarre fantasies of becoming a historical artifact, I hope you can understand why my melodramatic words can never NEVER be published on the internet.

I was, however, surprised to find taped in the back a little name tag: on one side was printed a name,* and on the other was written in Sharpie "Daring Dan the Dinosaur Man." This little scrap was a souvenir I obtained one summer at junior high camp. That is, this young man worked at the camp doing something probably boring during the day, but during the nightly skits he assumed the alter ego Daring Dan the Dinosaur Man. I think he dressed up in khaki with a pith helmet! Sooo hottt!!! And how could I resist an attractive guy** making jokes to dinosaur puppets?

Both my girl friend and I were completely infatuated with him. So when we found his NAME TAG laying around on the ground, you would have thought we had won the ultimate gift from the heavens: a legitimate excuse to talk to him! Every free moment was spent planning how we we would nonchalantly approach him, uncreepily return his name tag, and suavely begin a fascinating discussion about how funny the dinosaur puppets are! Maybe he would ask for our Hotmail addresses!

But we never did because we were petrified by his good looks, age, and the many older girls who were always with him. We just mooned over him and at the end of the week, I gave my friend my iPod in exchange for keeping the name tag. Just kidding! We didn't have iPods back then, and she probably thought it was weird to keep it. Whatever.

Enough teenage angst! Here are some cookies!

World Peace Cookies

from: Epicurious

1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1/3 cup natural unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
11 tablespoons (1 stick plus 3 tablespoons) unsalted butter, room temperature
2/3 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
5 ounces extra-bittersweet chocolate (do not exceed 85% cacao), chopped (no pieces bigger than 1/3 inch)

Sift flour, cocoa, and baking soda into medium bowl. Using electric mixer, beat butter in large bowl until smooth but not fluffy. Add both sugars, vanilla, and sea salt; beat until fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add flour mixture; beat just until blended (mixture may be crumbly). Add chopped chocolate; mix just to distribute (if dough doesn't come together, knead lightly in bowl to form ball). Divide dough in half. Place each half on sheet of plastic wrap. Form each into 1 1/2-inch-diameter log. Wrap each in plastic; chill until firm, about 3 hours. DO AHEAD: Can be made 3 days ahead. Keep chilled.

Preheat oven to 325°F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper. Using thin sharp knife, cut logs crosswise into 1/2-inch-thick rounds. Space 1 inch apart on prepared sheets. Bake 1 sheet at a time until cookies appear dry (cookies will not be firm or golden at edges), 11 to 12 minutes. Transfer to rack; cool. DO AHEAD: Can be made 1 day ahead. Store airtight at room temperature.

*Name not disclosed just in case this guy ever decides to Google himself and finds this blog and is really weirded out.

**Age indeterminate. I hope he wasn't like, 30 or anything

Granola Bars and Some Dog Pictures

2012-01-17T20:59:00.000-08:00

So one of my weekly resolutions since I started this blog in 2010 has been to "blog more regularly." But then I feel all of this pressure to write something really entertaining, because this is not my Fifth Grade diary, and I already have a Facebook account where I can share the inexhaustible minutae of my day ("Just had reason to use semicolons in a list. Bam.") Plus we all know my photography skills aren't exactly attracting you here. And most of my recipes can be found elsewhere online.

BUT! Even though I've promised it before, this time I will really really really try to somewhat frequently post something somewhat worthwhile for you. So here instead of a funny story, I present my dog Mac:

Yes, he is a male dog. (One profile glimpse of him standing and all doubt is gone!) But still, it's not like dogs have gender identity that is tied to their apparel or anything. Plus he totally has the Disney Princess eyes in this picture.

Here he next is in my masculine-looking running sunglasses and C's scarf. So I think that averages out to an appropriate look for a neutered male dog.

You're killing me with your cuteness!*

Five Minute, No-Bake Granola Bars
adapted from: Hurry Up Vegan

Makes 10-12 bars

2 1/2 cups rolled or quick oats (rolled is better)
1 cup seeds or nuts (use raw or roasted, chop them or leave them whole)
1/2 cup raisins
1/2 cup chocolate chips
2/3 cup nut or seed butter of choice
1/2 cup agave nectar or honey

1) Mix oats, seeds/nuts, raisins, and chocolate chips in a large bowl.

2) Whisk together nut butter and agave; this works best over a double boiler if you have the time. You can also microwave the nut butter and agave. Pour into oat mixture, and mix well, till everything is sticky and combined. If it’s too dry, add a bit more agave.

3) Press mixture into a shallow baking dish that you’ve lined with foil or saran wrap. Cover with more foil/saran, press well into the baking dish, and refrigerate for 4 hours. Cut into bar shapes, wrap, and keep refridgerated till ready to use.

OR:

4) After mixing wet ingredients with dry, crumble mixture into bite sized pieces and bake at 375 degrees for about forty minutes, or until crispy and brown. [IC note: I've never tried baking them, so tell me how it turns out.]

Ingrid note: I know agave can be hard to find, but I actually found that the bars were too sweet with honey and I preferred the agave. Also, this recipe is very adaptable and you can take inspiration from your favorite mass-manufactured corporation-feeding wastefully packaged granola bar!** I made some walnut, craisin, dark chocolate ones a while ago and they were just divine.

*Tell me how you feel about this whole dog-instead-of-words thing, and I might make it a regular feature. Or never ever take a picture of my dog ever again. Just be nice. I'm very sensitive on his behalf.

**I have been known to eat 4+ Kashi bars in one day, so, no judgement.

New Week's Resolutions

2012-01-08T20:57:00.000-08:00

I never really make New Year's Resolutions because I am constantly making new resolutions on a weekly basis. Naturally, it is difficult to always be making permanent changes in one's life, but it's the thrill of challenge that motivates me to not just spend all day watching Masterpiece Theater adaptations of Dickens novels on Netflix. (I'm talking about you, Bleak House.) It also makes me rather insufferable. Who wants to be around someone who is constantly imposing new rules about how often we walk the dog, or how often we are allowed to buy tortilla chips or how we arrange the spices in the spice cabinet? So I've learned not to make resolutions including the word "we" unless "we" have actually discussed this and decided on a resolution together.

But I've read that sharing your resolutions is the best way to help yourself achieve them. So, this week, I've already resolved to:

1. Not lay down again after my alarm goes off in the mornings
2. Drink green tea in the afternoons instead of coffee
3. Always keep the ice trays filled
4. Not be on the internet last thing before I go to bed
5. Buy and send all birthday cards and presents early (birthdays begin in late January, so I've got to start now)
6. Throw away all of my old socks that I hate and never wear
7. Eat "real" supper even if I'm by myself

Ideally, I will begin to do these things this week, and will keep doing them the rest of my life, adding more things each week, until I become a perfect person!*

To be honest though, this #7 resolution is kind of embarrassing, because for someone who posts on her food blog like 8 times per year, I actually eat a lot of atrociously non-real meals. The other night, I made cookies and pretty much just ate cookies and cookie dough until I realized it was supper time and I wasn't hungry. Or I'll graze on pickled carrots and chunks of smoked Gouda and roasted almonds and apple slices: a meal which would be fine at an indie art gallery opening,** but is not appropriate when you have access to a full kitchen and stocked pantry.

So here is a first attempt at "real supper" that I made even though C was working late and I could have just as easily had over-easy-eggs-on-Ezekiel-bread-toast AGAIN. But I didn't.

Braised Greens and Lentil Salad

1 cup lentils, washed and picked over

1 large bundle of braising greens, (collards, kale, chard, mustard... I got mine from a bin labeled "braising greens" so I don't really know,) washed and chopped into bite-sized pieces
1/2 onion, chopped
2 tablespoons oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

4 oz feta, crumbled

Combine 2 cups water and the lentils in a saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, and then simmer, covered, for 15-20 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion, and sautee until translucent. Add the greens and toss to coat with oil. Add the vinegar and 2 tablespoons water to the pan and cover, cooking for 5-10 (?) minutes. You want the greens to be cooked, but not brown--their bitterness should be gone. Remove from heat.

Gently mix together the cooked lentils, braised greens, and feta. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and more balsamic vinegar.

*Previous experience suggests that this is not a likely outcome
**Not that I've ever been to one, but if someone ever asked me to plan one, I would definitely include the smoked Gouda.

I used to have a blog.

2011-09-24T11:51:00.000-07:00

I was going to title this post “I used to be a blogger” butI thought that would be overly self-flattering (or denigrating depending on howyou feel about the title “blogger.”) Ifyou are on Facebook with me, your newsfeed has probably been clogged lately withmy many self-pitying posts about how busy I am, no time to wash my hair, spilledwater on a stack of ungraded exams, and spilled green tea on my laptop. (Andyet I still have time to post interesting articles and baby animal pictures?)

They told me trying to keep up a blog in grad school wouldbe near impossible. Of course I tried toprove them wrong, because I am a strong, independent woman who alwaysoverestimates my amount of free time. However,as usual, those voices of reason inside my head were right. It’s not that I literally don’t have any timeto keep up the blog, but more that I’ve chosen to allocate my limited freetime elsewhere… like to cooking food. Becauseeven if I sacrificed that cooking time to spend writing blog posts, I wouldhave no food, and not only would I be very hangry* and uncreative, I would havenothing to write about.

So here is my plea to you, dear readers. Don’t give up on this little blog just yet! Just like chocolate cake that has been inyour freezer for a month, or a $10 gift card toYounkers,** something is betterthan nothing. Mostly I’ve beenintimidated away from posting because I don’t have time to write and edit somuch. (We already know that the foodphotography doesn’t take me too long.) Sountil this crazy schoolwork lets up (in another five years or so,) I’ll try to keepposting recipes, but maybe not so many accompanying words.***

Black Bean and Smoked Cheddar Pizza

For pita dough:
from: The Kitchn

1 cup warm water (not hot or boiling)
2 teaspoons active dry or instant yeast
2 1/2 - 3 cups flour
2 teaspoons salt
1-2 teaspoons olive oil (optional)

Mix the water and yeast together and let sit for about five minutes until the yeast is dissolved. Add 2 1/2 cups of the flour (saving the last half cup for kneading), salt, and olive oil. Stir until a shaggy dough is formed.

Sprinkle a little of the extra flour onto your clean work surface and turn out the dough. Knead the dough for about 10 minutes total, until the dough is smooth and elastic. Add more flour as needed to keep the dough from sticking to your hands or the work surface, but try to be sparing. It's better to use too little flour than too much. If you get tired, stop and let the dough rest for a few minutes before finishing kneading.

Clean the bowl you used to mix the dough and film it with a little olive oil. Set the dough in the bowl and turn it until it's coated with oil. Cover with a clean dishcloth or plastic wrap and let the dough rise until it's doubled in bulk, 1 - 2 hours.

Pre-heat the oven to 450°. If you have a baking stone, put it in the oven to heat. If you don't have a baking stone, place a large baking sheet on the middle rack to heat.

Gently deflate the dough and turn it out onto a lightly floured work surface. Divide the dough into 8 equal pieces and gently flatten each piece with your hand. Sprinkle the pieces with a little more flour and then cover them with a kitchen towel or plastic wrap wrap until you're ready to bake them.

Using a floured rolling pin, roll four of the pieces into circles 8-9 inches wide and about a quarter inch thick.

Ingrid note: If your dough is sticking to the counter and/or rolling pin, sprinkle some cornmeal on the dough. Also, this sauce is only enough for maybe 4 pita pizzas. You can freeze the other four dough balls for future use. Simply wrap each ball tightly in plastic, then place together in a plastic bag in the freezer.

For sauce:

1 28-oz can fire-roasted tomatoes

1 large onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 jalapeno, seeded and diced

Cumin

Red pepper flakes

1 15-oz can black beans, rinsed and drained

Cilantro, chopped

1-2 cups smoked cheddar cheese, grated (I would suggest ~ 1/2 cup for each pita round)

Preheat a large (preferably cast iron) pan with a few teaspoons of oil over medium heat. Place a pita round in pan and cover. Checking every 2-3 minutes, cook until the bottom is browned in spots and puffy. Flip the pita, and then very quickly spread some sauce on it, and top with cilantro and shredded cheese. Cover and cook for a few more minutes, or until the bottom is cooked and the cheese is melted and bubbling.

*hungry-angry. I knewsome of you might ask or assume it’s a typo.

**A real Christmas gift from my boss in high school.

***As an avid blog skimmer myself, I realize a lot of peopledon’t read the words anyway. Well TOOBAD FOR YOU! YOU MISSED OUT WHEN THEWORDS WERE GOOD!

What To Cook For Your Favorite Visitors from Minnesota

2011-09-01T20:10:00.000-07:00

During the first few August days of each new school year, I often sit restlessly in class as the lecture speeds by like a bro on a skateboard and my mind naturally wanders back to the sweet memories of summer, which already seem so far away.

Those were the days when, instead of a cold, lonely serving of leftover stir fry eaten at my school office, I actually ate a real supper with real people who even laughed at my witty commentary. (Or at least politely pretended.)

Like many of my happiest memories, Jed and Emma's visit* this summer included much conversation and laughter around shared meals. In fact, I spent a lot of time before they came planning what I would cook for them: when you have so little time with people you enjoy so much, you don't necessarily want to spend too many hours slaving in a hot kitchen over laborious meal preparation. Still, with two food-centric people such as these two, you also want to make sure you serve them something fresh and over-the-top delicious.

This is a great late-summer recipe that takes advantage of the last in-season tomatoes, and is certainly appropriate for serving to your special house guests as a light supper on a hot evening.

Grilled Panzanella

from: bon appetit

1 1/2 cups small to medium fresh basil leaves, divided
2/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
1 large shallot, thinly sliced
1 small Fresno chile or red jalapeño, seeded, finely chopped
2 teaspoons finely grated lemon zest
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 pounds ripe tomatoes, assorted colors and sizes
1 12-ounce loaf rustic or sourdough bread, cut into 1/2"-thick slices
1 pinch garlic clove, halved

1 15-oz can black beans, drained (optional--if you want to sneakily serve a side dish as a main course; white beans might be good as well)

Purée 3/4 cup basil leaves and 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons oil in a blender until smooth and only tiny flecks of basil remain. Set a fine-mesh strainer over a large bowl. Strain mixture into bowl, pressing on solids to extract as much oil as possible; discard solids in strainer. Add shallot, chile, lemon zest, and lemon juice to basil oil; whisk to blend. Season to taste with salt and pepper. DO AHEAD Dressing can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and chill. Return to room temperature and rewhisk before using.

Slice tomatoes into assorted wedges, rounds, and cubes; add to bowl with dressing. Toss to coat; let marinate at room temperature for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, build a medium-hot fire in a charcoal grill, or preheat a gas grill to high. Brush bread with remaining 1/3 cup olive oil. Season with salt and pepper. Grill bread until charred in spots, about 2 minutes per side. Rub grilled bread with cut sides of garlic clove. Tear bread into 1"-2" pieces. [Ingrid note: I just "grilled" mine by toasting it in a cast iron skillet over medium-high heat.]

Add bread remaining 3/4 cup basil leaves, and black beans (if desired) to bowl with tomato mixture; toss to coat. Season panzanella to taste with salt and pepper and serve.

*I can't wait to see you two again this December!

Dear Freetime

2011-08-17T19:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Freetime,

We had a great summer together, didn't we?

Remember how we used to stay up late with our friends and then sleep in on weekends until the hot sun was already high in the sky? I always felt so comfortable around you—I could lounge around the house with no makeup, greasy hair, and a faded t-shirt, and you never judged me. Of course you supported my productive endeavors, but you also reminded me that it’s okay to sit around and read Icelandic murder mysteries, or maybe just soak in the pool.

However, we both know that we have come to a parting of ways. I hope this won’t be too awkward and that we can still be Facebook friends and meet up for a nice coffee once in a while, but I don't want to lead you on by saying that we have any real future together.

It hurts me to know I have to let you go, and please know that I will miss you and I will treasure all of the memories we made together.

Farewell,

Ingrid

Sangria Smoothie

If you made Sangria Blanca and did not eat all of the booze-soaked fruit, you can repurpose it for one last lazy summer treat. Spoon all the fruit chunks and liquid into an ice cube tray and freeze. Simply blend the fruit cubes when frozen.

If you don’t have leftover sangria fruit, you can easily make some by mixing chopped fruit with a few splashes of brandy and triple sec, as well as some sugar, then freezing as explained above. Enjoy your last few days of summer or your first few days of school!

This is not a DIY Blog...

2011-08-05T19:27:00.000-07:00

...for so many reasons, first and foremost because except for cooking, I’m a huge BIFSE (Buy It From Someone Else) advocate. I’m very admiring of those people I know who can produce Etsy-worthy creations, but alas, I am not among their elite league. Firstly, I blame it on my mother, who did not spend a lot of time doing crafts with me in my younger years. Yes, she taught me how to read, drove me to French Horn lessons, rode her bike alongside me when I ran, proofread and edited all of my important school papers, and showed me her secret to fantastic corn on the cob, but she did not teach me the craft of crafting.

My dad, on the other hand, was the family craft master; there was a special section of our pantry just for his boxes of craft supplies, not to mention all of the boxes of random fabric in the basement. When my brother and I were little, he helped us make paper mache piñatas, Santa Claus door decorations from old pantyhose and hangers, and lots of pony bead bracelets. Of course, we all know that the crafting gene is really only propagated through the maternal line, which is why there are so few male crafters and why I myself am not a crafter. But even if I wanted to, how could I possibly budget more time to make crafts? My days are already filled with:

· laying in bed “waking up” before I actually get up,
· reading journal articles
· finding pictures of cute baby animals to post on C’s Facebook wall
· laying on the floor “relaxing” while I summon the motivation to do crunches
· trying to find where all of my bobby pins/chapstick/favorite running socks went
· laying on the floor “stretching” after I run
· perusing Facebook to hoping to find the latest and best wedding and/or vacation pictures
· compulsively organizing my email inbox/bookmarked recipes/sock drawer/spice cabinet/iTunes library
· thinking about doing the dishes
· writing notes to people and not mailing them for another month
· editing, copying, and pasting SPSS graphs into PowerPoint
· making toast and/or smoothies
· texting Arrested Development quotes to my brother
· fruitlessly searching the internet for the solutions to SAS/SPSS/R/Mplus output errors.
· and most importantly, making lists

As you can see, I would have little time in the day to add another hobby/method of procrastination. Still, every once in a while, I get this bizarre compulsion to make something crafty. And nothing will quell this urge but to actually sit down and do it. So I did. Unfortunately, when you are not a crafty person, you lack the basic crafty know-how to ensure that your craft turns out like the picture you saw online.

Now that the craftiness has passed through my system and I am left with a handful of misshapen yarn balls, I must ponder what to do with them. Eventually, they must go in the trash, but I am loath to put them there so soon after they were created. I will probably hang them up for a while, and if anyone asks, I will say they were a gift. From a child. A young child.

The other outcome of my usually disappointing craft binges is that I need reassurance that I am capable of making at least one thing that is potentially useful, and certainly not mistaken as a kindergartener’s handiwork. Obviously, would be sangria.

Sangria Blanca
adapted from: Eating Well

2 peaches, halved, pits removed, and cubed
5-10 strawberries, halved
1/3 cup sugar
1 750-ml bottle crisp white wine, such as Sauvignon Blanc or Pinot Grigio
1/3 cup brandy
2 tablespoons Triple Sec, or other orange-flavored liqueur
3/4 cup sparkling water, or club soda
Ice cubes
Lime slices, for garnish
Small mint sprigs, for garnish

1. Stir fruit, brandy, Triple Sec, and sugar together in a large pitcher. Cover and chill for 15 to 30 minutes or up to 24 hours minutes to draw out the juices.

2. Just before serving, stir wine and sparkling water (or club soda) into the pitcher. Add ice cubes to 6 glasses. Fill the glasses with the sangria, spooning some of the fruit into each glass. Garnish each drink with a slice of lime (or starfruit) and a sprig of mint.

Would-be Facebook statuses while watching Hoarders

2011-07-30T16:45:00.000-07:00

"Ah, finally a night off to wash dishes, fold laundry, andwatch Hoarders. Perfect combo."

"Watching people throw away heaps of moldy food onHoarders. Gonna go clean out the fridge. Right. Now."

"Second time during this episode that I’ve almost cried."

"Looks like I should have gone into Clinical Psychology if Iever want to be on a reality show."

"They should make a reality show about people who areaddicted to watching Hoarders."

"Second time during this episode that I’ve actually cried."

"You know it’s bad when even the smug, unflappableprofessional organizer has to run outside to puke because of the smell."

"Fourth episode of Hoarders tonight. C walks in the door with a big bag shoppingbag of stuff. I’m gonna freak out! WHATARE YOU DOING!? WE DON’T NEED MORESTUFF!"

But he was actually bringing home this amazing new Ninja blender set, given to us by a friend who owns a kitchen supply store and can’tresell products which have been used as demos. This caused a great deal of internal conflict, because Hoarders inspiresme to never, ever acquire stuff ever again, and yet… I have a particular weakness for blenders,especially really nice blenders. Cassured me that if it wasn’t anything special we could get rid of it. Two months later and we have gorged ourselveson smoothies, Guiness milkshakes, and blended oatmeal. (Okay, I’m the only one who eats the blendedoatmeal. It’s got a great fluffy texture, so don’tjudge.)

This recipe was inspired by my father, who is always disappointedby blended mocha drinks that have too much sugar and not enough chocolate flavor. Thus, with the power of a Ninja blender in myhands and a chocolate syrup recipe from Bon Appétit, I decided to create my ownperfect blended café mocha. It wasdelicious. Sorry, Dad, that we didn’tget the Ninja until after you visited, but rest assured that despite any Hoarders-inspired kitchen purges, it will not be put into the Goodwill box before you visitagain, and I will make this for you then.

Blended Cafe Mocha

cocoa syrup from: Bon Appetit

Cocoa syrup:
2/3 cup sugar
1/2 cup natural unsweetened cocoa powder (spooned into cup to measure, then leveled)
2/3 cup boiling water
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

For cocoa syrup:
Whisk sugar, cocoa powder, and pinch of salt in small saucepan. Pour 2/3 cup boiling water into heat-resistant measuring cup. Whisk just enough boiling water from cup into cocoa mixture in saucepan to form smooth paste (about 3 tablespoons), then whisk in remaining water. Bring to simmer over low heat, stirring constantly. Simmer syrup 1 1/2 minutes, stirring often. Remove from heat; stir in vanilla. Cool to room temperature. Can be made 3 weeks ahead. Cover; chill.

For blended cafe mocha:

1 cup strong coffee, room temperature or preferably chilled [using hot coffee will melt the ice and give you a tepid beverage]
1/3 cup milk
2-3 tablespoons cocoa syrup
4-5 ice cubes

Blend all ingredients together. Top with whipped cream and another drizzle of syrup, if desired. If your blender isn't very good at crushing ice, you can pre-crush the ice in a plastic bag with a hammer, then add it to the blender with the rest of the ingredients. Also, feel free to adjust the ingredient amounts to your liking, but rest assured that this cocoa syrup is like 100 times better than anything you'll find at your local corporate coffee shop.

I'm Baaack!

2011-07-26T21:11:00.000-07:00

You know that very first day of summer "break" when you're all like, I'm gonna have the bestest summer everrr! I'm gonna get up at 5 AM every day, run 10 miles, get to school by 8, make every day extremely productive and get a ton of research done, and spend my evenings trying new recipes and relaxing in the pool with a glass of wine. I'm gonna read at least 15 books, as well as have time to keep up on my top 57 favorite blogs. I'll obviously have time to go lift weights as well as start up a yoga and/or pilates routine. Plus without homework, I'll have all that extra time for girl dates, happy hour with friends, and weekend trips away with my husband!

Then, of course, you realize that it's July 26, and you're one day away from not blogging for almost an entire month, you've cooked like two actual meals in the last four weeks, your longest run this summer has only been 9 miles, and you're only a third of the way through The Grapes of Wrath, which was sadly the first book on your list of 15.

But then again, it has been one of the best summers everrr, even though you do end up saying that every year.

Isn't she just lovely?

I've spent a week among the ponderosa pines of Idaho, celebrating the wedding of my best roommate/teammate/friend ever, as well as a week in the sequoias of California, volunteering as a camp counselor for a bunch of adorable and annoying sixth-graders. I finally went to Sedona, Flagstaff, and Jerome. I've gone on beautiful scenic hikes and runs in the mountains. I've hosted friends and family who came to visit or were just passing through. I've thrown dinner parties, been to concerts, watched fireworks, and celebrated everyday happiness by going out with some of my favorite people. (I also did some research.)

But even among all of the traveling and fun activities that summer entails, there is nothing like a quiet evening at home and a meal prepared in one's own kitchen. This is the first real meal that C and I have shared at home in over a month. Literally. No exaggeration. It may not have been haute cuisine, or enjoyed in a gorgeous picnic location, but it was sooo good.

Green Shawarma Salmon
from: Bon Appetit

1 cup chopped fresh cilantro
7 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 6-ounce boneless salmon fillets

Purée the first 8 ingredients in a blender until smooth. Season marinade to taste with salt and pepper. DO AHEAD Can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and chill.

Place salmon fillets on a platter. Spoon marinade over fish and turn to coat. Cover; chill at least 1 hour and up to 3 hours.

Build a medium-hot fire in a charcoal grill, or heat a gas grill to high. Grill fish in a fish basket, if desired, until just cooked through, about 4 minutes per side.

[Ingrid note: I poured the extra marinade into a sauce pan and brought it to a boil, then used it as a sauce for the cooked fish. I also added a little bit of the cooked marinade to a puree of grilled cauliflower and garlic, but that's a story for another day.]

Just Kidding! But Really...

2011-06-27T09:00:00.000-07:00

Last week I called my mom and eagerly asked if she had read my latest blog post.

Umm, yeah.

Well, did you think it was funny?

Umm... yeah.

Oh no, was it offensive?

Well, I know you were joking, but maybe people who don't know you wouldn't know that you were joking.

Now I assume that most people read this blog because I post the links on my Facebook, and since I keep a carefully-curated collection of Facebook friends, I assume that they all know me at least enough to understand that I am a very sarcastic person, I love my family, I do not judge people with tattoos, and I also appreciate a good parody.

But maybe you don't know me or are confused by my subtle tone. Has anyone else seen WhiteWhine? You know, the site where people submit overheard complaints about the small "problems" facing privleged Americans? So no, the sound of the housekeeper washing the dishes does not bother me.

And I will admit that there are things over which I can become jealous, but please let me assure you that weddings are most certainly not among them. In fact, 1.5 years later, I am still feeling relieved that my attendance at all future weddings will be as a guest, and not as someone responsible for the planning.

To further assure you of the ridiculous nature of my story, the last time I really was hunched over a toilet was when I strangely got sick in the movie theater during the King's Speech. And to prove to you that I do know how to use this word, it was literally during the king's speech. I missed the entire 2-minute climatic scene, re-entering the movie just as he had ended his speech.

I sense that after all of this sticky and deceptive sarcasm, we need something healthful and cleansing to detox the body.

Pasta with Spinach and Green Peas
vegetables from: Food and Wine

10 ounces spinach, stemmed
1/2 cup shelled fava beans or thawed frozen lima beans
1/4 pound green beans
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
2 tablespoons chopped mint
1 tablespoon chopped thyme
Salt and freshly ground pepper

8 oz dry pasta, prepared according to directions on package

In a saucepan of boiling salted water, cook the spinach for 1 minute. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the spinach to a colander. Add the fava beans to the boiling water and cook until bright green, 1 minute. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the fava beans to a plate. Add the green beans to the boiling water and cook until tender, 4 minutes. Drain and finely chop the green beans. Peel the tough outer skins from the fava beans. Squeeze the excess water from the spinach, then coarsely chop it.

In a large skillet, melt the butter in the olive oil. Add the onion and cook over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 10 minutes. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 3 minutes. Stir in the spinach, fava beans, green beans and peas and cook, stirring, until heated through, about 2 minutes. Stir in the mint and thyme and season with salt and pepper.

Mix with pasta, adding chopped tomatoes if desired.

Twenty Days

2011-06-21T10:30:00.000-07:00

It has now (inadvertently) been twenty days since I last posted, which is now (unfortunately) my new record for longest time without posting. I could regale you with all of the awesome things that have been keeping me busy and away from my blog; however, my life isn't actually cool enough to make you jealous or interested. So instead, I will excuse myself by listing my latest activities, framed in the most pessimistic perspective possible.

1. My parents came to visit. What a drag. They were all like, Let's take a tour of campus at noon so Ingrid can get heat exhaustion on the first day of our visit! Let's go out to eat somewhere nice so that Ingrid can feel grossly underdressed and poor! Let's give lots of Sangria to Ingrid so she starts saying inappropriate (but hilarious!) things during our nice meal! Let's go on a hiking trip to Sedona where Ingrid will get sunburned and covered in red dirt that will ruin her favorite socks and she will pick out of her toenails for days! Let's spend all of our time catching up on each other's lives, preventing Ingrid from just sitting at your computer and browsing regretsy, which is what she'd rather do!*

2. I went to SunSplash water park. Not only did I probably get herpes from walking through the little pools of warm, dirty water that collect in the corners of the cement walkways, but I also saw enough body art to make me want to go back in time to Victorian England. There is no way I will ever be covering my torso with portraits of my entire extended family.

But rest assured that if I did, I'd get this entire scene on my lower back, but kind of at a slant, with maybe some tribal symbols and Hebrew words as a border.

3. I went mini golfing, where I was humiliated by the tauntings of friends and strangers alike. Will no one recognize that I was born with a mind/hand condition that does not allow me to hit the ball in the direction or speed I desire? But there is no pity among the hardened veterans of Golfland. Clutching my embarrassingly high score card and stubby golf pencil, I cried myself to sleep that night.

4. And have you ever tried to light a charcoal grill? The char lines and smoky flavor are so not worth it.

5. My brother got engaged and I was very happy for him until the next day when he became famous. Then I just sat alone in the bathroom all day, ripping apart and flushing down the toilet the magazine pictures I had collected for my own wedding inspiration nearly two years ago. Anemone bouquets, striped cakes, candle chandeliers, and silver thrifted napkin rings all fluttered down to their watery demise. Jed, I was really holding out for you to convert to Catholicism and join an order of monkshood so that I would be assured of having the ONLY and BEST engagement story/wedding in our family, but it looks like you and your adorable and witty fiancee have chosen to literally, LITERALLY flush my dreams down the toilet.**

6. I have been slaving away in the kitchen. C is all like, Woman, your job is in the kitchen! Your education is not important! I want meat, and I want it right now! And you know how much I hate cooking. So for hours on end, I was bent over a hot stove, stirring, sauteing, and frying until my hand was covered in grease burns. Then we sat down to a feast of bacon donuts, turducken, and sriracha-drenched crab rangoon, all of which C ate in a few bites, leaving me with naught but a few paltry slices of sauteed zucchini with feta. Poor me.

Blistered Zucchini and Feta

3 zucchini, sliced into one-inch thick coins
1/2 sweet or red onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
2-4 ounces feta cheese (with so few ingredients here, you should really try to find a good quality, creamy feta)
extra virgin olive oil
sea salt
fresh black pepper

Heat a few glugs of oil in a large saute pan over medium heat. When you can feel the heat rising from the pan, add the onions, sprinkle them with salt, and fry, stirring occasionally, for about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and stir for another minute. Then push the onions and garlic to the outside of the pan, leaving a large circle in the middle. Add more oil if needed, and wait for it to heat up.

Then carefully place the zucchini coins in the middle of the pan. You probably won't be able to fit them all in, but that's okay. Sprinkle them with salt and pepper. Let them fry gently until golden and blistered, then flip them to their other sides. When both sides are golden and blistered, remove the zucchini to a serving dish. Keeping the onions on the outside of the pan, continue frying the zucchini in batches until done. Combine all of the zucchini and onions and mix gently with crumbled feta. Season with salt and pepper.

*I know that my dear parents will realize this is a gross exaggeration of the (practically non-existent) "bad things" that happened on their lovely visit here. They will also know how much I miss them, and how I cannot wait to see them again. However, the rest of you will just have to read very carefully to interpret my tone and decide if I'm joking or not.

**I can't decide which is more absurd: being stricken with jealousy over my famed brother and sister-in-law-to-be, or using the word "literally" incorrectly. I feel like both of these happen on reality TV enough to be equally plausible.

I Ate A Brownie Once

2011-06-01T19:59:00.000-07:00

I want to be president someday, so I have not smoked marijuana. I ate a brownie once. At a party in college. It was kind of indescribable really. I felt like I was floating. It turns out that there wasn't any marijuana in it, it was just an insanely good brownie. --Leslie Knope, Parks and Recreation, "The Stakeout"

If you make one dessert in the next month, please for the love of Amy Poehler and chocolate, make these brownies. If they last more than two days, you are a better person than I.

Cocoa Brownies with Browned Butter and Walnuts

from: Bon Appetit

Nonstick vegetable oil spray
10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 1/4 cups sugar
3/4 cup natural unsweetened cocoa powder (spooned into cup to measure, then leveled)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs, chilled
1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon unbleached all purpose flour
1 cup walnut pieces [Skip them if you must, but otherwise I wouldn't try to tamper with this recipe.]

Position rack in bottom third of oven; preheat to 325°F. Line 8 x 8 x 2-inch metal baking pan with foil, pressing foil firmly against pan sides and leaving 2-inch overhang. Coat foil with nonstick spray. Melt butter in medium saucepan over medium heat. Continue cooking until butter stops foaming and browned bits form at bottom of pan, stirring often, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat; immediately add sugar, cocoa, 2 teaspoons water, vanilla, and 1⁄4 teaspoon (generous) salt. Stir to blend. Let cool 5 minutes (mixture will still be hot). Add eggs to hot mixture 1 at a time, beating vigorously to blend after each addition. When mixture looks thick and shiny, add flour and stir until blended. Beat vigorously 60 strokes. Stir in nuts. Transfer batter to prepared pan.

Bake brownies until toothpick inserted into center comes out almost clean (with a few moist crumbs attached), about 25 minutes. Cool in pan on rack. Using foil overhang, lift brownies from pan. Cut into 4 strips. Cut each strip crosswise into 4 brownies. DO AHEAD: Can be made 2 days ahead. Store airtight at room temperature.

Never Have I Ever...

2011-05-26T21:40:00.000-07:00

A couple weekends ago, I went kayaking for the first time and it was great. But can you believe I've never been kayaking before? I know, I couldn't either! There were little kids there who were practically pros. It's like how I've never seen Titanic, or broken a bone, or been to a live country concert, or read Catcher in the Rye, or owned a cat, or driven a pickup truck, or dyed my hair black. Unfortunately, now I've revealed to you all my best "Never Have I Ever*" lines. The difference being that I've always wanted to go kayaking, whereas I aspire to not doing anything on that other list. Except maybe reading Catcher in the Rye. That one's kind of embarrassing. In fact, it was inspired by that episode of Pregnant in Heels. Ohmygosh. Even more embarrassing. Never have I ever had good taste in TV.

I also would drive a pickup if I was given the opportunity. But you will never get me to watch Titanic. It's like a thing I have now that I'm the only 20-something American female who hasn't seen it. Anyway, even though I kind of like that game, it's also challenging because you don't necessarily want to broadcast to everyone all of the cool amazing things that you haven't done, right? Like, there's always that person who says, "Never have I ever... eaten sushi!!!" And then there's awkward silence when that person realizes that everyone else in the room has eaten sushi, duh. Or like, you've never paid your own car insurance? Not cool.

I've also noticed that in the food world, you don't ever want to draw attention to quintessential foodie things that you're experiencing for the first time. Like ramps. Or Banh Mi.** Because as soon as you admit all of the things that you haven't tried/made from scratch, you instantly begin to lose foodie cred points. In fact, I was just reading a feature in Bon Appetit that advocated for trying mezcal, the "smoky cousin of tequila" and ended by saying "before you know it, you'll be sipping mezcal while looking down on your tequila-swilling friends." Uggh, seriously? I'd take tequila-swilling friends any day over some mezcal-sipping prick who put me on a guilt trip for buying non-organic grapes and pre-made lavash.

Now that I've inoculated myself against your foodie judgment, let me admit: I only recently began cooking with fennel. And just like my first five minutes in a kayak, I realized that I had waited much too long for this introduction. Not because it's another requisite for home cook legitimacy but because fresh fennel (sometimes called anise) is so day-um good.

Italian Sausage with Fennel, Peppers, and Onions
from: Gourmet

4 Italian frying peppers (Cubanelle) cut into 2-inch pieces [I used yellow and red bell peppers.]
1 large fennel bulb, bulb quartered, then cut into 2-inch-wide pieces and 1/4 cup fronds coarsely chopped (discard stalks)
1 large onion, quartered and cut into 2-inch pieces
1 1/2 pound hot or sweet Italian sausage links, halved crosswise
1/4 cup olive oil

Preheat broiler.

Toss together all ingredients except fennel fronds with 1/2 teaspoon salt in a large shallow baking pan. Broil 4 inches from heat until sausage is browned and vegetables begin to soften, about 10 minutes. Turn over and stir, then broil until sausage is just cooked through and vegetables are softened, 8 to 10 minutes more. Serve sprinkled with fennel fronds.

*The non-TMI version.
**Okay, full disclosure, I've never eaten ramps or Banh Mi before either.

Treasured Finds From The Vermont Country Store

2011-05-24T14:04:00.000-07:00

When I was younger I used to pour over every single catalog that passed through our mailbox. It must have had a strange effect on me; even though I am in a house stocked with fascinating reading material, such as the latest issues of Bon Apetit and Conde Nast Traveler, not to mention the boxes of Gourmet dating back to the 1950s, plus seven shelves of books within eyesight alone, and the internet, I still was excited to see in the mail one of my childhood favorites: The Vermont Country Store catalog.

I'd like to think that we got the catalog because our address had been sold from some other catalog's mailing list, if only to reassure myself that neither of my young parents had never actually purchased any items from the overwhelmingly geriatric inventory.

Sure, there were always the typical patriotic tablecloths, natural insect repellent, etc., but I always was most fascinated by:

a) The weird-ass foodstuffs that people find "nostalgic," including Double Salt Licorice from The Netherlands. C talked me into trying some one time, and I was able to keep the candy in my mouth for about 10 seconds after which I spit it up in the sink, black-ish drool trailing afterwards. It took about two handfuls of chocolate chips to get the taste mostly gone, although I swear the salty-death flavor lingered for at least another 24 hours. I only tell you these disturbing details so that you will be warned to never ever try this stuff--even on a dare. And so I wonder who with their tastebuds still intact would ever eat this?

b) The bizarre personal care items that may have been brilliant inventions 70 years ago, but should have been made obsolete by now; example: underarm shields. It's like a maxi pad for your axillary region! Just the thought of putting any sort of "pad" in my armpit makes me shudder in horror. Have these people never heard of Certain-Dri?

c) The sexual wellness products. Umm, I was definitely shocked at how much things have changed because I do not remember any of these populating the catalogs of my youth. Or maybe I just didn't know what they were at the time. No, I'm pretty sure I would have remembered. Don't get me wrong: I am not grossed out by aging sexuality. Rather the wholesome, grandpa-like photo of Lyman Orton, prop., front and center, watching me browse the sexual wellness page, is simply unnerving. If I cannot picture this man as an employee at Victoria's Secret, I do not think he should be the face of the vibrator department.

Upon further browsing, may I also suggest these sheet straps so you can be sure your bed linens stay firmly in place all night long, if you know what I mean...

I just realized I cannot appetize you with a recipe after all of this. Please come back tomorrow.

What To Do If You Are Marooned In A House With An Empty Refrigerator

2011-05-19T20:09:00.000-07:00

Late last night, C and I moved into the house which we willbe sitting for the summer. (Note toburglars who may wish to rob our unoccupied house: not only will we be headingback fairly often to check the mail and water the tomatoes, but also you willfind little of value other than a well-curated used giftbag collection.) I woke up Tuesday morning in clean, Egyptian cottonsheets in a bed much more comfortable than mine in a room that has not (yet)been festooned with clothing. Ahh yes,summer break! In a big house! With a pool! For once, C was nearly out the door while I was yet in my glasses, checkingmy email and deciding on my plans for the day that stretched out luxuriously infront of me.

I’ll make us a nice supper! I call after C as he heads to the car. As I walk back to the kitchen, I think to myself, Yes, I should check to make sure I’ve got all of the ingred… oh wait, Iam stuck in a house with no car, no bike, an expired bus pass, no money for busfare, and a refrigerator with nothing but five apples, whole wheat sandwichthins, peanutbutter, and plain yogurt. Of course, I very easily could and have been known to make a day’s worthof meals from this Spartan fare, but it certainly doesn’t lend itself well to agourmet meal enjoyed on the pool deck in the shade of the palm trees.

And when I say no money for bus fare, I mean I had 67 centsin my backpack and nothing but frozen yogurt punch cards in my wallet. I tried to look around the house for anylikely coin-stashing places. Our apartment is filled with coins in every little corner. We like to refer to the “change fairy” whobenevolently bestows coinage upon our carpets and couch cushions, but we both know that it’s reallythe sock gremlin who steals like five socks per week and leaves a dime pereach. Anyway, I realize that thesepeople must not have such a good relationship with the change fairy or sockgremlin and I find not more than 35 cents in a little dish by the sink. Uggh!

Finally, after ransacking my duffle bag, I come upon my black-sequined going-out-past-6-pm clutch purse, which is way more glittery andfashionable than anything else I own, which is why I treasure it and always packit along with all of my other “essentials” such as dri-fit running socks and thebraided leather belt that I bought at Goodwill for a dollar but can otherwisebe found at LL Bean for $40.

And, lo and behold, the black clutch is a black hole of lostthings! Well, at least the extra money Ineeded plus some lipgloss and eyedrops I was missing.

Thus I embarked on my adventure, which involved one bustrip, 2.5 miles of walking, a stop at the bike shop to get a new inner tube, 4 miles of biking, andan embarrassing stop at Trader Joe’s where the perky cashier chirped at me, So, are youhiking, biking, or walking? Apparentlymy running shoe-cargo short-backpack-sweaty hair look was not unnoticed in thesea of neatly-coiffed dress and heels women stopping by to pick up somebaguettes and pre-made pesto on their way home from work. IN THEIR CARS WITH AIR CONDITIONING! DOES ANYONE BUT ME CARE ABOUT THEENVIRONMENT?

True confession: I would have driven a car if I had one, Iwas just jealous.

But I got my bike, got my ingredients, and made a delicious supper of Scallops with Warm Tomato-Basil Dressing and this:

Grilled Eggplant Salad with Walnuts
from: Food and Wine

Two 1-pound eggplants, sliced lengthwise 1/2 inch thick

1 large jalapeño
Vegetable oil, for brushing
Salt
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
3 tablespoons white wine vinegar
1 garlic clove, minced
5 medium tomatoes, cut into 1/2-inch dice
1 small red onion, thinly sliced into rings
2 tablespoons chopped walnuts [I subbed with a few pecans.]
Grilled flatbread, for serving

Light a grill. Brush the eggplant slices and the jalapeño all over with oil and season with salt. Grill the eggplant over moderate heat until nicely charred and tender, about 4 minutes per side. [Ingrid note: you could also broil or use a grill pan if you want.] Transfer the eggplant to a work surface and let cool. Grill the jalapeño, turning, until charred and almost tender, about 4 minutes. Peel and seed the jalapeño, then finely chop it. Cut the eggplant into 1/2-inch dice.

In a large bowl, combine the cilantro, vinegar and garlic. Add the eggplant, jalapeño, tomatoes and onion, season with salt and toss. Garnish with the walnuts and serve with grilled flatbread.
MAKE AHEAD The salad can stand at room temperature for up to 1 hour.

Spring 2011 Favorites

2011-05-13T16:45:00.000-07:00

Bossy Pants by Tina Fey. I hate to say that I had a “favorite” birthday present, because thatmight imply that I have a “favorite” person in my life,* but this truly was thegift that brought me the most joy. Asin, C had to ask me to leave the room because my loud laughter was interruptinghis own attempt to read. Tina Fey is myone and only celebrity love. In onechapter, entitled, Dear Internet, she responds to unfavorable internetpostings. To someone who calls her anugly, pear-shaped, bitchy, overrated troll, she replies, I hate for ourcorrespondence to be confrontational, but you have offended me deeply. To say I’m an overrated troll, when you havenever even seen me guard a bridge, is patently unfair. I’ll leave it for others to say if I’m thebest, but I am certainly one of the most dedicated trolls guarding bridgestoday. I always ask three questions, atleast two of which are riddles. Brilliant. I love you, Tina Fey.

Peanut Butter & Co. This will be a short-lived luxury,seeing that a jar of this stuff costs 3 times the amount I normally pay forstore-brand natural peanut butter. Inthe mean time, while it’s on sale, we’ve bought no less than five jars. I wish I could tell you my favorite flavor,but I’ve not tried them all yet. Still,I can assure you that the “Crunch Time” is the best basic crunchy peanut butteryou can get; in fact, C, who is not a huge fan of natural peanut butter, hasnow become my competitor in peanut butter usage.

The Hairpin. I think I’ve posted like five articles from The Hairpin on Facebook this week. Not only do they have witty original content, like What Your American Girl Doll Says About the Rest of Your Life, plenty of Royal Wedding nonsense, they also cull (and give snide remarks about) the best web content: Bristol Palin’s chin-job, and all sorts of other important things. Plus one of their contributors is Jane Feltes, who also produces This American Life, lending just one more dimension of awesomeness to the site.

Bigelow French Vanilla Tea. I’ve decided to make the switch from a daily coffee to daily tea. I know that means I’ve basically given alltrue coffee lovers permission to call me a weak-sauce pansy, but pleaseunderstand that although I will always love coffee more than tea, my bodysimply cannot handle so much caffeine every day. Since I’ve made the switch, I’ve been lessjittery, and I don’t get those terrible headaches if I occasionally skip mymorning pick-me-up. I make the tea atnight with about a teaspoon of turbinado sugar, stick it in the fridge, and inthe morning, I add almond milk and ice. It tastes like caramel corn and although I miss the taste of coffee, Idon’t miss the shaky hands.

First Friday Art Walk in Downtown Phoenix. Art galleries, coffee shops, and all sorts of hipster hangouts are open from 6-10 pm on the first Friday of every month. There is a free shuttle you can take to the different neighborhoods downtown, but everything's close enough to walk. The art wasn't particularly impressive to the person who *cough* majored in art, but we still browsed a sweet record store and enjoyed veggie samosas and portabello tacos from some of the local street food vendors. It's also a prime people-watching venue.

*I really do have a favorite person. Fortunately, he's married to me.

Why I Could Never Be a Pioneer

2011-05-02T20:16:00.000-07:00

After last week's toe-incident, I've finally admitted to myself that I never could have been a good pioneer/explorer/wilderness survivor. This is a very disappointing end to many childhood fantasies created by Little House on the Prairie/Island of the Blue Dolphins/Hatchet/Julie of the Wolves/The Swiss Family Robinson, and more recently, The Hunger Games. I like to tell myself that if I could run a marathon, I could at least survive on a tropical island for a few years, building a treehouse and making cute dresses from banana leaves. I like to think I could forage in the jungle and eat weird things and make friends with animals who would protect me and certainly I would be unfazed by small toe injuries. They would find me years later, and even though I would probably have island-survival-PTSD, everyone would marvel at my amazing toughness and self-preservation skills.

However, after ten minutes of sobbing and swearing loud enough to incite our neighbors to give us dirty looks the next morning, I decided that I would rather take twenty math tests than have my toenail partially ripped off again. Well, twenty is a bit excessive. Make it fifteen. But seriously, it took me $17 in first aid supplies, two shots of Bourbon, a trashy Netflix movie, and a super patient husband to remove like a centimeter of toenail.

So I am a twenty-first century girl who has absolutely no hand callouses and has only pumped up her own bike tires once. Shameful, I know. But I do lots of other difficult admirable things. Like... blogging... or... math tests... or... running? I used to think I had lots of good "hardcore" running stories, mostly involving my digestive tract and/or the weather. Now I realize the only thing that enables me do to anything even somewhat difficult is the fact that I get to come home afterwards and veg on my couch, eating roasted almonds and browsing The Kitchn.* Yeah, life is not tough at all, which is why I've finally let go of my survival fantasies and decided to embrace my life of posh comfort.

Here, I give you a most delicious pizza. You can be all pioneer and make all of the ingredients yourself from scratch, or you can be thankful that you are not trying to prepare this thing on the Oregon trail and just go buy everything from Trader Joe's. Be glad you can have fancy pizza tonight and not undercooked bison meat or hardtack or turtle meat with plantains.*

Garlic-Rosemary White Pizza

1/4 cup olive oil
2 medium sweet onions, thinly sliced
1/2 cup roasted garlic hummus (try my lemony hummus and put in some roasted garlic)
1 cup shredded cheese (I used leftover Parmesan and Gouda and it was fantastic)
a few sprigs of rosemary, chopped
1/2 lemon
1 batch of thin crust pizza dough (my favorite recipe here, or feel free to use pitas or tortillas or lazy-ass store-bought dough)

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. If using a pizza stone, place it in the oven to preheat. (Pizza stones need about an hour to preheat.) Heat the oil over medium high heat in a large saute pan. When the oil shimmers, add the onions, and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 20 minutes, or until the onions are caramelized and turning golden brown. Remove from heat. Form the dough into a ball (or two or more) and roll out until thin. Gently place the dough on the bottom of a greased baking sheet, or on the top, if not using the pizza stone. Gently spoon the hummus onto the dough, leaving a small margin around the edges. Top the hummus with the onions and cheese and chopped rosemary.

Now either place the pizza into the oven on the baking sheet, or very gently slide them off the sheet onto the pizza stone. The best way to do this is to take the stone out of the oven and put it on your counter on a trivet or something. Then place the baking sheet slightly above the stone and ever so gently use a spatula to slide the pizza onto the stone, all the while keeping it level enough so that the toppings don't fall. Bake for about 10 minutes, or until the crust and cheese is golden. If not using lemony hummus, squeeze the lemon juice over the top of the cooked pizza.

*Or looking at royal wedding pictures... so guilty.
**Although, to be fair, I would totally try that.

Drinks For When Your Toe Gets Caught In A Door

2011-04-28T22:20:00.000-07:00

So I totally had planned this great post about using pre-made garlic hummus on pizza, but then, life had other plans. As in, I was joking around with my husband, trying to trick him that our trash can got stolen and I was like, "Hey come look at this outside!" and then the door got closed on my toenail, and y'know, it was half-ripped off, and I was crying like a little girl. The pain? Not that bad. The fact that I scheduled myself a pedicure on Saturday? And that I won't be able to wear running shoes for the next few days? Nearly unbearable. So I cried a lot.

So while I sat on the couch, whimpering and trying not to look at my bloodied and bruised toe, C did some internet research and decided that the offending part of the nail HAD TO BE CUT OFF! So then he went to the store to buy gauze, nail scissors, tape, antiseptic stuff, and MARASCHINO CHERRIES! So that we could drink delicious Old Fashioneds while he cut off my toenail.

Apologies for the terrible and shaky photography. I was incapacitated. And tipsy.

Don't worry, I drank mine before the toenail cutting, and he drank his afterwards. If ever there was a sign of true love, it is cutting off someone's toenail. And meanwhile letting that someone watch a completely stupid girly movie on Netflix. I won't even tell you what it was. Too embarrassing.

So here is a delicious Old Fashioned recipe, guaranteed to make toenail removal 10x less painful.

Painless Old Fashioned
by C

2 oz bourbon
1/2 clementine, peeled, or 1 orange slice
1 maraschino cherry
1 teaspoon sugar
2 dashes bitters

Muddle the orange and cherry in the bottom of a glass. Top with a few ice cubes. Pour the bourbon, bitters, and sugar into the glass and stir.

This Does Not Bode Well

2011-04-25T21:25:00.000-07:00

Today I saw this frail, elderly woman with an explosion of frizzy white hair trying to wrestle onto the bus a rickety cart brimming with grocery bags. (Don't worry, the bus driver was helping her.) At first I was wondering why she would attempt such a monumental grocery haul with nothing but a rusting cart and a bus pass.

When she finally got settled, she said, in a quavering voice, "I always go to the store in search of one of two things, and then end up with all of this..." Yep, that definitely happens to me pretty much every time I go grocery shopping. Note to future Ingrid: if you do not break this bad habit now, you will be very inconvenienced later on in life.

Sorry for the non-recipe post. More to come tomorrow!

Isn't It Ironic?

2011-04-17T21:45:00.000-07:00

Even though I have good college memories of listening to Alanis Morissette with my roommate is our dorm room, I have to agree with many others... a free ride when you've already paid isn't ironic so much as just terrible. But maybe irony means something different in Canada? No really, that wasn't a mean Canada joke. I really like Canada.

But back to those situations that Alanis Morissette labels "ironic." Like having so many good stories to blog about except that all the people in the stories read your blog. Seriously, this happens like every day lately and I'm running out of funny non-offensive material.

And I think Alanis would agree about the "irony" of waiting to eat your beautiful organic Braeburn apple all day during class until you are almost sick with hunger and then finally biting into it and realizing it's all mealy and nasty and even though you are about to faint with hunger,* you just cannot eat it--more from disappointment than from actual disgust.

Or buying some lovely underripe pears that you dutifully set aside on the counter in a brown paper bag and promptly forget about until they are mushy and wrinkly.

So now I've got a kitchen full of beautiful and expensive apples and pears that are actually nasty and mealy. How "ironic." Well, some people might write a hit song about the experience. I chose the less artistic and more practical route of making them into an apple-pear cake.

Apple Pear Snack Cake

adapted from: 101 Cookbooks

2 cups apples and/or pears, finely chopped (I cheated and stuck mine in the food processor for a bit with the juice of half a lemon)
2 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 cup sugar (I used turbinado)
1/2 teaspoon fine grain sea salt
2 eggs
1 cup plain yogurt, thinned with a few tablespoons of milk
1/4 cup butter, melted and cooled a bit
3 tablespoons large grain sugar

Preheat the oven to 400F degrees, racks in the middle. Butter and flour (or line bottom with parchment paper) one 9-inch square baking dish or tart pan, you can also bake it in a 9x13 pan but really keep a close eye on it after 20 minutes - it will be quite thin.

Combine the flour, baking powder, cinnamon, sugar and salt in a large bowl. In a separate smaller bowl, whisk together the eggs and the yogurt. Whisk in the melted butter. Pour the yogurt mixture over the flour mixture and stir until barely combined; try not to over mix. Now fold the apples into the cake batter.

Spoon the batter into the prepared pan, pushing it out toward the edges. Sprinkle with most of the large grain sugar. Bake for about 20-25 minutes or until cake is just set and a touch golden on top. I like this cake every-so-slightly under-baked, just barely, remember it will cook for a little while after you remove it from the oven.

Serves about 12.

*I may have been known to exaggerate on occasion.

Four Truths and Three Lies

2011-04-02T19:19:00.000-07:00

1. My parents had to sign when I got married.

2. I got my nose pierced on family vacation... my entire family with me in the piercing parlor.

3. Yesterday on the bus, I saw an ASU student, almost definitely a grad student, pick his nose and eat it.

4. I recently watched a few episodes of Jersey Shore and got so addicted that I had to go on Wikipedia and look up the cast member bios and I'm still following the juicy internet gossip.

5. When I was in second grade, I won the state-wide spelling bee.

6. I am so busy lately that I am literally giving you a recipe for toast and eggs.

1. Partially true: not because I was underage, but my father is a reverend and performed the marriage ceremony and thus his signature is on the certificate.

2. So true. We were staying at my Grandparents' house in North Carolina and one afternoon while everyone else was being social, I impulsively researched local piercing parlors on my Grandpa's old Gateway computer and then randomly said at lunch that I kind of wanted to pierce my nose and everyone was like, Yeah, you should do it! So we all drove in our teal Dodge Caravan to this piercing place and my favorite memory was my mom telling me, Now if we go in there, and Dad says this place isn't clean enough, just be okay with it and we'll find somewhere else.

3. True. Yes, so sadly true.

4. False. It was Teen Mom 2. But please forgive me: I've been unable to run for the past couple weeks, which forces me to use the elliptical machines at the Student Rec Center. And even with over 100 channels on the elliptical machine TVs, Teen Mom 2 was still the best thing among the slim pickings of daytime programming. I did not, however, anticipate getting so involved with the characters.

5. False. I never won any sort of spelling bee or geography bee or math bee.

6. False! This is not toast and eggs! It's toasted lemon rosemary olive oil cake with lemon pudding and lemon curd! April Fool's! [Pretend this happened yesterday, okay?]

Lemon Rosemary Olive Oil Cake
from: Patent and the Pantry

4 large eggs
3/4 cup sugar
grated zest and juice of a lemon
1/2 cup regular or extra virgin olive oil or canola oil
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp. baking power
1/4 tsp. salt
2 sprigs of rosemary, leaves stripped off and chopped
a couple more sprigs of rosemary to decorate the top (optional)

Preheat oven to 350. In large bowl, beat eggs for about a minute until frothy. Add sugar and beat for a few minutes until mixture is thick and pale. Add lemon zest, juice and olive oil and beat again.

Combine flour, baking powder, rosemary and salt in another bowl, then add to egg mixture. Stir by hand until just combined.

Pour into prepared loaf pan (sprayed or lined with parchment). Lay decorative rosemary on top. Bake for 45 minutes, until golden.

Lemon Curd

[my own recipe]

1/3 cup fresh lemon juice (from about 3 lemons)

3 eggs

3/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup unsalted butter, room temperature, cut into pieces

1-2 T lemon zest

Combine juice, eggs, and sugar in a double boiler. Cook, whisking constantly until creamy and thick (about 10 minutes.) The mixture should hold the shape of the whisk marks. Remove from heat and stir in zest and butter until butter is completely melted. Cover with plastic wrap directly on surface to prevent a skin forming. Store in the refrigerator. [Note: if you don't have a double boiler, you can make one by putting a metal bowl over a saucepan with 2 inches of boiling water.

Lemon Pudding

from: Gourmet

1 tablespoon cornstarch
1/4 cup sugar
1 cup half-and-half
2 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon unsalted butter

Whisk together cornstarch, sugar, and a pinch of salt in a 1 1/2-quart heavy saucepan, then whisk in half-and-half until smooth. Bring to a boil over moderate heat, whisking constantly, then boil, whisking constantly, 2 minutes. Remove from heat and whisk in lemon juice and butter. Cover with plastic wrap directly on surface to prevent a skin forming. Store in the refrigerator.

At first I was like, they're not burned too bad, I'll just use them anyway. Then I realized they were completely burned and I would have to make some more toasts.

To assemble the eggs and toast:

Place a few spoonfuls of pudding a a small dish or cup and place about a tablespoon of curd in the center. Slice the cake and toast it either in a toaster oven or in conventional oven, taking extreme caution to not burn them! I.e., do not leave your post at the oven to watch Stephen Colbert singing Friday on your husband's computer!

If The Seven-Year-Old You Could See You Now

2011-03-23T21:30:00.000-07:00

While sitting in a Peruvian restaurant on Saturday, as I lifted a forkful of baby octopus to my mouth, C made that interesting comment, If the seven-year-old you could see you now, I wonder what she'd say. I looked down at my plate of ceviche--raw seafood soaked in lime juice and topped with raw onions and toasted corn kernels. I had to laugh. At age seven, I was one of those kids who singularly ordered grilled cheese at every restaurant. Years later, I made a huge step and branched out to personal cheese pizzas or chicken nuggets, when available. I disliked bran flakes, eggs, popcorn, mushrooms, tomatoes, olives, peppers, squash, asparagus, cabbage, celery, cucumbers, and eggplant, to name a few, and I'm sure there are quite a few more "exotic" things, like raw fish and brussels sprouts that my parents didn't even bother to offer me when I was in my picky stage.

This was a failed attempt at ceviche. Hint: you cannot substitute tangelo juice for some of the lime juice.

Thankfully, I've grown more open-minded in the past 15 years. In fact, there are a lot of things that seven-year-old Ingrid surely would find distasteful on twenty-something-Ingrid, for example my nose ring. I was completely disturbed by piercings and tattoos, to the point that even though I desperately wanted to wear earrings, the thought of actually getting them pierced was so upsetting that I avoided asking my parents for years. And even then, I thought that anything beyond two ear piercings was completely scandalous.

I had high hopes for an Olympic future in figure skating, gymnastics, or rhythmic dance, despite the fact that the only lessons I took were for swimming. In all my years of avid Olympics-watching, I only saw the marathon once, and that was of course by the time in college I realized my fate was sealed to be an unglamorous distance runner and girls my age were already retiring from their professional gymnastics careers.

So unglamorous.

I did aspire to being a doctor, somewhere between my Kansas City Chiefs cheerleader and marine biologist phase. However, I wanted to be a real doctor. You know, the kind that helps people. I surely had no interest in becoming a statistics doctor or whatever it is that I will become once I graduate.

I also figured that among all the Disney princes, my husband would look most like Prince Eric. Obviously, he was the hottest. I certainly did not anticipate marrying someone who more resembles General Shang from Mulan.*

Anyway, here's a grown-up recipe to celebrate all of the good taste I've acquired in the last 15 years.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Cabbage and Pine Nuts
from: Food and Wine

1/2 cup pine nuts [I used sunflower seeds, which I had on hand.]
1 pound brussels sprouts, quartered
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons honey
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon pure chile powder, such as ancho
1 1/2 pounds red cabbage, very thinly sliced on a mandoline (6 cups) [I actually thought using a knife was easier.]
1/2 cup dried cranberries
4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1 ounce Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, thinly shaved

Preheat the oven to 450°. Spread the pine nuts in a pie plate and toast for about 3 minutes, until golden brown. On a large rimmed baking sheet, toss the brussels sprouts with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil and season with salt and black pepper. Roast for about 15 minutes, until the brussels sprouts are lightly caramelized and tender.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl, whisk the lemon juice with the honey, mustard, cayenne and chile powder. Slowly whisk in 1/4 cup of the olive oil and season with salt and pepper.

In a large bowl, toss the cabbage with the toasted pine nuts and cranberries. In a small skillet, heat the remaining olive oil. Add the garlic and cook over moderate heat until golden, about 1 minute. Scrape the garlic and hot oil over the cabbage. Add the brussels sprouts and toss, then add the dressing and toss again. Scatter the cheese shavings over the top and serve right away.

*Confession: I was such a little white girl, I've never even seen all of Mulan. I had to Google the General's name, which is where I found this link . I was going to put it in the main text, but upon further inspection, it's a little... uh... disturbing. Just be warned, you will never watch your favorite Disney movie the same way again.

When Life Hands You a Broken Spork, Make Lemon Bars

2011-03-17T21:40:00.000-07:00

So lately the universe has been handing me some proverbial "lemons:" first my running watch broke, and my backup one has dead batteries. I tried running just holding the important half in my hand, but going around everywhere holding half a broken running watch is even nerdier than wearing a running watch with all of your non-running outfits. Of course, the money I was saving up to finally buy a nice non-plastic watch (to wear with said non-running outfits) has now been spent on another running watch.

Also, my favorite pencil broke. I've had it since high school, no exaggeration. It's called the Paper Mate PhD Mechanical Pencil and let me tell you they do not give these things away for free.

And my spork broke not once, but twice. Or maybe it's like a starfish and will regenerate into three new sporks. That would be optimal.

But, y'know, I can't complain too much. I am on Spring Break, and have already watched three movies, taken two naps, watched 1.5 seasons of Parks and Rec, read plenty of non-school material, had a massage, gone hiking, biking, swimming, and won (the women's division of) a 5-mile trail run.

And I made some lemon bars, so not bad at all.

Whole Lemon Bars

from: David Lebovitz

Crust

1 cup (140g) flour
1/4 cup (50g) sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons (115g) melted unsalted butter
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Lemon Topping

1 lemon, organic or unsprayed
1 cup (200g) sugar
3 tablespoons (45ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
3 large eggs, room temperature
4 teaspoons corn starch
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons (45g) melted unsalted butter

Optional: powdered sugar, for serving

1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF (180ºC).

2. Overturn an 8-inch square pan on the counter and wrap the outside snugly with foil, shiny side up. Remove the foil, turn the pan over, and fit the foil into the pan, pressing to nudge the foil into the corners. The smooth it as best you can.

3. In a medium bowl, mix the flour, 1/4 cup (50g) sugar, 1/4 teaspoon salt, 8 tablespoons (115g) melted butter, and vanilla, stirring just until smooth.

4. Smooth the batter into the bottom of the pan, using your hands or a small offset spatula to get it as level as possible.

5. Bake the crust for 25 minutes, or until it’s deep-golden brown.

6. While the crust is cooking, cut the lemon in half, remove the seeds, and cut the lemon into chunks.

7. Put the chunks of lemon in a food processor or blender along with the sugar and lemon juice, and let it run until the lemon is completely broken up. Add the eggs, corn starch, 1/4 teaspoon of salt, and 3 tablespoons (45g) melted butter, and blend until almost smooth. (A few tiny bits of lemon pieces are normal and encouraged.)

8. When the crust comes out of the oven, reduce the heat of the oven to 300ºF (150ºC). Pour the lemon filling over the hot crust and bake for 25 minutes or just until the filling stops jiggling and is barely set.

9. Remove from the oven and let cool completely. Once cool, carefully lift out the bars grasping the foil. Cut the bars into squares or rectangles. Sift powdered sugar over the top just before serving, if desired.

Storage: The bars will keep in an airtight container at room temperature up to three days. You can freeze the lemon bars as well for up to one month, letting them come to room temperature before serving.

Spring Break!

2011-03-11T17:59:00.000-08:00

This weekend is Spring Break! I'm so pumped to hop on a plane tomorrow morning and fly to Palm Beach where I will paaar-taaay until sunrise every night! Just kidding. I will be here, in Tempe, doing school work and watching Arrested Development on Netflix. Actually, considering that the forecast is for 80 degrees all week, I can't complain. I've even decided to plan myself a little "staycation" because rich kids from other states go to warm climates over break to do fun things, so I figure I'm in the same position, except saving on airfare and not getting any STDs.

This Saturday, I'm doing a 5-mile trail race in the White Tank mountains, then going to hit up the local music scene at a friend's album release concert. I've also scheduled a recovery massage, a facial, and a date to go to the rock wall gym. I also plan to cook some new dishes, go hiking, get my driver's license renewed, and read by the pool. Ideally, I'll also have time for clothes shopping, yoga, cleaning the apartment, writing notes to all of my college friends, blogging every day, and attending a St. Patrick's Day party. Of course, managing to do all of this would leave me little time for school work, which is really the whole reason I'm staying here. (That, and the fact that plane tickets cost money.)

So here's to Spring Break! Even if you are spending it in Iowa at your parents' house, or on choir tour, or building houses in Kentucky or maybe you are one of those poor souls who doesn't even go to school anymore and doesn't even get a Spring Break. But at least you can take an hour to enjoy a frivolous drink and pretend to enjoy the warm Arizona sunshine with me. Cheers!

Palm Beach Cocktail

2 oz gin
1/2 oz vermouth
2 oz grapefruit juice

Add all ingredients to a cocktail shaker with ice. Shake well and strain into a chilled martini glass.

More Public Transit Observations

2011-03-01T17:52:00.000-08:00

Remember the book Harriet the Spy? It was like one of my favorite books growing up. Maybe that's why I have so few inhibitions about watching people on the bus every day. Is that weird? Is that mean? I try not to be mean, but some things are just so funny, like the factory employee with salt and pepper hair, a trim mustache, scuffed shoes, and a sad face. As he sat down across from me, I noticed he was holding his finger in a paperback novel, which he opened and began to read the second his bottom touched the seat.

Must be a good book, I thought. Of course I had to see the title and author, and I can generally do that inconspicuously if wearing large sunglasses, but I had to wait until his fingers uncovered the various parts of the cover. First I noticed the picture: a red-filtered photograph of a woman's face. Then the title: Fatal Beauty. Okay, not exactly what I would expect from trim mustache man, but I certainly am not one to judge based on literary tastes. Then I see three words in the upper-right corner of the cover: Rodeo Star, Seductress, Killer. I nearly laughed aloud. There's nothing like realizing the man sitting across from you is currently fostering his Sexy-Cowgirl-Seductress-Murderer fetish.

Then the next day, I see that a different guy sitting across from me is wearing a shirt that says Okoboji Iowa. Okoboji is located about an hour from where I grew up. It's where I met my husband, where I took French Horn lessons all through high school, and the only semi-interesting place my family took out-of-town guests. In Phoenix it is rare that I come across anyone who knows anything about Northwest Iowa, so I always relish the opportunity to meet someone who is familiar with the places where I grew up.

But then I noticed that he is wearing earphones. And he has some jail tatts. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I decided to just sit there quietly wondering, rather than asking, if this guy had really ever been to Okoboji.

Then this woman gets on the bus and she's wearing this fitted blouse and a short skirt with pom-poms on the hem, and some knee-high argyle socks. And she looked to be about 30 and has a mom haircut. Not only is her school girl outfit very disconcerting, but she's sitting with her legs not together and she's got this box from Einstein Bagels that is emitting this smell--you know, the kinda-greasy kinda-good really-nostalgic smell of to-go fast food.

So all during the drive home, all sorts of thoughts are percolating through my mind: was this guy really from Okoboji or did his brother go there and buy him this shirt? Am I a terrible person because I assume he got his tattoos in jail? What am I going to make for supper tonight?

Well, the mystery of tattoo-man was never solved, but as soon as bagel-box-lady gets off the bus, it hits me: pizza bagels. Her box full of pizza bagels had been tantalizing me with its smell and that nostalgic cafeteria staple suddenly sounded so delicious that I decided to make them for supper. Of course, I had no bagels, just pita bread, but it's pretty much the same concept: cheater pizzas. In fact, I feel a bit bad about even posting this as a recipe, but sometimes you need some inspiration for something super quick and super easy and will fulfill your nostalgic food cravings triggered by someone's take-out.

Pita Pizzas

2 pita bread rounds (not the pre-cut ones)
a batch of Five-Minute Marinara or My New Favorite Marinara (or jarred pizza sauce, or maybe even just some sliced tomatoes)
toppings, including sliced baby bella mushrooms, red bell pepper, parsley, and fennel fronds
shredded cheese (I used the Juusto baked cheese that I found on sale at Sunflower this week.)

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. If you have a pizza stone, put it in the oven to preheat. Create your pizza on an over-turned or rimless baking sheet, and when oven is preheated, gently slide the pita rounds onto the hot stone. Bake until cheese is golden brown. If you don't have a pizza stone, you can simply make the pizzas on a baking sheet, then place it in the oven.

Runner Barbie

2011-02-23T18:54:00.000-08:00

On Sunday I ran my first race in nearly a year. Nine months ago I ran my last collegiate race and my first ever marathon, which was also part of my first ever NAIA Nationals meet. It was a huge culmination of four years of training, and after that, I was ready to take a long break. Thus I was a bit anxious about how it would be to race again. Would I be slow? Would I forget how to be competitive? Even though I enjoyed my break from competition, this week I remembered how much I truly love it. Plus it didn't hurt that the race was outside of the city in the shadows of the Superstition Mountains.

I forgot to give C my camera on race day, but this picture was taken nearby a few weeks earlier.

I would hate to make fun of the other runners in my race because I am a huge supporter of people facing their fears by challenging their minds and bodies with a distance run. Running is not an elitist sport and I relish the fact that I will never be too old or slow to be a part of the running community. That being said, there is one type of person who really peeves me in a road race--Runner Barbie.

You know, she looks like a pilates model from Shape magazine--tall, tan, lean, and toned, garbed in spandex of the season's latest colors, matching iPod included. Her pony tail is so perfect you wonder if it's a wig. You know her brand and model of shoes and know that they cost nearly a month's worth of groceries. But then you notice something suspicious: the treads on them are barely worn, and her clothes seem strangely crisp.

Then the gun goes off and you see her power ahead, but you're not worried. 6.55 miles later, you turn around at the halfway point and begin to run past the 1000+ people behind you* who are still heading to the turnaround. Miles go by and you finally see her--walking. Yes, Runner Barbie, money and beauty cannot buy you speed. Not that fast girls can't be attractive and/or stylish, but there are always those girls who I see and wonder how early they had to wake up to do their make up and hair so perfectly before a 7:15 AM race.

I, on the other hand, like to appear especially terrible when I run so that the next day, I look like I've made a Cinderella transformation. Actually, it's not like I try to look terrible--I do put on makeup before a race--but a good race requires both sweat and agonizing facial expressions. A good race on a humid morning requires some frizzy hair. If you are my parents, or an avid Ingrid-fan, you can see some race photos here. But it is difficult for my vanity to even give you access to such horrendous "before" photos without a compensatory "after" photo:

This recipe is kind of like a Cinderella transformation for vegetables: take some healthy, hard-working cauliflower and dress it up with sherry-soaked raisins, fried breadcrumbs, capers, toasted almonds, and fresh herbs. The combination of sweet and savory flavors, as well as textural variety makes this recipe a real winner.**

Cauliflower with Almonds, Raisins, and Capers
from Smitten Kitchen

1 head cauliflower, trimmed of leaves
1 1/2 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons fresh soft bread crumbs
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons whole almonds
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons golden raisins [Ingrid note: I had only dark ones]
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon capers, rinsed and drained
1 teaspoon finely chopped parsley
1 teaspoon finely chopped tarragon
1 teaspoon finely sliced chives.

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cut cauliflower from top to bottom in 1-inch slices. Place a large ovenproof skillet over low heat and add one tablespoon butter. When it has melted, add bread crumbs and toss until toasted and golden brown, about 3 minutes. Transfer crumbs to a plate and wipe out pan.

2. Return pan to medium heat and add one teaspoon olive oil. Add almonds and toss until lightly browned, 2 to 3 minutes. Season lightly with salt and pepper to taste. Transfer almonds to a plate, let cool, and cut each almond into three pieces; set aside. [I roughly chopped the almonds. Life it too short to cut each one in thirds.]

3. Wipe out pan and return to medium heat. Add remaining one tablespoon olive oil and cauliflower slices. Sauté until lightly browned on both sides. Transfer pan to oven and roast until tender, about 12 minutes. (I had to brown my cauliflower in batches, not having enough surface area in my pan, but tossed everything back in to roast it.) Meanwhile, in a small saucepan over low heat, melt remaining 1/2 tablespoon butter and add raisins, vinegar and 1 tablespoon water. Simmer until raisins are plump and soft, about 5 minutes; drain and set aside. In a small bowl, combine almonds, capers, raisins, parsley, tarragon and chives. Season with salt and pepper and toss to mix.

4. Arrange roasted cauliflower on a serving platter. Spoon almond-herb mixture evenly on top and sprinkle with toasted bread crumbs. Serve immediately.

*Not trying to brag, but if you are interested in the race results, you can see them here.
**Sorry, I couldn't help myself!

Too Good To Be True

2011-02-16T18:53:00.000-08:00

My husband sneakily whipped up the dough for these raspberry swirl sweet rolls on Sunday evening while I thought he was washing dishes. Then I he hid them in the back of the refrigerator and woke up early on Valentine's Day to bake them and surprised me with breakfast in bed! I was so excited to see he used my birch wood serving tray and vintage napkins that I bought last week at a flea market. Of course, breakfast in bed wouldn't be complete without a steaming mug of Jamaican Blue Mountain French Press coffee and a rose from our garden in a bud vase. Thus the day started sharing a too-good-to-be-true breakfast in bed and only got better from there.

Okay, that's not true at all. I woke up at 5:30 on V-day to go train with the ASU running club; not only did no one else show up to run, but somehow the coach arrived and left while I was locking up my bike. He didn't see me, and I didn't see him until I looked up and he was already far down the road, headed back home. So I ran alone. Then I spent the day finishing my homework assignment for Mathematical Statistics, finding maximum likelihood estimators for Poisson distributions.

As I headed back home, I could feel the beginnings of sickness in the back of my throat. We ate a no-nonsense supper of leftover chicken soup (probably the one good thing that happened to me that day.) Then I spent the rest of the evening working on my Latent Class Analysis Monte Carlo simulation, since I was behind on schoolwork after being gone all weekend. I dropped into bed, exhausted and sick, at 10:30 and promptly faded into the sweet dreams of Nyquil. Yes, the day was about as romantic as it sounds.

In fact, I was the one who made these sweet rolls a few weeks ago for C to take to his weekly staff meeting. We didn't even eat them together, let alone share a romantic breakfast in bed. I own neither a birch wood tray nor vintage napkins, and we don't have a rose garden. The only reason that I tell you this sad story is so that you will feel sorry for me and my pathetic life and forgive me for not blogging for over 10 days. Forgiven?

Raspberry Swirl Sweet Rolls

adapted from: Food and Wine

Dough:
1 cup milk
2/3 cup sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons active dry yeast
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
4 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting

Filling:
One 10-ounce package IQF (Individually Quick Frozen) raspberries, not thawed [I used half blueberries.]
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon cornstarch

Glaze:
3/4 cup confectioners' sugar
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice

MAKE THE DOUGH: In a small saucepan, warm the milk over moderately low heat until it's 95°. Pour the warm milk into the bowl of a standing electric mixer fitted with the dough hook and stir in the sugar and yeast. Let stand until the yeast is foamy, about 5 minutes. Add the softened butter, eggs, grated lemon zest and sea salt. Add the flour and beat at medium speed until a soft dough forms, about 3 minutes. Increase the speed to medium-high and beat until the dough is soft and supple, about 10 minutes longer.

Scrape the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead it with your hands 2 or 3 times. Form the dough into a ball and transfer it to a lightly buttered bowl. Cover the dough with plastic wrap and let stand in a warm place until doubled in bulk, 1 to 2 hours.

Line the bottom of a 9-by-13-inch baking pan with parchment paper, allowing the paper to extend up the short sides. Butter the paper and sides of the pan. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and, using a rolling pin, roll it into a 10-by-24-inch rectangle.

MAKE THE FILLING: In a medium bowl, toss the frozen raspberries with the sugar and cornstarch. Spread the raspberry filling evenly over the dough. Tightly roll up the dough to form a 24-inch-long log. Working quickly, cut the log into quarters. Cut each quarter into 4 slices and arrange them in the baking pan, cut sides up. Scrape any berries and juice from the work surface into the baking pan between the rolls. Cover the rolls and let them rise in a warm place until they are puffy and have filled the baking pan, about 2 hours.
Preheat the oven to 425°. Bake the rolls for about 25 minutes, until they are golden and the berries are bubbling. Transfer the pan to a rack to cool for 30 minutes.

MEANWHILE, MAKE THE GLAZE: In a small bowl, whisk the confectioners' sugar with the butter and heavy cream until the glaze is thick and spreadable.

Invert the rolls onto the rack and peel off the parchment paper. Invert the rolls onto a platter. Dollop glaze over each roll and spread with an offset spatula. Serve warm or at room temperature.

MAKE AHEADThe recipe can be prepared through Step 4. Cover the rolls, refrigerate overnight and then return to room temperature before baking.

Why I Don't Poo Anymore

2011-02-06T18:48:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's true that I've not actually pooed since December 2010. Don't worry, this story does not involve any colostomy bags, but rather my latest experiment to not use shampoo or conditioner. There are a ton of good reasons to not shampoo your hair: one of the most popular is to avoid both massaging scary chemicals into your scalp and also rinsing them down the drain, where they will be flushed into the ocean and we all know that even mermaids do not use our leftover shampoo suds.

And while I love the sea creatures and care about environmentalism and I use reusable grocery bags and a stainless steel water bottle and I recycle yogurt cups, I've not yet made the leap to living chemical-free. However, sometimes I get really inspired by strange challenges, like not washing my hair. And if it means I kill a few less krill, I think that's a great bonus.

Thankfully, there are ways to clean one's hair without shampoo. I remember when we first got married, my mother-in-law gave us one of those little booklets that had like 1000 ways to use pantry products to clean. C is very inspired by things like this: he shines his shoes with banana peels and always insists on buying the industrial size box of baking soda, which he uses like a universal antidote for household grime, including stains on the bottom of our sauce pans and the atrocious smell of my dirty running clothes. But even he was skeptical when I began using said baking soda to wash my hair.

I just have a little 1/2 cup container and I shake a few tablespoons of baking soda into it, mix in a bit of water to make a paste, and then massage it into my scalp and rinse. You don't need to wash your the ends of your hair, because they get just enough baking soda when you rinse. I read about using apple cider conditioner instead of conditioner, but while I got used to the scent, my husband was actually grossed out and I figured that if he noticed it and found it unpleasant, I should probably stop going out with hair that smelled like dirty socks. I've read about making a rinse with chamomile tea and cider vinegar that won't smell, but that sounds a bit complicated for frequent use.

I have also ceased using any styling product in my hair, except on special occasions. The verdict? I do miss the nice smell of freshly shampooed hair, but after a few weeks of adjustment, my hair is pretty much like it used to be. In fact, it's a bit more curly now; I think not putting product in it makes it lighter and thus more able to curl. I also don't need to wash it every day, which saves more time for watching 30 Rock, I mean, doing homework.

Would you ever consider ditching the shampoo and conditioner? I won't judge you if you say no. But I think we can all agree on the common ground of baking soda: universal household cleaner and essential ingredient of tasty baked goods. Plus the scent of ginger-laced biscotti will fill your apartment or house and anyone you live with forget that your hair doesn't smell like shampoo.

Triple Ginger Biscotti

2 cups flour
2/3 cup sugar
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
3/4t baking soda

3 eggs
1 Tablespoon molasses
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 Tablespoon grated fresh ginger

1/4 cup crystallized ginger, finely chopped

Preheat oven to 350'. Mix together dry ingredients. Whisk together eggs, molasses, vanilla, and grated ginger. Add liquid ingredients to dry ingredients and mix. Halfway through mixing, add the crystallized ginger. Continue to mix until the dough forms a cohesive ball, adding more flour if too sticky. Mine was actually very dry and I had to mix it with my hands to get it to stick together.

Form the dough into two logs, place on a greased baking sheet, and bake for 25-30 minutes. Remove and allow to cool for 10 minutes. Then, using a long, serrated bread knife, cut at an oblique angle into 1/2 inch slices. Place the slices cut-side down on two baking sheets (it's okay if one or neither is greased) and bake for 10 more minutes. Remove from oven, flip the biscotti slices, and bake for 5-10 minutes more. The biscotti will still be moist (shudder) and soft when you remove them from the oven the last time, but they will dry and crisp as they cool.

Everyone's Favorite Classmates

2011-01-27T21:40:00.000-08:00

This semester has already given me ample opportunity to observe my classmates during my 6.5 hours of back-to-back class every Tuesday and Thursday. (While I also attend to the lecture, of course.) Thus I offer a few typical students you also might encounter in your own classes.

The Scrupulous Note Taker. Post-it flags, a set of colored pens, and five different highlighters, whose use strictly adheres to a color-coding system more difficult to understand than the notes themselves.

The Surfer. Facebook, ESPN.com, actuarial internship applications... if you sit behind them, you can see pretty much anything on their laptop screens, except, of course, lecture notes.

The Heavy Drinker. The female version has some sort of Mary Poppins magic that allows her to pull out of her bag a bottle of water, a bottle of Pepsi, and a travel mug of coffee, all to be consumed within an hour of class. The male version just brings a gallon jug of water to remind everyone that he's hardcore training for... something.

The Bestie. He sits behind me and finishes the professor's sentences under his breath. This level of presumptuousness can only lead me to assume he's best friends with the professor.

The Vibrator. Everyone hears your phone vibrating and everyone knows it's you, which makes it even more embarrassing that you pretend it's not going off.

The Anarchist. In a way, I admire those rogue students who chose a new seat every day of class. Just as long as I don't get displaced, which would obviously be grounds for complaining on Facebook.

The Player. Fiddling with your pencil: okay. Twirling your ponytail: no problem. Playing with your facial hair, piercings, or picking you nose and/or scabs: disgusting.

The Studious Multitasker. She's so responsible and always gets her homework done--in the class before it's due.

The Artist. She's too bored to take notes, but is somehow fascinated by writing her own name 50 times in bubble letters.

The Sicko. Sitting next to a sick person who's coughing and sneezing is pretty bad, but the worst are the ones who have nasal congestion, but refuse to blow their noses and make me listen to their snot percolating every time they sniff.

The Space Invader. You would think that people would try to keep their appendages within their own desk-chair area. You would be wrong.

The Cruncher. Baby carrots, celery sticks, or Doritos are the cruncher's choice snacks. You'll understand that if I'm intolerant of unavoidable sickness noises, I'm definitely not tolerant of an obviously inconsiderate food choices. However, I do understand that some people have class straight from 8:20 AM to 2:45 PM and that it is a physical necessity to eat lunch during that time. And even though I know I've already provided you with an overabundance of roasted vegetable recipes, this one is quick, easy, and perfect for quietly eating during class.

I wish I could have taken a more authentic picture* of the carrots during class, but that would have been even more distracting than all the pet peeves I just complained about.

Balsamic Roasted Carrots

1 pound carrots, washed and cut into 1-inch slices (you can peel them if you want, but I don't when I'm in a rush)
a generous splash of balsamic vinegar
a glug of olive oil
a squeeze of honey
a generous pinch of sea salt
a few grinds of fresh black pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Toss all ingredients in a shallow baking dish. Roast for about an hour, stirring every 15 minutes.

*Although my friend Yu just told me that when she was an undergrad feeling too tired to take notes, she would just come to class and take a picture of the notes written on the board. Brilliant.

Public Transit PDA

2011-01-20T20:04:00.000-08:00

You witness a lot of memorable scenes when you ride the bus everyday. Today it was a most overt and passionate public display of affection. And even though I knew I should avert my eyes for their privacy, I found my gaze magnetically drawn to them by a grotesque fascination.

You wonder how this bizarre story relates to a recipe... don't worry, I'm getting there.

We were on the bus for quite a while; sometimes they would simply look out the window together, but not more than a minute would go by before they began cuddling, which inevitably led to other things, including one awkward (for me) face-lick. I'm telling you, by this point, there was no way I could stop watching.

He never once looked at me, but she caught my eye several times as he stroked her brown hair and fondled her ear. When she shivered with cold, he would pull her close and nuzzle her neck. They would gaze into each others' eyes like toddlers watching Blue's Clues, with the same delighted, mesmerized expressions on their faces. Did I mention that throughout the entire time, she was sitting on him? I kept wondering if that was legal and if the driver would say anything.

He was rotund, middle-aged, and gruff-looking, she was younger and beautiful, tiny even, and probably high-maintenance by the look of her hair. She looked out of place, curled up in his over sized dingy coat among the 8 AM bus crowd. I could much more easily picture her languorously relaxing on the smooth leather seats of the Mercedes Benz that passed us.

Was I the only witness to this bizarre event? Was anyone else uncomfortable with the social boundaries being crossed here? Thankfully not, because as they exited the bus, the driver called out:

And make sure she's in a kennel next time!

Yes, lover-boy had stashed a Chihuahua in his jacket. You know, put her in and zipped it up until only her head peeked out.* Part of the strangeness was the dog breed--he looked more like the type to have a trusty old hunting dog with matted hair, as opposed to a sleek little purse-dog. But the weirdest thing was that he spent most of the bus ride coddling this dog with an affection that was--it was weird, honestly. On the other hand, I guess it was kind of sweet, and it's a good reminder to not judge a person by his dingy jacket.

So here's a recipe to celebrate unexpected combinations: tough, stringy, bitter celery and sweet, succulent pomegranate seeds marry to create a delicious salad. Poor celery: forever wilting, forgotten at the bottom of your crisper drawer. But all it needs is a bit of fresh beauty in the form of a ripe pomegranate to bring out its inner goodness.

Couscous, Celery, and Pomegranate Salad
adapted from: 101 Cookbooks

2/3 cup (100g) Israeli couscous (original recipe calls for bulgur)
1 1/3 cup water
1 pound (400g) celery (a small head), cut in thin slices on a slight bias
seeds of 1/2 large pomegranate
3/4 cup (75g) walnuts, roughly chopped
1 small bunch of flat-leaf parsley
1 scant tablespoon fresh mint, finely chopped

Pomegranate Dressing:
juice of 1/2 large pomegranate
1/2 garlic clove, crushed to a paste with 1/2 teaspoon of salt
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

For the dressing, whisk all the ingredients together, season to taste with salt and pepper and set aside.

Pour the water in a sauce pan, and bring to a boil. Add the couscous to the water, stir, cover, and remove from the heat for 5-10 minutes. Fluff with a fork.

Put all the ingredients in a bowl, pour over the dressing and check the seasoning. Serve immediately. Make sure the walnuts are dressed just before serving, as sometimes they can impart a bitter flavour and unpleasant colour to the dressing if left to sit.

Other helpful notes from the original recipe:

Also, to get the seeds out of a pomegranate cut the fruit into wedges. Place the wedges in a large bowl of water and break the wedges apart to remove the seeds. The seeds will sink to the bottom and the bitter pith and skin will float to the top making it easy to remove. To juice the seeds I simply place small handfuls into a handheld citrus juicer and let the juice run into a separate bowl.

*I didn't see until the end that under the jacket, she was actually sitting in this bag-thing hung around his neck. I'm actually glad that I saw this, because I had been wondering the entire time, how this dog was somehow suspended so high on the man's chest. Still, the idea of a dog-necklace was a bit disturbing.

How to Embarrass Yourself at Whole Foods

2011-01-15T15:09:00.000-08:00

What's the most appalling thing that you can do in Whole Foods?

Asking the guy at the artisan cheese counter where they have Velveeta?

Loudly mispronouncing the word quinoa in the bulk foods aisle?

Letting your Taco Bell gift card slip out of your wallet in front of the cashier?

I wouldn't know about the first two, but I can assure that the latter is indeed quite embarrassing. I mean, what kind of a hypocrite patronizes both Taco Bell and Whole Foods? I'm sure I flushed bright red as I fumbled to shove it back into my wallet. I'm sure the checker went home and told all of his friends about some poser girl who pranced up to the checkout with a plateful of lentil salad and roasted cauliflower, but can you believe she had a Taco Bell gift card?

But here's the truth: why pawn your grandmother's wedding ring to pay for something off the Whole Foods salad bar when you can make your own lentil salad for the price of a Taco Bell combo meal? Added bonus: you can satisfy your Tex-Mex craving in a safe and healthy way without the deleterious bodily effects of desperate fast food choices.

Southwest Lentil Salad

1 cup red lentils
4 cups water
splash of olive oil
1 red onion, diced fine
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 jalapeño, seeds and veins removed and diced fine
1 teaspoon cumin,* plus more to taste
salt and pepper*
1 cup diced tomatoes (I used canned, but if using fresh, seed and core the tomatoes first)

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
zest and juice of 1 lime
1/2 teaspoon chili powder*
dash of cayenne or paprika*

handful of cilantro, roughly chopped

Place the lentils in a large pot with the water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 20-25 minutes or until lentils are tender. Drain and set aside.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a sauce pan over medium-high heat. When oil is shimmering, add the onions and cook, stirring until they are nearly translucent. Add the garlic, jalapeño, and cumin and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Cook for two more minutes, stirring, or until the jalapeños are soft. Remove from heat.

Mix together the oil, vinegar, Dijon, lime juice and zest, chili powder, and cayenne to make the dressing. Combine the lentils, onion mixture, tomatoes, and dressing in a large bowl. Add the cilantro and stir. Season to taste with more salt, pepper, cumin, or chili powder.

*I didn't actually use any measurements with the spices--the amounts here are probably underestimated to be safe, but feel free to add more. I ended up adding quite a bit more cumin to find the flavor I was looking for.

Favorite Kitchen Games: Source of the Stench

2011-01-11T20:35:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite kitchen games is Source of the Stench: you know, you walk through your shoe box-sized kitchen and get a whiff of something odious. There are the usual suspects--the trash, the sink disposal, or the dishwasher, which has been intermittently not draining, leaving rotting food bits in a pool of fetid water at the bottom. Once the source of the stench has been located of course you immediately resolve the problem--take out the trash, run the disposal with some coffee grounds, or put in a maintenance request to fix the brand new dishwasher that the apartment manager was so excited to tell you about on the day you moved in.

But sometimes you have a round of Source the Stench that is a bit more challenging. Perhaps it's in the pantry: an onion that looks perfectly fresh, but upon palpitation, oozes black juice. Or maybe you forgot that you made roasted broccoli earlier in the day and the scent wafts up when you open the oven again.

And sometimes, although this thankfully is a rare occurrence, you detect somewhere in your kitchen the scent, however faint, of a cross country meet porta-pottie on a hot day in late August. This olfactory memory has been burned into your brain along with unspeakably vivid images which make you weak at the knees. You might need to step outside, but don't leave for too long, because a smell like that indicates that something is probably incubating and should be dealt with before it overtakes your kitchen.

I scoured the kitchen--not the disposal, not the trash, the dishwasher's been fixed, the onions and potatoes are still fresh. What could be making that gag-inducing smell?

And then I saw the big pot and baking pan on the right side of the sink. The right side of the sink is for unwashed dishes. True confession here--sometimes I leave unwashed dishes on my counter. I'll not make excuses for my lack of housekeeping, but I want you to know that at least in this case, all of the other dishes were washed--I just put off washing that big pot and the baking pan. You know, cleaning that ungainly big pot is like wrestling a baby alligator in my sink.

The baking pan was sitting atop the pot, and the second I tilted it back, I was accosted by a demonic miasma of scent. How does it smell like a rotting possum inside this pot? Seriously, the pot had only been sitting there for two days at most, last used to soak/cook at batch of pinto beans. But apparently I had forgotten to empty the cooking water after I removed the beans and then placed the pot on the counter to be washed. And so the water had sat, covered in shadow, and festered in our warm kitchen.

It took all of my powers of self-control to not puke as I tilted it toward the sink and I watched the brown viscous liquid topped by a thick, gray, bubbly mass slide down the drain.

Don't worry, I sanitized the pot with boiling water and lots of soap.

This week's lesson? Do not procrastinate dishwashing.

I had intended to post the recipe which used the beans--a variation on the duck confit tacos from Food and Wine, but I realized now I've probably ruined your appetite for pintos. I understand if you just need a stiff drink instead.

Real mixologists use fresh pineapple juice, I'm sure.

Pineapple-Rum Cocktail

1 oz spiced rum
1 oz vermouth
2 oz pineapple juice (leftover from canned pineapple in the carrot cake!)
juice from half a lemon

Mix all ingredients into a martini shaker with ice. Shake, then strain into a martini glass.

New Favorites for 2011

2011-01-07T17:24:00.000-08:00

My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He At Me. Believe me, the book is as creepy and disturbing and wonderful as its title--a collection of classic fairy tales rewritten by some of today's most prolific fiction writers, including Joyce Carol Oates, Neil Gaiman, and John Updike. I was totally obsessed with fairy tales when I was younger--like owned and read the entire collection of Grimm's Fairy Tales, and this is the perfect reincarnation of my beloved stories into modern literature. Plus I love the novelty of a collection of bite-sized reads.

Duck Fat French Fries. I do have to attribute this new found love to my husband who insisted that A) we keep the fat from our Christmas duck, because "Duck fat is treasured above all other fats" and B) to buy some regular potatoes because "All you ever buy is sweet potatoes." Yes, there was a time when just the thought of making these would have given my broccoli-crunching self a stomach ache. But I am glad that times have changed, because these were the best French Fries I've ever eaten. Seriously.

Good Earth Super Green Tea. I bought this tea before our Iowa trip with the intention of staying energized and somewhat healthy despite the holiday decadence and travel germs. Also, I knew we were staying at my in-laws' who don't drink coffee, and I needed an alternative, travel-sized caffeine source. I found the matcha, sencha, and orange flavors are rich and robust and that a big mug of this kept me full and energized through many a busy morning, even if it did mean a few extra trips to the little tea drinkers' room. I also did not get sick, despite being around a lot of sick people. My mom always says this is because of my hearty peasant stock, but I like to think it was from the tea--perhaps to justify the price.

Community. When I finished with the first four seasons of 30 Rock on Netflix, I was prepared to not find another good comedy for a long time. But then we were dog sitting at our friends' house and they just happened to have the first season of Community sitting right next to their TV. My favorite part of the show is its pop culture awareness, self-conscious humor, and humorous satire of community college life.

Shown with a spoon for size reference.

Living in citrus country. These (ginormous) ponderosa lemons are from my professors' front yard. I mean, I miss living in the land of freshly harvested sweet corn, but we've been gifted all manner of oranges, grapefruits, and lemons, so I won't complain too much.

This flavorful, robust marinara. C made us some eggplant Parmesan pasties a month ago, and used this marinara recipe. The pasties were pretty good, except that I freaked when I found out that C had used 3/4 cup of Crisco for the dough to make three pasties, and I had eaten one of them, which meant that I ate 1/4 cup of Crisco, which is about the same as eating half a stick of butter. But the marinara was the redemption of the night, especially since there was enough left over to dress my lunch veggies for a week, and I promptly made another batch after the first was finished. Even though I still love the brightness of my old favorite marinara, this one is getting a special place in my easy-sauce-repertoire.

Spaghetti squash and feta cheese serving suggestion

My New Favorite Marinara
adapted from allrecipes

6 tablespoons olive oil
1/3 cup finely diced onion

1 clove garlic, minced

2 (14.5 ounce) cans tomatoes [I used my favorite: Muir Glen fire-roasted diced]
1 (6 ounce) can tomato paste
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/2 cup white wine [or sherry]

4 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

Heat oil over medium high heat in a large cast iron pan. When the oil is shimmering, add the onion and sautee until translucent. Add the garlic and sautee for another minute. Add the remaining ingredients, except the parsley, and stir. Reduce the heat and let the sauce simmer for 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally. If you've used whole canned tomatoes, use a spoon to gently break them apart. You can also puree the tomatoes for a smoother sauce.

A Year Ago Today We Ate Carrot Cake

2011-01-02T19:18:00.000-08:00

I had great ambitions for this post. I was going to write the most articulate, hilarious, tear-jerking tribute to my wonderful husband and thank him for this whirlwind first year of marriage and express my anticipation of the many years yet to come. But every time that I started, my brain stalled after the first few (terrible) sentences.

At first I was going to just recount scenes from our wedding: getting up early to go run a 200 meter sprint workout on the indoor track with my bridesmaids and personal attendants, the bank sign that read -21 degrees Fahrenheit as we drove to the hair salon, the photographer telling us that she didn't want to risk her camera breaking from the cold (so we would have to do all photos inside the church,) my mom searching frantically for an hour in my bedroom to find my hair accessory.

Just like Ingrid Bergman.

There was spontaneous posing with a vintage fur cape and a cigarette, then walking down the aisle smiling uncontrollably and seeing so many beloved faces in the crowd, hearing my dad pronounce us man and wife, realizing after 20 minutes of my mom searching under my train that the seamstress forgot to sew on one of the bustling ties.

There was swing dancing (after too much wine) with my brother at the reception, crying (the only time that day) when Angela gave her toast, and driving off to our wintry honeymoon, only to realize ten miles down the road that I had forgotten my backpack full of essentials at the reception, and I'm so so so sorry, but I think we need to turn around...

Notice the hair accessory. Thanks, mom.

But as much as I love to remember our wedding and how it was handcrafted by the people we love, this past year wasn't about the wedding at all. (Maybe that's why we didn't get our thank yous sent until July?) No, the year 2010 was about being married and all of the terrible and wonderful things that marriage entails. I've heard that you don't learn how selfish you are until you get married. Yes, it is true, I learned a lot about my selfishness this past year, which is why I am continually amazed by my husband's gracious love. And how he leaves hangers everywhere in the apartment.

Yes, marriage brought some unpleasant surprises (trying to follow two careers, anyone?) but that is only part of it being a wonderful grand adventure. I could give you a litany of all the Awww-inducing things C does for me (like coming back from an early morning run to find a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice waiting on the table next to my oatmeal,) but those things are like happiness frosting, and I can tell you that beyond the frosting, I live on the vegetable and whole grain variety of happiness: a husband who loves me and forgives me and does ridiculous things to make me laugh and doesn't freak out when I'm being neurotic and listens to me complain, then challenges my prideful assertions and willingly eats my kitchen experiments, and then gives me his honest* opinion of how they taste. That, ladies and gentlemen, is happiness.

On Thursday we went out for a six course tasting meal at Quiessence ** to celebrate our anniversary. After we had finished our goat cheesecake and bread pudding and glass of ice wine, I asked our waiter to take our picture because it was our anniversary. Then he got all nervous and our pictures turned out blurry. However, as we were leaving the middle aged couple at the next table wished us a happy anniversary and asked how many years.

I was on that sweet sleepy warm edge of too much good food and wine and I don't know why I was acting like a shy two-year-old, but instead of saying anything, I just held up one finger.*** Anyway, they were like, Awww, that's wonderful! I don't suppose you still have some of your cake?

And I was like, Actually, we do, but it's still in Iowa! Patty, I will not claim to have made a carrot cake as good as yours was, but I'll dare to say that a slice of this one I just pulled out of the oven and frosted probably tastes better at this moment than the one that's still sitting in my parents' freezer in Iowa.

Happy Anniversary, Darling! Here are some happiness vegetables with a bit of frosting.

Because our real wedding carrot cake is frozen in another time zone.

Anniversary Carrot Cake
from: Epicurious

1/3 cup dried shredded unsweetened coconut
About 1 pound carrots, peeled and cut into 2-inch Lengths (3 cups)
1 cup chopped pineapple
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat pastry flour
1 1/2 cups cane sugar
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 1/4 teaspoons ground cinnamon
Pinch of freshly grated organic nutmeg
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup dark-brown sugar
3/4 cup canola oil
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
3 eggs

Optional additions (add one or a combination of all three)
3/4 cup chopped toasted walnuts
1/2 cup golden raisins, plumped in warm water for 20 minutes and drained
1/2 tablespoon minced fresh ginger

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Butter and flour two 8-inch round cake pans and line the bottoms with parchment paper (to ensure that the cake will not stick), or place liners in 2 muffin pans for 24 cupcakes. Set aside.

Place the dried coconut in a cup of warm water to soften and set it aside for 15 minutes.

Place the carrots in a food processor and pulse on and off for 1 minute. Then add the pineapple and pulse until the carrots are cut into very small pieces and the pineapple is pureed, 1 to 2 minutes.

In a large bowl, sift together the dry ingredients. Add the brown sugar and use a whisk to break up any lumps.

Drain the coconut and place it in a medium bowl. Add the oil, vanilla extract, eggs, and carrot-pineapple mixture, and whisk to combine.

Add the wet ingredients into the dry, mixing with a rubber spatula to incorporate but not overmix. When the batter is almost mixed, stir in the additions, if using. Pour the batter into the prepared pans.

Bake for 55 minutes, or until the tops are a very golden brown and a tester inserted in the center comes out clean. (It may look as if the cake is too well done, but it takes a while to bake because it's so dense.) For cupcakes, the baking time is 35 to 40 minutes.

Let the cakes cool in the pans for 10 minutes. Then invert them onto a wire rack and let them cool completely.

Fill and frost the cake with the Cream Cheese-Lemon Zest Frosting (for added oomph, add 1/2 tablespoon minced fresh ginger to the frosting).

Cream Cheese-Lemon Zest Frosting
from: Epicurious

[Ingrid note: I only made a third of the frosting recipe]
Three 8-ounce packages cream cheese, softened
2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter, softened
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 3/4 cups powdered sugar

In a standing mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, whip the cream cheese and butter on medium-high speed until combined and airy, about 2 minutes. Mix in the lemon zest, lemon juice, and vanilla.

Sift the powdered sugar onto a piece of parchment or wax paper. With the mixer on low speed, slowly pour the sifted powdered sugar into the frosting (use both hands to bend the paper so the sugar pours slowly into the bowl).

Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula. If the frosting seems too soft to spread, allow it to chill for 15 minutes in the refrigerator.

*Okay, only when I steel mys self confidence and ask for it.
**One more brag and then I'm done, I promise: he picked it out and saved up his money and surprised me.
**Not that finger.

Post-Christmas Grinching

2010-12-29T16:38:00.000-08:00

Now that Christmas is officially over and the holiday glow is fading, I fell justified in being a grinch and sharing a few seasonal things that I've never really liked:

The song Silver Bells, especially that line about the stop lights blinking red and green. Because, you know, the inventors of stop lights designed them to be appropriately festive during the holiday season.

Pretty much any Christmas music soundtrack piped over the speakers at any store beginning on Black Friday. Out of the hundreds of Christmas songs why do they pick only the most obnoxious? All I Want For Christmas is My Two Front Teeth? I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus? Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer? Please. Plus I don't think that speech impediments, marital infidelity, and grandparent deaths should be treated in such a flippant manner.

The song Christmas Shoes. One of the most annoying songs ever--even though sometimes I inadvertently tear up when I hear it, which only makes me despise it all the more. I am so heartless.

Multi-colored-light-festooned houses where each strand of light blinks with a different pattern. Seizure, anyone?

Front lawn inflatables. I especially like when they begin to deflate. Nothing like a flaccid Santa in front of your picture window to perk up you holiday spirits.

Sugar Cookies.* They don't taste like anything and are usually served crumbly and stale, covered in a metric ton of bright green frosting, courtesy of your cute niece and the sweet cookie-baking tradition you have together. I know, I know that makes me like the only person in America that doesn't like sugar cookies, but let me be the Ghost of Christmas Past and bring you back to my childhood home where I am first learning how to make pepparkakor--a thin, crispy, spicy, buttery, melt-in-your mouth cookie that my dad has made each Christmas for as long as I can remember.

My dad explains his "paternal grandmother, Judith Carlson, immigrated from Sweden as a 19 year old girl, and was an accomplished cook. She rarely used recipes. [My dad's mom,] Dorothy, got the recipes by putting measuring cups and spoons under Judith's hands as she put the ingredients in the mixing bowl. That's how we got the "old family recipe" for this traditional Christmas cookie from Sweden."

My sugar cookie revulsion makes sense when I realize that I grew up with pepparkakor instead. Pepparkakor is the antithesis of the sugar cookie: who wants a bland, oversized, mouth-parching cookie covered in artificially colored (also bland) frosting when you can have a flavorful, crispy, not-too-sweet cookie that's perfectly thin? And the delicate thinness of this cookie is part of its charm. If you want just a taste, grab one on your way out the door; if you want a proper dessert, grab a nice handful. You won't miss your sugar cookies.

Pepparkakor

recipe from my father (with some explanatory adaptations from me)

0.5 lb. butter (two sticks)
1.5 cups sugar
2 Tbl cream [Ingrid note: I used 2% milk fine, but only because I was too lazy to go to the store. My dad said he's also used half and half.]
1 egg
1 Tbl corn syrup
3.5 cups flour
2 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. cinnamon
3 tsp. cloves
3 tsp. ginger

Beat butter, cream, and sugar together until smooth. Add corn syrup and egg to butter/sugar; blend thoroughly. Sift dry ingredients together; add to butter/sugar.

Knead the dough by hand until it is uniformly consistent. The warmth of you hands helps to blend the ingredients; put butter on your hands before kneading the dough. [Ingrid note: after this, your hands will be silky soft and you will want to eat them for the rest of the day.] Place the dough covered in a bowl in the refrigerator to chill for a few hours and become more firm.

Tear off 16 sheets of wax paper to fit a cookie sheet. Divide the dough into 8 equal balls. If it is too firm to work with, let it warm up until it's easier to work with. With the first ball, place it between two sheets of wax paper and gently roll out the dough into an oblong form. It is important that the dough sheet is of even thickness. To test this, hold the dough (still between wax paper sheets) up to the light. You will be able to see spots of varying thickness and roll them out until the dough is completely even. Repeat with remaining dough balls.

Place all dough sheets on a cookie sheet in the freezer overnight or until completely frozen. [Eight hours? Four hours? I have no idea.] Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Butter your cookie sheets (vegetable oil gets gummy after a few batches, says my dad.)

Take one dough sheet out from the freezer. Gently peel off the top wax paper sheet and use a cookie cutter to cut your desired shapes into the dough. From my memories of making this with my dad, we were always able to gently use a butter knife to separate the cookie shapes from the bottom paper and lift them onto the cookie sheet. I guess our house must have been super cold, because I found this nearly impossible in our perpetually warm apartment; the dough was soft and fell apart only a few minutes after being out of the freezer. (Read: almost always wearing shorts and have not yet turned on the heat.) So instead I cut the shapes into each sheet of dough, then covered the sheet with the top layer of wax paper again and returned it to the freezer.

When I finished cookie-cutting the last sheet, the first one was frozen again, so I took it out and very quickly peeled off both sheets of waxed paper and gently lifted each cookie onto the sheet. Bake for 6-12 minutes. Be careful; pepparkakor burns easily, making the cookies somewhat bitter.

The small and thinner the cookies, the less time it takes to bake them--hence the variable time. Keeping the same size cookies on the cookie sheet helps; otherwise smaller ones will burn before larger ones are done.

If some cookies are thinner than others, put the thinner cookies near the center of the cookie sheet and the thicker cookies near the edge. This helps them to finish baking at the same time. My dad and I have also found that the first batch in the oven burns in a matter of minutes. The following sheets of cookies usually bake at a lower temp than you've set your oven because you're opening and closing the oven so often--and thus aren't as prone to burning. I found that it helps if, before you put in the first sheet of cookies, you open the oven and let a bit of the heat escape.

Extra scraps from the cookie-cutting can be collected and rolled out between waxed paper and cut again. Or you can just bake the scrap shapes: we always called those "reindeer poops."

*Except for yours, Patty. You are the only one who has ever made a sugar cookie that I like, let alone adore.

Christmas Dinner on the Patio

2010-12-26T20:09:00.000-08:00

This year's Christmas was imperfect in so many ways. To start with there was not even a chance to hope for a snowy white holiday. Our tree was brown and dying two days after we brought it home, and my grandiose plans to make a popcorn garland for the tree and festive bunting from scrap paper and send out handmade cards to all my friends never came to fruition. The presents sent to us by our siblings were not under the tree, and are probably being held hostage by USPS somewhere. Similarly, our packages sent to our parents have also not yet arrived in Iowa.

There was no college Vespers concert to attend, no winter formal dance, no greenery and lights decorating the ASU campus during finals week after Thanksgiving.

C checked the mail on the day that the two presents I ordered for him arrived. One of them was accidentally addressed to both of us, so he accidentally opened it, ruining the one really creative present I had bought for him.

The Christmas duck we accidentally roasted for an extra hour making it the only dry and greasy meat I've ever eaten.

But thank God that Christmas isn't about having the perfect Christmas. Instead of warm hugs from my parents and brother, I got to hear their voices and see their cute pixelated faces on Skype for 45 minutes. Instead of a traditional Swedish meal by candlelight, we went out for cheap happy hour sushi on Christmas Eve (only because we had to be in Mesa all day for two Christmas Eve services.)

Instead of colored lights glowing beneath fresh snow on the boughs of evergreens, I got to see illuminated palm trees.

Instead of sledding down the hills at Miller Park, I hiked with a friend up to Tom Thumb and with another friend up to the top of A Mountain. And I took a picture of the big Menorah.

Instead of doing all those normal "Christmas" things (which I do miss), we spent most of the day in the kitchen, collaborating on a big meal that consisted of crispy roasted duck, apple and currant stuffing, green beans with (from scratch) cream of mushroom soup, and kale chips.

And instead of nearly dying while driving between our parents' houses during a terrible Christmas blizzard (like last year) we opened a bottle of Merlot and took our meal outside to the patio where we basked in the warm breeze. It was perfect to celebrate our first Christmas together in our own homemade, low-key way.

If a holiday is just vehicle for yearly rehearsing traditions, it does seem lonely and pointless to try to celebrate without those traditions. And perhaps because this holiday season was devoid of those many Christmas "things" it was even easier to reflect on the reason why we celebrate. But I am still looking forward to a white Christmas again sometime.

Apple and Currant Stuffing

adapted from: The Joy of Cooking

3 cups bread cubes

3/4 cups chopped dried fruit (I used prunes, dates, cherries, and currants)

1/2 cup walnuts and/or pecans, chopped

1 apple, peeled, cored, and diced

1 teaspoon sea salt

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon paprika

1/4 cup olive oil

1/2 cup stock, broth, or milk

Toss all ingredients together except the stock. Two ways to cook:

A. Stuff it in your bird and cook the bird.

B. If not used to stuff a bird, the stuffing can be baked in a buttered dish at 350 degrees for 30-45 minutes. Spread the stuffing about 2-3 inches thick and pour the stock over top of it. If you wish for a crunchy-topped stuffing, leave the dish uncovered (my preference.) If you like a softer stuffing, cover the dish with foil.

Christmas in the Desert

2010-12-22T16:12:00.000-08:00

Talking about the weather--it never really gets old for me. More than anything, I am fascinated about the way climate affects lifestyle. One time a few years ago, C and I bought tickets to see the Sioux City Symphony's Christmas Spectacular. I bought a beautiful new black dress and spent hours online picking out the perfect black strappy heels. So even when the night of the concert was a snowstorm, I still insisted on wearing my chosen outfit. The result? Terrible. Even when C dropped me off at the front of the restaurant before the concert, I still had to step in several inches of snow before I reached the doorway, which efficiently froze my toes for the rest of the evening. I know there are fashionistas out there who wear whatever they please and screw the weather, but I've found that attitude akin to sheer madness in the face of a Midwestern blizzard.

2007--Why am I wearing sandals? Why do I not have a sweater on?

Ever since then, I've been the paragon of practicality when it comes to winter weather wear.

2009--Don't worry, we only wore our pants during the frigid walk from our apartment to the Winter Formal. It was still miserably cold.

Thus I've noticed the many changes in my own behavior and habits that are due to the difference in clime. For example, during the blazing summer heat, I got in the habit of a snake-like shedding of clothes the moment I entered my apartment, which itself seemed only marginally cooler than the midday sun. Just this weekend, I began my Saturday appropriately dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. But when I walked a half a mile home from the bus stop in the bright sunlight at 2 in the afternoon, I found myself much overdressed. Of course my natural reaction was to mindlessly take off all of my clothes as soon as I was safe at home.

Three years later, I'm still baring arms and legs in December, but at least I've got socks on.

This, of course, was quite inconvenient when the UPS man knocked on my door seconds later. There's nothing like the thought of being caught* in the nearly-nude to make you scamper wildly about your apartment in a panic. Where are my clothes! Thankfully, my chronic disorganization worked in my favor; I simply had to pick up and throw on the two most accessible clothing items, which were laying within arm's reach.

Yes, I was a bit embarrassed when I answered the door in yoga pants and my husband's oversized ratty college t-shirt, but at least I got my package!**

I know that for most of you, it's pretty cold right now and thus it's the perfect time for winter comfort food. However, there are days when I've been out in the sun and I come home and the thought of a steaming Shepard's Pie makes me nauseous. But I want to indulge in festive food, as well. So here's a light salad that has cheery red flecks from chopped cranberries.

Cranberry Chicken Salad

1/2 bag of fresh or frozen cranberries (about 1.5 cups)
1 apple, cored and diced
1 cup plain yogurt (or mayo if you must)
zest and juice of 1 orange
2 cooked chicken breasts, diced (I cheated by using leftovers. Turkey would also be good.)
salt and pepper
1 stalk celery, diced (I didn't have any, but I think it would be good.)

Blend the cranberries in a food processor until finely chopped. Mix all ingredients in a bowl and season to taste with salt and pepper. Put in the refrigerator for several hours to get the best tangy flavor. Serve on your favorite bread with green leaf lettuce.

*Okay, I knew he wouldn't come in unless I opened the door, but I suspected it was a package** from my parents, and in the spirit of Christmas, I wanted it NOW!

**I despise that word.

The Benefits of Old Age

2010-12-14T15:17:00.000-08:00

We all know I'm a bit neurotic when it comes to potlucks. But after a highly successful roasted eggplant lasagna for C's staff Christmas party last Monday, my potluck self-efficacy has been sky high. Thus I thought it would be appropriate to bring roasted broccoli and lemony hummus to another Christmas party this Friday. True, my husband cautioned me that the age 70+ crowd wouldn't be so into the hummus but I argued that everyone else would bring cheese and crackers and cookies and even people who aren't obsessed with healthy eating are happy for a vegetable reprieve from the usual holiday fare.

Perhaps the party guests with failing eyesight hesitated to take the yellow-green goop? Among the buffet spread, I'm sure a large gingerbread man is much more recognizable by failing eyes than a bowl hummus, especially hummus that's been made with a good handful of parsley and thus a bit disguised from its normal sandy hue. Then again, who am I to judge considering that my last library book was check out of the "large print" section.*

After supper, we played that ubiquitous gift exchange game with lottery numbers and a chance to steal someone else's gift. With 38 people, the party coordinator thankfully ruled that each gift could only be stolen once. That was going along just fine until the cherub blanket appeared: it was large and fleecy, depicting two (Caucasian) cherubs inappropriately touching each others' chubby bodies against a background of fanciful clouds. As the gift recipient held aloft the great work of art for all to see, you could practically hear people drawing in their breaths with covetousness.

That's when the party coordinator's gentle rule reminders fell upon deaf** ears. Were C and I the only people who did not try to steal that blanket? The other often-stolen item was a bottle of wine. I would have been tempted to steal it myself, considering the alternative gifts: collectible miniature Christmas village houses, a car visor CD organizer, and a lighted string of big plastic snowflakes that flashed various primary colors and blared a cringe-inducing rendition of Jingle Bells. Still, the price limit for gifts was $5 and I figured that in terms of quality, I'd be better off with the $5 jar of honey. C thankfully snagged the only other cool present: two jars of jam. Of course, the honey and jam weren't nearly as popular as the horrendous blanket or cheap wine. But from my perspective, I think we went home with the best haul.

Someone told me that it was weird that I like spending time with these people. Perhaps. Then again, being the only people under age 60 (I'm not even kidding) in such a group is a fascinating social experience. Where else do you get stopped by a lady who says you could pay off your school loans being a Calvin Klein model because honey, you look fabulous in those pants?

Although her myopic squint lent little credibility to the observation, I really appreciate such a bold compliment from a lady in red velour pants with hair dyed to match. Would I ever say that to a random girl my age? Are you kidding? I wish I had her confidence. I think by the time you reach such an age, you don't give a crap and you just call things as you see them. You joke about your health problems and your deceased spouse. There is no time left to worry about what other people think. You ignore the rules. You just grab that cherub blanket and run. Or hobble.

Lemony Hummus
The lemon and yogurt in this version of hummus serve to lighten and brighten it, which is a nice reprieve from so much heavy holiday food. I also thinned it with water to make it more "dippable" to serve with the broccoli.

2 cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed
zest and juice of 1 lemon
1/3 cup plain yogurt
2 tablespoons tahini
1 tablespoon roasted garlic or 1 garlic clove, smashed
a handful of fresh parsley
1 glug of olive oil
cumin
paprika or cayenne
salt and pepper

Place chickpeas, lemon juice/zest, yogurt, tahini, garlic and parsley in your food processor and blend. Season to taste with salt, pepper, paprika, cumin and blend some more.

*This only because they had no tiny paperback versions of the next Lynley mystery! Still, this should at least tell me something about my tastes.

**Legitimately for some, selectively for others.

Roasted Broccoli and My Safeway Doppelganger

2010-12-12T16:48:00.000-08:00

Even though roasted broccoli sounds like a boring and/or gross way to get your veggies, let me assure you that my bacon-loving husband eats it like candy. When I take a pan of roasted broccoli out of the oven, it's practically a competition between the two of us to get one's fair share of the crunchy roasted morsels. Both the flavor and the texture are better than raw or boiled broccoli. For weeks I've told myself that this is not a bloggable recipe: too boring, too gross for most people. But when I realized that this is one of the few recipes that I make on a regular basis, I figured it was time to share.

However, the better background story is about how I when to Safeway late on a Thursday night. As I walked in the door I passed a guy talking to the manager and thought nothing of it as I practically sprinted to the other end of the store. (I wanted to get home and watch 30 Rock!) Then as I compared prices among the various brands of frozen broccoli, I heard a voice:

Hey... Don't I know you from somewhere?

It was the guy from the front of the store! He had followed me all the way to the frozen food aisle! And even after I was like, Uhh.... no... he continued to pepper me with questions and make awkward small talk. But you know what's really bizarre? That's the second time this has happened to me at this particular Safeway--last time it was in the bread aisle.

Have you even been told you have a "twin?"

Either there is a guy with amnesia who frequents the local Safeway, or there is some woman in Tempe who is my doppelganger. Or I was separated at birth from my twin. Thanks for never telling me, mom. But to the recipe:

Lemony hummus recipe forthcoming.

Roasted Broccoli

2-3 crowns fresh broccoli
olive oil
sea salt
freshly ground black pepper
a strong but pleasantly scented candle

Preheat oven to 400' Fahrenheit. Trim the broccoli crowns into small florets, discarding the stems or perhaps reusing them for cream of broccoli soup. (You can also buy bags of fresh florets in some stores, but from experience frozen doesn't work quite as well.) Rinse the florets in a colander and drain well, patting dry with a towel. If the broccoli is too wet, it won't crisp up well in the oven. In a large bowl, toss the broccoli with a few glugs of olive oil, a generous pinch of sea salt and several grinds of black pepper. Spread the broccoli on a foil-lined baking pan and bake until crispy and browned on the edges--about 40 minutes. You can save washing a bowl if you toss the broccoli with the oil/salt/pepper on the baking pan, but I always have a hard time doing this very well.

Light the candle as soon as you begin baking the broccoli or else you house will reek of broccoli stank for hours afterwards. This is the only bad part of this recipe, I promise.

The Reluctant Omnivore and the Accidental Vegetarian

2010-12-09T17:38:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago on a Friday night, we went out the eat with the elderly parishoners once again. We had a nicely laid plan: C would come to pick me up from my physical therapy appointment and we would drive straight to the restaurant in the neighboring town of Gilbert. Of course, Friday was the one day when my appointment took well over two hours. Of course I also had my bike with me and of course this was the one day we had trouble getting the front tire off to fit the bike into our mid-size sedan.

Also, I neglected to change my sweaty workout clothes before leaving the PT, meaning that I needed to change them in the car, on the interstate during rush hour traffic. Ever seen that episode of Seinfeld where Kramer crashes George's car because he sees Sue Ellen Mishke shirtless on the sidewalk? But at least Sue Ellen was wearing a bra for the whole scenario, which is more than I can say for my sorry self.

source

The establishment where we ate was a local barbecue joint: Joe's Real BBQ. The choice did not thrill me. The only "vegetables" on the menu were a) a "green" salad of a few browning romaine leaves dripping in Ranch dressing b) a baked potato famed for weighing one whole pound or c) coleslaw. Oh, and I think there was some carrot cake.

But being married to a decided omnivore has encouraged me, albeit reluctantly, to "find the good" in any meat-laden situation. So the "meat platter*" that we split was actually pretty tasty and I reminded myself that one meal devoid of vegetables and laced with saturated fat would not cause an immanent heart attack.

And you know what's even better? Having a meat-loving husband who has become willing to eat the strange vegetarian meals that I cook and in fact proudly tells me when he eats out and orders a vegetarian entrée. Sometimes I'll offer to buy bacon when I'm out grocery shopping and he will decline. Since when did this role reversal happen? Here's a dish to please a reluctant omnivore (there's only a tiny bit of bacon!) or an accidental vegetarian (it tastes smoky and rich even without the bacon!)

Barbecue Baked Beans (or Tofu)

30 ounces prepared beans (2-15 oz cans or 3 cups) or one 16-ounce block of firm tofu, but into small triangles

1/2 cup barbecue sauce

1 tablespoon brown sugar or maple syrup

1 onion, chopped

1/2 tablespoon soy sauce

1 tablespoon worcestershire sauce (strictly speaking, a non-vegetarian addition)

1 1/2 tablespoons dijon mustard

1/2 teaspoon powdered ginger

2 teaspoons chopped chipotle chile in adobo sauce

3 bacon slices, chopped into 1" pieces--optional

If using bacon, begin by cooking it in a sautee pan, stirring often, then removing it to drain on a paper towel. Remove some of the pan drippings, and sautee the onion in the rest of the bacon fat. Stir in the remaining ingredients, including the drained bacon. Continue cooking until beans or tofu are heated and mixture has thickened.

*Can I add "meat platter" to my list of disgusting words?

A Perfect Holiday

2010-12-01T21:18:00.000-08:00

Every previous home-from-school holiday has been about the same: just Mom, Dad, Jed, and me, cozy in our little blue house while the snow swirled around. I would sleep in and Dad would fix chocolate chip waffles for a late breakfast and we would drink freshly brewed mugs of his latest favorite coffee. We would linger around the table at meals, catching up on hometown gossip and stories from college. I would go on dog walks with my parents and at least once go for lunch to get a panini and a latte at Pattycakes. We would watch lots of Arrested Development or Charles Dickens Masterpiece Theater. We would get out the Christmas decorations, put Manneheim Steamroller on the ancient CD player and then decorate the Christmas tree together making witty banter about the ugly ornaments we had received as gifts. But each year I knew the next stage of my life loomed closer: marriage, graduate school, moving away, and thus each year I clung even more tightly to those holiday traditions and comforting familial habits* that arise from living with the people you love the most.

Christmas 2009

And then it finally happened: I got married, graduated, and moved far, far away. How do holidays work after that? Part of me wanted to step back into that reassuring world of the home-from-school holiday complete with its familiar and comforting traditions, but I knew that I couldn't. For one thing, I was with my husband now. Of course I spent time with him during previous holidays, but there are many events and traditions that he was never a part of. What if he thought all of those things were weird or boring? For another thing, we were planning to stay at my in-laws' house: no sleeping in my childhood bedroom and padding down the stairs in the morning, following the scent of chocolate chip waffles. And even though I love and appreciate my in laws, I was sad that I would now have to begin equally dividing my time among two places, which inevitably means less time with my own family.

Perhaps my underlying fear was that introducing change would in some way ruin the precious time I had to visit my family. But once articulated that way, one realizes how this fear is completely ridiculous. Life is change, and trying resist it or deny it or dread it only leads to unhappiness and discontentment.

True, this visit lacked many of the familiar components of the usual home-from-school holiday: there were neither waffles nor tree trimming, let alone sitting for ours in my pajamas reading back issues of The Sanborn Pioneer. But haven't I much more to be thankful for? I have a new family who welcomes and accepts me and doesn't even give me weird looks when I made oatmeal in a soup mug every morning for breakfast. And I have my own family who loves and accepts my new husband and purposefully made the best of our short visit.

Per my request, my dad even purchased ingredients for me to make my own contribution to our Thanksgiving meal. What a happy moment to be mixing up a batch of savory muffins as my brother pours brandy and cinnamon into the cranberries, my dad bastes the turkey, my mom mashes the sweet potatoes, and my husband comes through the door bearing* a bottle of Pinot Noir. And perhaps it is because we had so little time together that I treasure that small memory even more.

Butternut and Feta Muffins
from: 101 Cookbooks

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 tablespoons olive oil

2 cups / 9 oz / 255g cubed pumpkin or butternut squash, 1/2-inch cubes

salt and pepper to taste
1 large handful of baby spinach, chopped
2 tablespoons chopped parsley or cilantro
3 tablespoons sunflower seeds kernels
3/4 cup / 1 oz / 30g freshly grated Parmesan
100g / 3.5 oz / 1/2 cup cubed feta
2 teaspoons whole-grain mustard
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
3/4 cup / 180 ml milk
2 cups flour
4 teaspoons aluminum free baking powder
1 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt

Preheat oven to 405F / 200C, with rack in the top third. Use the butter to grease a 12-hole muffin pan and set aside.

Sprinkle the olive oil and some salt and pepper over the squash. Toss well and turn onto a baking sheet or roasting pan. Arrange in a single layer and bake for 15 - 25 minutes or until cooked through entirely. Set aside to cool.

Transfer two-thirds of the squash to a large mixing bowl along with the spinach, parsley, sunflower seeds, Parmesan, two-thirds of the feta, and all of the mustard. Gently fold together. In a separate bowl beat the eggs and milk together and add to the squash mix. Sift the flour and baking powder onto the squash mix, top with the salt and a generous dose of freshly ground black pepper and fold together just until the batter comes together, be careful not to over mix.

Spoon the mixture into the prepared pan, filling each hole 3/4 full, top each muffin with a bit of the remaining squash and feta (see photo up above). Bake for 15-20 minutes or until the tops and sides of the muffins are golden, and the muffins have set up completely. Let cool for a couple minutes then turn out onto a cooling rack. I like these muffins cooled a bit, served just warmer than room temperature.

Original recipe makes 12 muffins, but somehow I ended up with about 20.

*Sorry this sounds like a Boxcar Children book. I'm sure my revisionist memory is serving to edit out all of those times that I ended up crying over some irrelevant issue.

**Okay, for those of you who participated in this moment, you may notice it is slightly inconsistent. C forgot the wine on Thursday, but we remembered it on Sunday, but it completes the story better to say he brought it on Thursday.

A Thanksgiving Miracle!

2010-11-27T18:37:00.000-08:00

Yes, there have been many happy moments during this holiday weekend: flying back to Iowa and surprising my mom, helping prepare a Thanksgiving feast with my family, celebrating my sister-in-law's birthday in her college apartment, touring a Christmas-light-festooned Falls Park with my in-laws, and staying up late with my brother on Wednesday night having our usual home-from-school chat about life, love, and weird professors.

This is at Dairy Queen. No, she does not live at Dairy Queen.

Also, I got to run in the cold November mornings, and I can't believe how much I've missed it. I feel so much more hardcore and accomplished after a nice run in the cold wind. Of course, it's easy to say that when I get to fly back to Arizona on Monday and resume my usual running apparel of shorts and a long-sleeved shirt.

A. I couldn't find my mittens before I left Arizona, and B. it doesn't matter if you want to take a nice picture with your husband's family, the Great Plains wind will whip your hair into a mohawk.

But one of the best moments of the trip was on Wednesday in the airport when I realized half-way through my bag security screening that I had forgotten about a chocolate green smoothie I had packed to eat before I got to security. It was in my backpack housed in an old Nutella container. For some reason, the nice British TSA guy (who called me "love") didn't even touch it.* Considering it was a green-flecked brown goo spotted with bubbles, I'm not entirely surprised.

Not that wasting one green smoothie would have ruined my day, but a long day of traveling always leaves me feeling yucky, and the last thing I need is to be paying half my birthright for something in the snack shop at the airport, or heaven forbid, one of the in-flight snacks.**

This is actually a picture from earlier in the summer--just imagine it a bit more brown and sticking to the sides of a Nutella jar.

Miracle Chocolate Green Smoothie

2 big handfuls spinach (or more)
a few frozen banana chunks
splash of almond milk (or whatever milk you like)
a good spoonful of unsweetened cocoa powder
a dash of cinnamon
a dollop of peanut butter

Blend it up in your food processor. You may need to help your processor along by manually mixing in the spinach and then processing some more.

*Then again, if he wants to keep his job, he'd best get over any squeamishness over touching peoples' "packages."

**To be honest, the smoothie looked so gross (but tasted so good!), I was too embarrassed to eat it in the airport or on the plane, so I waited until I was safe back in my parents' house where I knew that would accept me no matter what weird things I eat.

Intuitive Cooking or Why You Should Convert From Your Recipe Religion

2010-11-22T19:32:00.000-08:00

I remember that summer when I first became interested in cooking. I fell in love with a recipe for "healthified" chocolate banana bread. I wanted to make it so badly, but Sanborn Foods, to my dismay, did not sell whole wheat pastry flour. I was crushed. Safeway and Hy-Vee in the neighboring berg of Sheldon didn't carry my obscure ingredient either. I would have to wait until my next trip to Sioux Falls--over 90 miles away--to get the whole wheat pastry flour so that I could make the banana bread. I cut the recipe out of "Cooking Light" and placed it on my desk where it could be an inspiring and daunting goal.

Pumpkin roasting trick: put pumpkin (or squash) in the oven as it preheats. After 20 minutes or so, carefully remove it with oven mitts. Let cool for a bit--the pumpkin will be much softer and you will be able to slice it much more easily. After slicing and removing seeds, return to the oven to finish roasting as usual.

I look back and laugh at this story because my adherence to the strict specifications of a magazine recipe seems a little... obsessive. Lately, I've found myself more and more cooking without recipes. Perhaps it's because I've lazily stopped planning weekly menus and buying groceries accordingly. Or perhaps as I spend more time reading articles with titles like The Theoretical Status of Latent Variables, I find myself needing an outlet that encourages more freedom and creativity. Perhaps I'm kind of embarrassed that most of my blog posts are simply accounts of how I cooked someone else's recipe: not interesting.

In fact, in this month's issue of Food and Wine,* Daniel Duane wrote a fantastic article about becoming an intuitive cook. Yes, it is important to develop a knowledge of technique by carefully following well-written instructions. Yet once you've mastered the component processes, you have the skills to put together something unique. Cooking without a recipe lets you "own" the final product. And because I in no way consider myself a real cook, I feel authorized to encourage you to resign from any religious following of recipes. If I can do it, so can you.

Just think: how many times have you forgone using a tasty recipe because you didn't have saffron threads in your spice cabinet? How many times have you ended up with half a cup extra of canned tomatoes because the recipe only called for 1.5 cups? How many extra trips to the store have you made to buy roasted Saigon cinnamon? When you start letting yourself experiment, you waste less because you work with what's in your kitchen, eliminating ingredients you don't have, and adding things like leftovers or even bizarre ingredients that you bought not knowing exactly how you'd use them.

Yesterday I wanted to make curried pumpkin soup. Here's a sketch of what I did; I didn't measure any of my ingredients or time any of the processes. The beauty in this is that you can make the kind of pumpkin soup that you like. You could add a peeled, diced apple. You could use coconut milk. You could use squash instead of pumpkin. You could ditch the curry. You could use roasted Saigon cinnamon. You choose.

Curried Pumpkin Soup

olive oil
1 onion, diced (I used a sweet onion)
2 garlic cloves, minced
cinnamon
curry powder
red curry paste
roasted pumpkin (I roasted two sugar pumpkins the night before. See how to roast squash.)
brown sugar
milk
sea salt and freshly ground pepper

Heat the oil in a pot over medium-high heat. Saute the onions until translucent, then add the garlic, cinnamon, curry and a pinch of salt. Cook for a few more minutes, then add the pumpkin and cook until it begins to darken a bit. Add some sugar. Remove the pot from the burner and, while stirring, pour in milk (or water, or chicken stock, or even apple juice) to reach desired consistency. Season to taste with more sugar, salt, pepper, and spices. If you would like chunky soup, simply return the pot to the burner and heat through. I personally prefer smooth veggie soups, so I pureed mine in the blender before heating again. Serve warm, cold, or at room temperature. We at ours with toast topped with olive oil, garlic powder, and Parmesan cheese, broiled until melted.

*Gift from my wonderful mother.

These Are a Few of My Least Favorite Words

2010-11-16T17:59:00.000-08:00

Oh I've got lots of them:

package

earwig

firm

phlegmatic
undergrowth

pustule

crusty

bowels
fish oil

panties

piedmont

Cloris Leachman

I could go on, but I'm frightened of the perverse Google searches that might lead here. But just one more...

Discharge.

Never has such a shudder-worthy word made me so giddy with excitement as when the physical therapist uttered those two syllables. Yes, I've finally been given a discharge from physical therapy: I'm off of the elliptical and back on the trails again. Actually, this happened a few weeks ago, but I wanted to delay the official announcement until I was sure that I was fully on the mend. And I figured that my first post-injury eight-mile-Monday was as good a reason as any.

And why not celebrate my first post-injury eight-mile-Monday with a cake? Especially since Monday (11/15) was National Bundt Day.*

Someone may have been more excited to taste the cake than to photograph it.

Be warned that this "cake" is adapted from a quick bread recipe, which is vegan and therefore a bit crumbly. However, the pumpkin and the bundt pan combine to produce a dense but tender cake which is above all (I can't believe I'm saying it...)

moist. Shudder. Mark your calendars: it's the first and last time you'll see me using such an odious word. But know that this is one of the few cases in which m* is a completely merited descriptor.

What are your least favorite words?

Pumpkin Gingerbread Bundt

adapted from: Joy the Baker

1 3/4 cups whole wheat pastry flour (or your flour of choice)
1 cup brown sugar, packed
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon ginger
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, finely grated (microplane works best, but a regular grater can work as well)
1 15-ounce can pumpkin puree, or just under two cups
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 tablespoon maple syrup
2 tablespoons molasses
2 tablespoons water

1 apple, peeled, cored, and chopped finely (optional)
1/2 cup chopped walnuts (or other nut--optional)

2 tablespoons chopped crystallized ginger (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Place a rack in the center of the oven. Grease and flour your bundt pan (or a loaf pan.) Sprinkle chopped crystallized ginger in bottom of pan

In a large bowl, whisk together flours, sugars, baking soda, baking powder, salt and spices.

In a medium bowl, carefully whisk together pumpkin puree, oil, maple syrup and water.

Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and use a spatula to fold all of the ingredients together. Make sure to scrape the bottom of the bowl well, finding any stray flour bits to mix in. Fold in the chopped nuts and apple pieces.

Pour batter into pan. Bake for 45 minutes to an hour, or until a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove from the oven. Let rest in the pans for 20 minutes, then invert onto a cooling rack.

*The real underlying motive for using a Bundt pan was so that I can get a sweet pin from The Food Librarian.

Just Apple Butter

2010-11-15T18:45:00.000-08:00

I've got no good story for today. I've been waiting around for something interesting to happen: something funny that I could somehow warp into a prologue to my latest recipe. I've tried surreptitiously watching people on the bus (behind my sunglasses, of course,) and jotting down things that people say to me or ironic little thoughts that I have.

Okay, I'll admit that I peeled apples while watching 30 Rock.

But when I look at all of my notes and all of my half-finished blog posts, they all seem rather boring. Except for the little girl who was wearing tights with cupcakes on them. But I've got no cupcake recipe to relate, and I resisted the urge to steal her tights. (Now that would have made an interesting story...) So I'll just give you an apple butter recipe with two suggestions.

1. Apple butter is a perfect part of a balanced second* breakfast.

Spread a scoop of apple butter and a smear of natural peanut butter inside of half a whole wheat pita pocket, and then pop it in the toaster. The outside will brown and crisp, and the fillings will get hot and oozey. Also good on plain toast.

2. Apple butter makes a great gift.

I made this for a friend/classmate from China who loves cooking and had only just tasted apple butter for the first time at local farmers' market. A few days later, she brought me a sampling of homemade dim sum: petite little butternut squash and pea dumplings--way cooler than a jar of cooked fruit.

So keep in mind that generosity begets generosity, although I'm not promising you'll always be richly rewarded with dim sum.

Apple Butter

4 pounds apples, peeled, cored, and chopped into large chunks (an apple corer makes easy work of this)
1 cup brown sugar
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1 pinch salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
cloves, nutmeg, ginger, allspice, and cardamom to taste

Note: all ingredients are variable. Add more or less sugar and/or spices depending on your flavor preference.

Prepare your apples and place with remaining ingredients in a slow cooker. Stir to evenly coat apples with sugar. Cook on high for about 1-2 hours, or until apples begin to soften, stirring occasionally. (Alternately, you can do this on the stovetop: simply place on medium-high heat and when the apples have released enough juice that the mixture begins to boil, reduce heat and simmer until soft.)

When apples are soft enough, use a potato masher or flat spoon to break up the apple chunks. You can stop this process at any time; simply cooking and mashing the apples will give you a delicious chunky apple sauce, but you must let it cook longer on low heat--up to another four hours. If you let it cook long enough, the water will evaporate, the sugar will caramelize, and the chunks will continue to disintegrate which makes true apple butter. You can also run it through a food processor to get the smoothest texture.

*Oatmeal is first breakfast, of course.

How to Pretend It's Fall In Arizona

2010-11-10T20:35:00.000-08:00

Even as the calender speeds towards Thanksgiving and the nighttime temperature plummets towards 50 degrees, it's hard to tell that it's truly fall around here. Still, there are small ways that I convince myself the season has turned--now if only I could convince the trees.

1. Visit Target and walk around the Thanksgiving/Christmas decorations (and wonder if the other people in the aisle have ever even made a real snowman.)

2. Ban yourself from iced coffee until next summer--except in the rare situation where you are at that high school marching band competition at 1 pm and it's 90 degrees with no shade or wind and you're so hot and caffeine-deprived that you think the Dunkin Donuts mascots's dance is actually kind of sexy and enticing and you wander blindly towards the coffee stand where the lady just looks at you and says, "Iced coffee?" And you mindlessly nod your head and hope fervently that you still have those two dollars in your jeans pocket left over from the last time you "had to" buy iced coffee. And as you feel the cold caffeine coursing through your veins please promise yourself it will be your last one* until next summer.

3. Open your bedroom window at night. When you wake up shivering at 5 AM, you can pretend you're back in your childhood bedroom which felt the exact same way in November--except that all the windows were closed and the furnace was on.

This was last October. Suck it up, Arizona!

4. Wear an earband and gloves when you go on your morning run.**

5. Wear extra layers to school--pretend it's not because the A/C is blasting year-round in the psychology building.

6. Make some soup--preferably something hearty, creamy, full of flavor, and piping hot to warm your bones. Sit outside to eat it. If you're warm, take off a layer or two*** of clothing to get cold and make the experience more authentic.

Baked Potato Soup
adapted from Cooking Light via Handle the Heat

4 (6-ounce) red potatoes
2 teaspoons olive oil
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves of garlic, minced
1 1/4 cups lower-sodium chicken broth
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups milk, divided
1/4 cup plain yogurt (or sour cream)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3 bacon slices, halved
1/3 cup shredded cheddar cheese (the sharper the better!)
4 teaspoons thinly sliced green onions (chives would have been optimal)

1. Pierce potatoes with a fork. Microwave on HIGH 13 minutes or until tender. Cut in half; cool slightly.

2. While potatoes cook, heat oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add onion; sauté 3 minutes. Add garlic. Reduce heat and allow onions to caramelize, stirring occasionally for about 20 minutes. Add broth and return heat to medium-high. Combine flour and 1/2 cup milk in measuring cup; add to pan then add the remaining 1 1/2 cups milk. Bring to a boil; stir often, being careful to not let the milk boil over. Cook 1 minute. Remove from heat; stir in sour cream, salt, and pepper.

3. Arrange bacon on a paper towel on a microwave-safe plate. Cover with a paper towel; microwave on HIGH for 4 minutes. Crumble bacon.

4. Scoop potato into soup and discard potato skins. Coarsely mash potatoes into soup using a potato masher. Ladle soup into four bowls and top with cheese, green onions, and bacon. (Ingrid note: I simply combined the potatoes (skin still on) with the soup and pureed it in my food processor.)

*Iced coffee is like the sugary cocktail of the caffeine world. Whereas hot coffee encourages thoughtful sipping, a sweating glass of cold-brew is often downed in a few gulps--leaving you wanting just a bit more.

**Okay, I was actually wearing shorts and secretly mocking those wimps who wouldn't stand a chance running outside this time of year in Iowa! Still, I relished the first day I got to wear a long sleeve shirt.

***This is assuming that you have a nice patio fence which precludes any questions from golfers/neighbors curious as to why you're sitting outside shivering in your undies, hunched over a bowl of soup.

How to Appear Like a Classy Adult When You Are Actually a Cheap Student

2010-11-06T18:42:00.000-07:00

1. When it's Friday and your closet looks barren because you've already worn all (four) of your cute school outfits, just put on your favorite running outfit. No shame in that--in fact, those running shoes alone cost ten times more than the last pair of jeans you bought at Plato's closet. Plus you might fool a naive bus driver into thinking you're a "professional bicycle rider."*

2. If you're worried that the glasses you bought in high school (and can't afford to replace) will make you look too young at the expensive** hipster restaurant, pair them with real lipstick, old lady pearls, and a cardigan. Didn't even get carded. Yes!

3. Go to a trendy coffee shop with your laptop and get the cheapest*** thing on the menu. Then spread out all of your books and articles so it looks like you're doing something really difficult and important. If anyone walks by, be ready to quick change your internet tab from Facebook to the ASU psychology home page to encourage the illusion of importance and productivity.

4. Serve fruit, cheese, and nuts for dessert. No one has to know that the fruit, cheese, and nuts were all on sale, or that you don't consider that a real dessert and will probably eat a cookie later.

Pear, Chèvre, and Almond Plate

2 pears

3 tablespoons almonds, roasted and chopped coarsely

2 ounces fresh goat cheese

1 tablespoon honey

Core and cut the pears into eight equal slices. This is easiest with an apple corer, but can be done with some patient knife skills. Combine the honey and goat cheese in a small bowl. Arrange the pear slices on a platter, leaving a small circle in the middle. Spoon the cheese/honey into the middle, and top with crushed almonds. Make sure to call it "chèvre" instead of goat cheese for extra classy points.

*I say naive because I was wearing running shoes, running shorts, and a shirt that said "Marathon to Marathon" and she still thought I was a cyclist. Umm... if I was a hard core cyclist, I'd be riding my bike home, not putting it on the front of the bus so I can sit and read my novel in the air conditioning!

**Tip 2.5: only go to hipster restaurants featured on local dines. No one but your server has to know that you got the food at half price.

***Good thing I'm a purist and I enjoy black coffee more than frou-frou drinks. (Or at least that thought has kept me sane after years of pulling this trick.)

Back to the Mystery

2010-11-03T20:20:00.000-07:00

I used to never read for pleasure during the school year. I told myself that I "didn't have time," but this was only an excuse to cover up the real reason: pleasure reading isn't fun during the school year. I attribute this to the fact that I already do so much reading--especially academic reading that requires lots of concentration and often the patience to re-read a section several times over. So after a long day of slogging through boring and/or complicated articles, I don't feel like diving* back into "Moby Dick."

But that was just the problem. I only allowed myself to read books that were intellectually stimulating, or at least could be found in the classics** section at Barnes and Noble. I liked to think of my book as an accessory that would show off my high brow taste to anyone who happened to glance at the title. Granted, this is a great way to improve one's vocabulary during the summertime, but such a high standard makes reading during the school year almost miserable.

Instead I need something easy to pick up and hard to put down--a book that will include at least one interesting plot turn during the 40-minute bus commute. I need a book that does not tax my intellect, concentration, or patience: a book that is simply... entertaining.

The perfect solution: a mystery.

I love mysteries! I love them in every part of life, but especially in paperback. My family used to always watch Mystery! on PBS, and I burned through all of the Agatha Christie mysteries some time in middle school. Now I've returned to my roots, reading Elizabeth George's Inspector Lynley mysteries, which we watched on PBS*** when I was in high school.

Yes, they come in paperback, and yes they have those trashy looking covers with nothing more than a forgettable background and the author's name emblazoned in large metallic letters. Yes, my husband has called out my hypocrisy after years of mocking**** his popular fiction reading choices. But all of this is so worth it. Never again will I lie about being "too busy" to read.

Sergeant Havers and Inspector Lynley

But back to the (other) mystery. Unfortunately, I still have no conclusions about the latte men. But did anyone figure out what was in the salad from last week? Those who guessed were close, but no one uncovered the key ingredient: mango. I actually just now realized that mangoes are out of season and probably no one will be able to make this recipe for a while. Still, I had to give you the recipe, and it's a good one to file away. This salad is simple but exotic; like a good mystery novel, it grabs your attention away from the humdrum responsibilities of life and plunges you into another exciting world, if only for a few minutes.

Mango Slaw with Cashews and Mint
from: Smitten Kitchen

2 mangoes, peeled, pitted and julienned
1 to 1 1/4 pounds Napa cabbage, halved and sliced very thinly
1 red pepper, julienned
1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
6 tablespoons of fresh lime juice, from about two limes
1/4 cup rice vinegar
2 tablespoons oil of your choice
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes, or to taste (or omit this and whisk in a chile paste to taste)
1/4 cup thinly sliced fresh mint leaves
1/4 cup toasted cashews, coarsely chopped

Toss mangoes, cabbage, pepper and onion in a large bowl. Whisk lime juice, vinegar, oil, salt and red pepper in a smaller bowl and pour over slaw. You can either serve this immediately or leave the flavors to muddle for an hour in the fridge. Before serving, toss with mint leaves and sprinkle with cashews.

About your mango: This salad will work with almost any variety or ripeness of mango, whether sour or sweet. Use the one you can get, or that you enjoy the most. In general, a firmish not overly ripe mango (unlike the very ripe, sweet one I used) holds up best but all will be delicious in this salad.

*That was a pun.
**Granted, there are a lot of classic books that are gripping page turners (The Count of Monte Cristo) but Walden is no thriller.
***So I watched PBS with my parents when I was in high school! So what?
****I mock, but really he's better read than I am.

And So Begins the Pumpkin

2010-10-31T21:09:00.000-07:00

Did everyone have a good Halloween weekend? C and I got to be actors in a haunted house which was part of a big Halloween festival put on by the church where C works.

It was the first time I've ever helped my husband put on lipstick. Also the first time I've had a gory costume, after many happy childhood years as a cheerleader.* It was a blast. At first, I was disappointed because my tortured-maiden-in-the-butcher's-room act didn't elicit a lot of screams from the kids who walked through the haunted house. But today I got lots of compliments** from the adult volunteers who said I was the creepiest part of the whole thing. So, y'know... a success in general.

Also, I absolutely loved seeing the elderly ladies dressed up--perhaps even more than the little kids. Here's the pastor and his pirate parishoner:

I know I promised this weekend to give you the ingredients of my mystery salad, but in the spirit of festivity, I'll end the month of October with a pumpkin dinner roll*** recipe. Yes, even after all my big talk about using fresh autumn produce, I will admit hypocrisy: I adore canned pumpkin. What it lacks in authenticity it makes up for in convenience.**** Even more appalling is that I only used canned pumpkin during this time of the year, somehow deluding myself into thinking it really is "seasonal." Be warned: now that I've opened this first can of pumpkin, saved from last winter, there is no stopping the deluge of pumpkin recipes.

Pumpkin Dinner Rolls

adapted from: (never home)maker

1 cup white bread flour
1-1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1 packet (2 1/4 teaspoons) active dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water (wrist-temperature)
1 tablespoon maple syrup (or honey or brown sugar)
1 cup pumpkin puree
1 to 3 tablespoons milk

1 teaspoon cinnamon, pinch nutmeg (optional)

In a medium bowl, whisk together the yeast and 1/4 cup of warm water. Let sit for 5 minutes (until frothy).
In the bowl of an electric mixer, whisk together the white bread flour and 1-1/2 cups of the whole wheat, and the salt.

In your yeast mixture, whisk in the maple syrup and pumpkin puree. Then pour the wet ingredients into the dry and mix using the paddle attachment. If the dough seems a bit too dry, add in -- 1 tablespoon at a time -- the soy (or almond/regular/etc.) milk. The dough should be smooth and elastic.

Then, drip a bit of olive oil into the bowl (hardly any -- just enough for a light, light coat, use a spray oil if you have one) and cover with some plastic wrap and let puff in a warm place for 20 minutes.

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, or place your bread stone in the oven. If using a stone, let the oven preheat for at least 45 minutes.

When the dough is puffed, divide dough into 8 balls and flatten with the palm of your hand a bit. Place the rounds onto the baking sheet or bread stone. They don't need much room to puff.

Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the rolls are golden brown.

*A dark secret from my past which was only resurrected when I acted as a (ditzy) cheerleader as part of the cross country team's act in a campus-wide talent show.

**Not including a creeper guy walking through with his kids who made a completely inappropriate reference to the fact that I was tied up. Hello! This is a family event, not a cable tv drama!

***I should also tell that C was not overly impressed with these. He thought they were too dense. Admittedly, they are dense, but they are certainly not dry or tough at all.

****Such statements may or may not apply to Starbucks, Taco Bell, canned beans, and purchased ciabatta loaf, depending on how elitist I'm feeling and/or how much time/money I have.

Mystery of the Day: The Latte Men Vanish

2010-10-27T21:31:00.000-07:00

Do you ever get obsessed with life's little mysteries?

Although my tea was not served with gourd and bombilla (above) this is the traditional way to drink it. Source

Today I rode my bike home from school and stopped at Solo Cafe for a little Mate Latte to keep me company for an hour as I studied for my upcoming test. I was sitting outside, trying desperately to squelch my tendency to people watch and actually get some reading done. In fact, I was not even staring at them when the two guys from the next table suddenly got up, drinks in hand, and strode over to my table.

Hi, we have to go to our car for a minute. Can we leave our drinks with you? Will you watch them?
Uhh... yeah.

One of the guys asked me my name and he and his friend introduced themselves. They had no longer set down their china mug and iced tea glass than they were gone. That's a little weird, I thought. Then again, understandable. Since moving to a real city, I've been very conscious about not leaving my things unattended--but a $3 latte? Maybe they just didn't want the staff to clear their drinks thinking they were done.

Why did both of them have to leave? And why did they seem so hurried? Maybe there would be a clue when they came back.

But after about forty five minutes, I was getting anxious. I was on my bike and I needed to leave before 5:30 if I wanted to get home before sunset. Plus both my cup and studying capacity were drained. I sat there for a few minutes, watching the cars pull into the parking lot, sure that each one contained the latte mystery men returning to collect their beverages.

I finally left, deciding that my personal safety was more important than guarding a couple of tepid drinks for two strangers. I brought the mugs back into the counter at the cafe and explained the situation to a sympathetic barista. Then I hopped on my bike and fled home, paranoid that they would just be returning and see me leaving the parking lot, abandoning their coffee.

But now it's killing me to not know what happened! I surmise that they did not intend to be gone so long, or else they could have just asked to put their drinks in to-go cups. Also, what could be so crucial that both of them needed to leave a coffee shop just seconds after sitting down?

Any clever explanations?

Here's another mystery: see if you can name at least four ingredients in this dish:*

*Solution to be revealed later this week.

Lately Loving

2010-10-25T19:01:00.000-07:00

Here's a brief list of some of my current favorites:

They Draw and Cook. You know you've found a good blog when you read through the entire collection of archived posts and still want more. Maybe someday when both of us are unemployed again, C and I can make a sweet illustrated recipe blog.

Food News Journal. A repository of fascinating food-related news articles. Arm yourself with the power to inject life into a boring conversation with some food-related current events.

Cooler Weather. There is no way to describe my elation as I walk around campus in the balmy 85 degrees. And we get these gorgeous sunsets. Even though I get sad that for the first time in my life, I've missed a Midwestern autumn, watching the sunset wearing shorts and a t-shirt makes it not so bad.

This is the view outside our living room.

Passive Aggressive Notes. Just don't click on this link if you write passive aggressive notes and don't like being made fun of. Or you'd like to get anything done in the next half hour.

Quadrago. Nothing like a little battle of the wits to spice up your marriage. At first I felt bad that my religion/art major husband bought a spatial reasoning game for us to play together; he was obviously setting himself up for embarrassment. Then I was embarrassed when I lost every other game, which has motivated both of us to play this at least every other night. It's like Connect Four in three dimensions.

Zhena's Gypsy Tea: Goji Cacao Green Tea. So perfect for those "chilly" mornings. Also beneficial when the morning includes a two-hour long Multiple Regression lecture.

Running Endurance Calculator. Motivation for my next marathon! I'm planning to start taking my resting heart rate when I wake up the next few mornings so I can calculate my fastest possible marathon time. Thanks, NPR, for once again bringing me the most relevant, interesting information.

Clam Series. I've rededicated my life to the clam series. One of the first exercises prescribed by my PT was the clam series. I was too embarrassed to tell him that our coaches mandated these for the last two years, but I lazily quit as soon as I was on my own. I don't know how many of my Radier ladies are reading this, but I beg you: always do your clam series. No excuses. Not only is it helping prevent further injury to my knee by improving my running form, but it helps keep IT band injuries at bay--two of the most common running injuries, especially for women. Also, make sure to do them right: keep the hips stacked perpendicular to the ground, and don't move them at all when you lift your leg. If you've been doing them wrong, you'll find that it's harder to do them with correct form, and it will really work your glutes. Plus the clam series will give you a rock-hard bootay.

Squash. I cannot get enough squash. Fortunately, it is squash season and the price per pound is inching downwards. Here's my latest squash love:

Italian Sweet and Savory Squash Bowls

from: The Kitchn
2 small to medium acorn squash (the halves should be the size of a small bowl)

Filling:
16 ounces Italian turkey sausage (or any Italian sausage meat or meat substitute) [IC note: I made one squash without the meat, and it was just as good]
1-2 tablespoons olive oil (divided)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/3 cup yellow onion, chopped
1 1/2 teaspoons red pepper flakes
1/2 teaspon Italian herb mix (dried oregano, thyme, basil, parsley - use fresh if you have it!)
1/2 cup roasted red peppers, chopped
1/4 cup reconstituted sundried tomatoes or roasted tomatoes, chopped
1/2 cup drained canned or jarred artichoke hearts, chopped
2 cups fresh baby spinach
1/4 cup fresh basil, sliced into thin ribbons
Salt and pepper as needed

Topping:
Fresh whole wheat bread crumbs [IC note: worth making from scratch]
Kosher or sea salt
4 tablespoons water
4 pinches of black pepper
1/2 cup hard cheese such as parmesan or pecorino cheese, finely grated

Fresh bread crumbs:
Toast 2 slices of whole wheat bread in toaster until deep brown, chop into fine bread crumbs (it should be easy if toast is very crispy) fry in 1/2 tablespoon of olive oil. Toss with a big pinch of salt and set aside.

Wash, halve, and scrape the inside of the squash. Place the squash in a microwave safe shallow dish with a little water (about half an inch deep). Microwave on high for 7-10 minutes or until tender. Leave in microwave until ready to use.

In a large saute pan fry crumbled turkey sausage, olive oil, onions, garlic, red pepper flakes, and dry herbs on medium heat. When sausage is almost cooked through add chopped roasted red peppers, sundried tomatoes, and artichoke hearts. Cook with turkey until turkey is cooked through. Add 1/4 cup water if it seems dry. Add spinach and toss gently until spinach is wilted. Toss in the fresh basil. Taste for seasoning and salt as needed. Remove from heat.

Place squash halves on a lightly greased cookie sheet. Mound the filling into squash halves and sprinkle with a pinch of black pepper. Add one tablespoon of water to each squash. Coat the filled squash with fresh breadcrumbs and sprinkle with a thick layer of grated cheese.

Broil just until cheese is lightly browned.

The Un-Recipe Post

2010-10-23T18:16:00.000-07:00

While I do love all topics edible, I also realize that the kitchen is a great source for nifty things to do. Did you know that with only a few pantry staples you can:

1) tone your abs
2) make your apartment smell like the holidays
3) make your skin soft and radiant
4) bring some autumn festivity to your table top

1. Use a squash in place of a medicine ball for added resistance in core exercises.
Squash-over head sit ups: try to use your abs to pull you into the sitting position. Don't rely on momentum from swinging your arms.

Row boats: balancing on your tailbone with feet in the air, twist from side to side, bringing the squash with you each time. You can substitute a big ole squash for pretty much any exercise that uses a medicine ball--except the ones that require bouncing and/or tossing.

2. Fill your apartment with a delicious spice and citrus scent that no candle can replicate.

Combine citrus peels and whole spices in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and let simmer to fill your house with the most tantalizing scent. My favorite combination is grapefruit peel and ginger slices, but any of these will create a delicious combination:

orange peel
lemon peel
lime peel
grapefruit peel
apple parings
pear parings
ginger slices
whole cloves
cinnamon sticks
whole cardamom seed or pods

Just make sure to keep enough water in the pan so it doesn't burn, and remember to turn it off when you go to bed or leave the house. However, you can use the same peels and spices for as long as they keep giving off scent--usually a few days.

3. Make your own face mask.*

I used to do stuff like this when I was really little. I had a whole book of natural spa recipes, except that I wasn't allowed to use my dad's coffee grinder for oatmeal or dried adzuki beans, plus they did not sell peppermint essential oil at the local drugstore. So I guess I always associated homemade beauty products as childish, until I read a reader request on the Kitchn for homemade facial scrubs. First I tried the coffee one:

Invigorating Coffee Scrub
adapted from: Beauty Secrets Revealed

2 tablespoons coffee grounds
2 tablespoons rolled oats
1 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon olive oil
2-3 drops essential oils (optional--I actually happened to have some lavender oil I got from Bath and Body Works ages ago)

Wash face with a gentle cleanser and pat dry. Mix all ingredients in a small bowl, and apply to face for 20 minutes. Resist all urges to touch your face, even if it itches, because you will get oily coffee grounds on your hands. After 20 minutes, wet finger tips and gently scrub face, then rinse and pat dry. I like to do the application and rinse over the kitchen sink, because I'm afraid the oatmeal/coffee might clog our bathroom sink.

Then I made this one:

Vanilla Sugar Face Scrub

2 teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon olive oil
1-2 drops vanilla extract

Dampen face, gently massage in sugar scrub, rinse, and pat dry.

4. Put your produce on the table.

This is perhaps my favorite idea because it's so painfully obvious. For weeks, I've been lusting after the beautiful displays of "decorative" gourds at the supermarket, completely forgetting that I've usually got one or two cute (edible) squashes stashed away in the dark pantry. Even a self-proclaimed not Martha can recognize that a nice little gourd and bowl of apples brightens up the dining table. Plus having the apples out makes them convenient to remember on the way out the door (for those residents in this apartment who do no meticulously pack a lunch the night before.)

Do you have any good non-edible uses for food?

*I had C take a picture of my with my coffee mask, but I just couldn't bring myself to share it with the world. I looked like I had been dragged through the dirt, plus the kitchen florescent light made my eyes look sunken and my skin look sallow. It was very creepy. At least I'll be ready for Halloween.

Picture-Imperfect Dinner Party

2010-10-16T13:43:00.000-07:00

The only thing that I want in life is to be better than Martha Stewart. This means not only will I have to be a bit more discreet about my insider trading, but I will also have to throw the most fabulous dinner parties with four courses, unexpected but delightful wine pairings, and a perfectly executed tablescape, complete with hand-calligraphed placecards. Oh, and I'll need to artfully photograph the whole thing and publish it online and in my magazine.

Our entire bathroom is the size of this table.

It makes completing a PhD sound easy.

Even though we've hosted many people and eaten many candlelit dinners just the two of us, this weekend was probably the first nice dinner we've hosted for others--two college friends visiting from the midwest. Of course, I wanted things to be just perfect, and of course, they weren't.

Our tiny dining room table is the cheapest one you can find at Ikea--and we bought it used off of Craigslist. There is barely enough room for four plates and glasses, let alone a tablescape of gold-painted mini-gourds. The menu, instead of being thoughtfully planned for weeks in advance, was thrown together last minute: our friend Carl brought us a nice cut of Iowa flank steak. The two boys made a marinade found on some non-name reader submitted recipe website, and I did little more than put the steak under the broiler.

Running short on time and ingredients, I made the same unimpressive dish I make almost weekly: roasted squash, this time adding some apples and red onions. Instead of making my own artisan bread, I bought a loaf of day-old ciabatta on sale.* While delicious, it also had a large air pocket on top, which gave each slice a nice big hole in one corner, rendering it nearly useless for bruschetta or crostini. Instead, I made a little tomato-herb compote which everyone could apply to their own slices as desired.

Then of course I forgot to even get a good picture of my bread with tomatoes. I'm always loath to serve up extra food simply for the purposes of photography, so I asked my husband to get a few shots of his. This is the result.

Mmmm... dirty plate!

In fact, pretty much nothing about the set-up was part of my ideal dinner-party plan, complete with blurry pictures for documentation.

Despite all of my obsession over details and all of my misgivings that what we have to offer isn't good enough or nice enough, dinner was a success. For the first time since we moved here, the weather was cool enough to move the table and chairs outside and eat on the patio. I even put up a string of Italian lights. We drank wine and used cloth napkins and chatted through the dimly-lit evening.

I should have remembered that lesson I learned while wedding planning: it's not about the Martha-Stweart details. I'll never have a picture-perfect party, but that's okay. It's so much more important to find pleasure in sharing the things we do have, even if it's just leftover biscotti and a $20 bottle of wine.** Here's the recipe for the tomato-herb topping, which my husband was eating by the spoonful, so it must have been good.

Tomato-Herb Bruschetta

1 loaf of day-old artisan bread, sliced and toasted
2 tomatoes, cored and chopped fine
2 tablespoon olive oil
handful of fresh herbs, such as parsley or basil, chopped
2 cloves of minced garlic, raw or roasted

You can toast the bread by brushing with extra olive oil and broiling on both sides, or by sauteeing in a pan. Or you could serve it plain, like I did. Mix the tomatoes, oil, herbs, and garlic in a bowl. Season to taste with sea salt and fresh black pepper.

*Purchased from a local baker at the Tempe Farmers Market, so +1 for that.
**Which is actually kind of extravagant for our status as recent grads, but it's comparatively cheap, so you get the point.

Wheat Bread Kids

2010-10-15T20:34:00.000-07:00

If you haven’t noticed, it’s rather fashionable these days to bemoan the state of the typical American diet. Even though I believe many of these criticisms are well founded, it often becomes simply another platform from which to look down on everyone else: those people who don't cook, don't know where their food comes from, and don't care. And inevitably once a junk-food bashing rant begins, someone pulls a trump card: “My mom didn’t even buy junk food. We weren’t even allowed to drink soda at my friend’s house. We had to bring carrot sticks to school for lunch.”

But y’know what? That does not make you cool. Actually, it makes your mom cool, but I think we stopped living vicariously through our parents’ successes in about sixth grade. So tell your mom good job, but please admit that you were not totally okay with all the tofu she made you eat.

I say this because I, too, have been guilty of relating stories of bringing whole wheat sandwiches to school and how my peers made fun of my romaine and raspberry vinaigrette salad. My mom only allowed us two cookies per day and we ate lots of stir fry and yogurt. I was always such a martyr for good, healthy food.

Even the most humble foods gain elevated status when baked on a bread stone.

However to claim such an untarnished history would be hypocritical. There were many all-American convenience foods which tempted my young palate: Poptarts, Cool Ranch Doritos, Reese's Peanut Butter Puffs, DiGiorno Pizza... the list goes on.

Shamefully, one of my very favorite treats was the Hot Pocket, allowed to us on those rare evenings when my parents were gone, but my brother and I were too young to cook. Crispy, tender, flaky crust oozing with marinara, mozzarella, and pepperoni? How could a child say no? Do you remember how they came out of the microwave, piping hot, the cardboard sleeve soaked in grease? And they were so cute! How novel the way they fit in your hand! Yes, this is a dark skeleton that has been hidden behind years of pretension over my "preference" for healthy food. And lately, the craving for a savory pastry pocket has been creeping back.

Perfect for grad school! Eat it with one hand, take notes with the other!

Alas! How does one reconcile a nostalgic attachment to the Hot Pocket with a current passion for cooking and nutrition?

Answer: make your own dang pastry. This tastes nothing like a Hot Pocket of course, but considering the nutritious ingredients, I feel it's a good compromise.

What's your favorite nostalgic junk food?

Curried Squash Pockets

Pizza Dough
from: Mark Bittman

2 teaspoons instant yeast
3 cups flour--I used 1 c whole wheat and 2 c whole wheat pastry flour.
3 Tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 cup water
2 teaspoon salt
1 Tablespoon roasted garlic (optional)

Combine the flour, yeast, and salt in a food processor. Turn the machine on and add 1 cup water and the oil through the feed tube.

Process for about 30 seconds, adding more water, a little at a time, until the mixture forms a ball and is slightly sticky to the touch. If it is still dry, add another tablespoon or two of water and process for another 10 seconds. (In the unlikely event that the mixture is too sticky, add flour a tablespoon at a time.)

Turn the dough onto a floured work surface and knead by hand for a few seconds to form a smooth, round dough ball. Put the dough in a bowl and cover with plastic wrap; let rise until the dough doubles in size, 1 to 2 hours. (You can cut this rising time short if you’re in a hurry, or you can let the dough rise more slowly, in the refrigerator, for up to 6 or 8 hours.) Proceed to Step 4 or wrap the dough tightly in plastic wrap or a zipper bag and freeze for up to a month. (Defrost in the bag or a covered bowl in the refrigerator or at room temperature; bring to room temperature before shaping.)

When the dough is ready, form it into a ball and divide it in half. Freeze one half for later use, and divide the other half into four pieces; roll each piece into a round ball. Put each ball on a lightly floured surface, sprinkle with flour, and cover with plastic wrap or a towel. Let rest until they puff slightly, about 20 minutes.

Filling:
2 1/2 cups black beans, drained well
2 1/2 cups roasted squash (substitute baked sweet potato or pumpkin)
1 cup crumbled queso fresco (or feta)
zest and juice of one lime
curry powder, salt, and pepper
fresh herbs, such as cilantro or parsley, chopped

Combine all ingredients in a bowl. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and curry. Leave out the curry and lime if you're worried about picky eaters. It contributes an... interesting taste, to say the least.

Preheat a baking stone in oven to 450'.

On each round of dough, scoop about 1 1/3 cups filling onto half the dough, leaving a half-inch margin. Fold the dough over the filling to form a semi-circle and pinch or crimp the edges together to seal. If the dough is too dry, wet your fingers with water.

Repeat for remaining dough circles, and place pockets evenly spaced on baking stone (or baking sheet.) Bake for 30 minutes, or until dough is golden and crispy.

It's the Little Things

2010-10-06T21:27:00.000-07:00

Despite my many tales of woe, let me assure you that my life isn't all that bad. Between the forgotten belongings and bans from running, there are plenty of little things that give me joy:

Like the guy at the bike shop who put a new inner tube on my bike for free, pumped up the other tire, and straightened out the wheel so the breaks didn't rub anymore. Thanks, bike guy. You totally made my day.

A thoughtful note from C written in Sriracha sauce on our kitchen counter.

Don't worry, the counter was already dirty. Or maybe that's just another reason to worry.

The (ghetto) microwave in my office at school--letting me make a comforting mug of tea between classes.

Notice how the power cord needs to be reached across the doorway to the power strip. Don't tell OSHA.

On Sunday, the offhanded glance at the bookshelf where I noticed, wedged between two Richard Russo books, my husband's passport, which has been missing since our move and has been an occasional source of deep consternation.*

The elliptical machines at ASU that have TVs. Yes, I've resorted to watching La La's Full Court Wedding while getting on my cardio. (I only wish I was joking.) I figure that if I've already sunk to the level of indoor exercise machines, I might as well go all-out and kill a few brain cells while I'm at it. But lest you think I've lost all sense of propriety, I'll have you know that sometimes I listen to the podcast of Science Friday to purge my mind of frivolous filth. Either way, I can thank modern technology for making my running hiatus at least bearable.

How about the cashier at Safeway handing me a coupon for free almond milk? Okay, the day just got really good.

Usually I'm a purist who buys the original, but somehow because it was free, I felt better about getting vanilla.

And then there's always cunning little leftover cashew lentil patties to bring to lunch. Yeah, life isn't so bad.

My mother always said: never trust an attractive vegetarian burger. These are very trustworthy.

Curried Cashew Lentil Patties
from: Eating Well

2 cups plus 2 tablespoons water, divided
1 cup diced peeled carrots, (2-4 medium)
1/2 cup red lentils, rinsed (see Ingredient note)
3/4 teaspoon salt, divided
3/4 cup raw cashews
6 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
1 cup chopped onion, (1 medium)
1 clove garlic, minced
2 teaspoons curry powder
3/4 cup fine dry breadcrumbs
Freshly ground pepper, to taste

Combine 2 cups water, carrots, lentils and 1/4 teaspoon salt in a saucepan. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low. Partially cover and simmer until the lentils are tender and falling apart, 12 to 14 minutes. Drain in a colander, gently pressing out excess liquid. Transfer to a plate; let cool to room temperature, about 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, toast cashews in a small dry skillet over medium-low heat, stirring, until golden and fragrant, 2 to 4 minutes. Transfer to a plate to cool.

Heat 2 teaspoons oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add onion and cook, stirring, until softened, 5 to 8 minutes. Add garlic, curry powder and the remaining 2 tablespoons water; cook, stirring, for 1 minute. Remove from heat and let cool.

Pulse the cashews in a food processor until finely chopped. Add the lentils and the onion mixture; pulse until the mixture is cohesive but still somewhat textured. Transfer to a bowl and stir in breadcrumbs, the remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt and pepper; mix well.

With dampened hands, form the mixture into six 1/2-inch-thick patties, using about 1/2 cup for each.
Using 2 teaspoons oil per batch, cook 2 to 4 patties at a time in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat until evenly browned and heated through, about 4 minutes per side. [Ingrid note: I made a total of 10 mini patties, browned them in the skillet, then just baked them at 350 degrees for 10 minutes each side. I think this saved me some time, plus the smaller patties hold together better.]

Serve with pitas, cucumbers, lettuce, tomatoes, and plain yogurt.

*Yes, if you've been keeping up with TPE, you'd notice that both of our passports were missing for a while, which was especially disturbing because there is a woman who digs through our dumpster every week. Just one of the many sketchy aspects of our lifestyle right now... pretend you didn't read that, Mom.

They Call Me... The Aqua Jogger

2010-10-03T20:02:00.000-07:00

You might have seen me in the ASU pool lately--wearing a dorky flotation belt that barely keeps my head above water, flailing my arms and legs rapidly, but moving down the lane with painful slowness: about four minutes per lap. According to my unscholarly but thorough internet research, pool running should keep me in good shape until I'm back on the roads, although it’s clear that pool running doesn’t carry the same sex appeal as cruising down a tree-lined path flashing my sculpted calves at the people I pass.*

Yes, over a week ago the physical therapist told me I should abstain from road running for at least three weeks so some stupid knee injury could heal. This, of course, was like asking me to give up oatmeal. How could he take away something so good that I love so much?

But the aqua jogging, although a tacky impostor of the real thing, has been a good way to keep up my cardiovascular fitness. I even read about injured runners who aqua jogged and left the pool in better shape, setting new personal records once on the road again. Plus I aqua jogging lets me exercise outside during the hottest part of the day, and the pool’s perfect for people watching. I began to get hopeful that being injured maybe wouldn’t be so bad.

Then my other, uninjured knee began to twinge during my pool sessions. I figured I should tell the PT on Friday, who then forbade me from even pool running for at least the weekend. Awkward silence as I mentally considered non-compliance. Then he asks, “So what are you doing for the rest of the day?”

And in a sad, pathetic voice, I was like, “Well, I was going to go over to the ASU pool…”

Then he told me about how "funny" it is that runners are often the least compliant patients and how they try to keep running and just make their injuries worse. Was he reading my brain? He then suggested the elliptical machine as an alternative. I told** him that I’d rather be tied to a chair in front of a TV running a Hannah Montana 24-hour marathon.***

Yeah, I could have gone after my appointment to do some elliptical work, but instead I simply went home, discouraged and sulky. I even stared into that black abyss by wondering if my hiatus from running would be indefinite. I knew I had to do something to cure my funk, and my usual therapy of running--even in the pool--was obviously out of the question.

This picture (of unbaked biscotti logs) represents what I felt like before I made the biscotti.

What cures an ailing heart like a big messy baking project? Especially when I was baking as a consolation gift for my dear brother who lost his car keys and killed his phone. Life sucks, Jed, but I made you some biscotti in the depths of my unhappiness. I hope that eating it brings you joy just as baking it brought me joy. (Also, eating many freshly baked biscotti on Friday brought me joy as well.)

Nutella Biscotti

from: Baking Bites

2 ¼ cups all purpose flour
2 tbsp cocoa
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
3 large eggs
1 cup sugar
½ cup nutella
½ cup chocolate chips
½ cup hazelnuts (optional--I used almonds)

Preheat oven to 350F. Sift together flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a medium bowl. Using an electric mixer, beat eggs in a large bowl until frothy. Add sugar and continue beating on high setting for 2 minutes. Beat in nutella. Add flour mixture to egg mixture and stir until well combined. Stir in chocolate chips and hazelnuts, if using.

Divide dough into 2 or 3 logs with well floured hands and arrange on a parchment lined baking sheet. Press logs into rectangles roughly ½ inch thick. Bake at 350F for 20 minutes. Remove logs from oven. Turn oven down to 300F.

Using a serrated knife, cut logs into 1/3-1/2 inch slices. Arrange on baking sheet and return to oven.
Bake for 10-12 minutes, turn biscotti over and bake an additional 10-12 minutes (depending upon the thickness of your slices). Remove to a wire rack to cool. Store in an airtight container.
Makes 3-4 dozen cookies.

*Okay, to be honest, it's usually elderly people.

**Some events in this blog may or may not have actually happened.

***Some statements in this blog may or may not be exaggerated.

Looks Like I Picked the Wrong Day to Stop Swearing

2010-09-29T11:00:00.000-07:00

After my crazy day last Monday, I thought things could only get easier. This was, of course, wrong. Among the other things that have made my life hectic, I've been particularly forgetful this week.

Here is my weekly litany of the forgotten:
-Rode my bike half a mile to the bus stop. Forgot my bus pass.
-Went to the physical therapist. Forgot my doctor's referral, necessary for the insurance claim.
-Went to a meeting with a professor. Forgot my assigned article and notes.
-Forgot my expensive Sigg water bottle in a classroom in the physical sciences building.
-Rode my bike to the bus stop, put it on the bus, and rode the bus to school. Then I got off the bus and forgot my bike! And let me reassure you that I follow this same bike/bus routine every single day!

I think something is broken in my head. Last Thursday, as I left my professor's office to retrieve said forgotten article and notes, I reached into my backpack to whip out my keys, which are easily spotted attached to a blue lanyard with little yellow dots. Imagine my surprise when I found myself flourishing in the air a pair of pink-dotted blue underwear!* I'm sure he didn't see, but I I know my face showed a look of surprise, horror, and chagrin.

Needless to say, as my life gets more complicated with more things to remember and more expeditions to retrieve forgotten belongings,** I am trying to simplify other parts of life as best I can. Yesterday, I pulled out our enormous crock pot--used previously only once. I hate the idea of crock pots. You just dump a bunch of stuff in and then it's ready to go when you get home from work. There is no imagination or fun in that.

But when I'm not arriving home until 8:45 pm, there isn't a whole lot of time for imagination or fun. Nope, I just want to eat. Plus, during the day I need to devote my precious mental resources to urgent issues--like remembering my bus pass--rather than daydreaming about recipes all the time. So here is an ultimate fix-it-and-forget it recipe for those of us whose brain space and attention capacity are at a premium right now.

Chunky Tomato Soup for the Forgetful

2 30-ounce cans of tomatoes; I used Muir Glen Fire-Roasted tomatoes that I stockpiled once while they were on sale for $1.50--they are kind of pricey, but the taste is worth it
1/2 head of cabbage, shredded
2 1/2 cups of cooked chickpeas (or 1 15-ounce can, drained and rinsed)
1 tablespoon fresh thyme
2 cups of broth or water
1/4 cup dry sherry
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon black pepper

Throw everything into your slow cooker. If the tomatoes are whole, use the back of a spoon to crush them. Cook on low for six hours. Garnish with plain yogurt, cottage cheese, heavy cream, or Parmesan cheese. You can also use a blender to make it smooth rather than chunky. Feel free to make the soup with whatever you need to rid from your fridge and/or pantry--tomato paste or tomato sauce would make it thicker. This would have been good with root vegetables like carrots or rutabaga. I would have also liked to add more herbs. Unfortunately, our basil plant has been eaten by some nasty pest. Oh well. I kept forgetting to water it anyway.

*You may ask why I keep a pair of underwear in my backpack. You'll just have to read my next blog to find out.

**All forgotten belongings have been safely retrieved, even if it meant a half hour in the full Phoenix sun waiting for the bus to turn around and come back, and then enduring the "you are really stupid" look from the bus driver.

Birthday/Apology Earl Grey Tea Cookies

2010-09-24T20:47:00.000-07:00

Did you know that Frodo and Bilbo Baggins share a birthday on September 22? I've known that since I read the Hobbit and the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy in like, fourth grade. (Waay before the movies made them popular, of course.)

Did you also know that my own father's birthday is September 20? I didn't apparently, until my mom emailed me Monday. What? How could you forget your own father's birthday? But wait, I've got a reason: I've always thought that he shared a birthday with Frodo and Bilbo Baggins. I know that he told me this was wrong even when I was young, but for some reason, this piece of information got encoded wrong and I can't seem to relearn the right date.

Usually, my parents mention planning a birthday get-together a few weeks in advance, so I'm safe. But this year I had no idea until I got an email from my mom at 3 pm! I truly had no idea!

Sorry, Dad. I did, however, make some cookies for you. They are doubly purposed as birthday and apology cookies, so I made them doubly awesome by

1) using a cookie press, and
2) putting Earl Grey tea in them.

I found this sweet cookie press at a garage sale, and when the lady told me it was only $3, I knew the stars were aligned and I needed to buy it. In a wave of nostalgia, with a quavering voice, I even told the stranger lady that my dad made pressed cookies every Christmas. Then she had to awkwardly wipe my tears off the dollar bills and I left quickly.

Plus my dad loves bergamot and Earl Grey tea and honestly, it was one of the first tastes that I consciously decided to acquire because my dad liked it and my friends didn't, thus it seemed ultra sophisticated. (My dad's a pretty classy guy... he even uses expensive bergamot shaving soap and collects antique books and stuff.)

Have you ever "decided" to like something to be more sophisticated?

[Note: these cookies are not ideal for a cookie press; they spread out in the oven rather than holding their shape. The pictures are of the seven cookies that actually turned out pretty. I would suggest following the original recipe's instructions for freezing, slicing, and baking.]

Earl Grey Tea Cookies
from: The Kitchn

1 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup confectioners' sugar
1 tablespoon Earl Grey tea leaves*
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon water
1/2 cup unsalted butter

Preheat oven to 375°F. Pulse together all the dry ingredients in a food processor until the tea leaves are pulverized.

Add vanilla, water, and butter. Pulse together until a dough is formed. Form the dough into a log onto a piece of wax or parchment paper. Wrap the paper around and roll the log smooth. Freeze now, or chill for at least 30 minutes.

When chilled, slice the log into 1/3 inch thick pieces. Place on baking sheets and bake until the edges are just brown, about 12 minutes. Let cool on sheets for 5 minutes, then transfer to wire racks.

*One would think that expensive loose leaf tea would be best in this recipe. But I've actually gotten the best flavor with tea from cheap bags that I've ripped open. I think the leaves are more fine and flaky.

Don't Let a National Coffee Franchise Tell You It's Autumn!

2010-09-23T20:47:00.000-07:00

I just love seeing the authentic signs of fall popping up around here lately:

The brilliant foliage. (Seriously, it's creepy how people around here decorate with this stuff.)

The grocery stores bursting with seasonal produce.

The infinite delicious permutations you can cook up using gourds and spices.

Wait, you mean the pumpkin and the spice are just a flavor syrup? You mean Starbucks doesn't lovingly craft its drinks from a pumpkin patch behind the store? Sorry if I make some enemies here, but sometimes I wish there was an autumn grinch who would come and steal all of the pumpkin spice lattes* and cans of Libby's** and fake leaves*** and other mass-produced products so we could experience the "true meaning" of fall.

I'm a bit sad that this is the first year I can't watch the (real) trees turn, wear my fleece jacket in the mornings, watch the corn and soy beans ripen, or even anticipate the first snowfall, but at least I can legitimately celebrate autumn with some (in-season) roasted acorn squash.

What's your favorite sign of fall?

Autumn Spice Roasted Squash

1 acorn squash, halved and seeds removed (substitute any winter squash here, although you may need to adjust amounts of the other ingredients)
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ginger
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1/4 teaspoon allspice
2 teaspoons real maple syrup, divided (or brown sugar or honey--don't use fake syrup)
2 teaspoons olive oil, divided
pinch of sea salt

Preheat oven to 425'. Mix spices and salt in a small bowl. Place squash cut side up on a baking sheet. Drizzle each half with a teaspoon of oil and a teaspoon of maple syrup. Sprinkle the squash with the spice mix. Roast in the oven for 30-50 minutes, (I'm not confident of baking times from my crappy oven) or until the flesh is very tender. (If you can stick a fork in it with little resistance, it's ready.)

Remove squash to rack and allow to cool. When completely cool (or when you decide it's cool enough for your heat-oblivious asbestos hands,) scrape the flesh into a food processor and blend until smooth, adding liquid as needed. (I love it with almond milk.) Alternately, you can just mash it in a bowl with a potato masher or fork. Taste and adjust spices/sweetener as needed.

I also made a minimalist version of this recipe using nothing but squash, spices, and water. The squash was perfectly ripe, which made it ultra sweet, and the flavor was not lacking at all.

*Even though I like to be a Starbuck's hater, I do realize how divinely delicious the PSL is. In fact, last year at this time I was indulging in PSLs handmade by my roommate on her espresso machine. I remember sitting in our living room on a sunny October afternoon after a cross country meet drinking pumpkin spice lattes with my roommates. Sorry, Starbucks, but no corporate-designed ambiance can beat that.

**I always keep a few cans in the pantry because I am so obsessed with cooking with pumpking

***I also have been known to buy fake autumn leaves.

Crazy Day? Easy Recipe!

2010-09-21T22:34:00.000-07:00

Originally, I had a ton of funny stories to tell you about my Monday. But now it's late and I want to go to bed, so I'll just tell you that after a day full of couch surfers arriving, a clogged up dishwasher drain that smelled worse than a port-a-pottie at a cross country meet, a bike flat tire, missing the bus twice, forgetting my dad's birthday, almost getting run over by a truck, almost getting run over by another student on a bike, and accidentally yelling a blog-inappropriate word in the face of said student, I was ready to come back home and relax.

Thankfully I was entertained on the bus ride home by a girl across the aisle giving me a puppet show with her stuffed panda. Did I mention she appeared to be an otherwise-normal sixteen-year-old? And every time I looked up, she was making eye contact with me. She even handed me her panda and told me to press its stomach. I wanted to tell her, "On any other day, I would find this situation weird, but there's really nothing else that could surprise me today."

The best thing about this recipe is that after a long, crazy day, it is incredibly easy to make, plus it only requires one dish.

What's your most recent crazy Monday story?

Baked Shrimp with Tomatillos

from: Simply Recipes

2 Tbsp vegetable oil
1 medium onion, chopped, about 1 cup
1-2 jalapeno chiles, seeded, minced
3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1 lb tomatillos, chopped
Salt
1/2 cup clam juice OR 1/4 cup water
1 lb shrimp, cleaned, deveined
1 cup Cotija queso seco cheese (can substitute feta)
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
Lime juice
Black pepper
An oven-proof sauté pan or cast iron pan

[Ingrid note: First, find your bag of tomatillos. If you've been searching frantically in the fridge for them for the last five minutes, check on the counter, because that's probably where you put them a few moments earlier but have forgotten in your stress-induced amnesia.]

Heat oil in the pan you will use for baking. Add the onions and jalapeños, cook for 5 minutes on medium high until the onions begin to brown. Add the garlic and cook a minute more. Add the tomatillos, reduce heat to medium and cook for 10 minutes, until the tomatillos are cooked through, but still hold their shape. Sprinkle salt over the tomatillos as they are cooking.

If using clam juice, add to pan, turn up the heat and reduce by half. If using water, just add the 1/4 cup of water without reducing.

Add the cheese and shrimp. Cook in a preheated 425°F oven for 10 minutes.

Remove pan from the oven. If using a pan with a handle, such as a cast iron frying pan, I recommend cooling the handle with ice for safety; it's so easy to forget that pan has just come out of the oven, and you grab the hot handle by mistake. Right before serving, mix in the cilantro and sprinkle with lime juice and freshly ground black pepper.

Serves 4.

Kitchen Fail Version 2.0

2010-09-18T07:33:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder who I think I am posting all of these tips, techniques, and instructional commentaries on how to run a kitchen. Even in my little profile box, I say that I am a "disastrous cook." So where are all the disasters?

This is probably my favorite disaster so far. These pictures still make me laugh--is that a piece of driftwood? Maybe a piece of plaster dissembled from one C's art projects? Or perhaps a child's arm?

Although I don't think every disaster merits its own post, let me update you on a few I've had recently:

Overnight yeasted waffles (with bread flour):

I had this genius idea to combine Heidi Swanson's Power Waffles recipe with the Kitchn's Gaufres de Liege recipe. Heidi's recipe used the overnight-yeasted waffle technique, while the Kitchn used bread flour to give the waffles a particular texture. Somehow I didn't consider that the concatenation of these two techniques would be a bad idea. Letting the batter sit overnight allowed the extra gluten in the bread flour to make the batter into a stiff dough. I could barely even cook the waffles through. They were like rocks, which was too bad because I had thought up this great post about how my dad used to make waffles every Saturday and this was my first time making them on my own. Even more tragic, I had planned to have a wonderful romantic breakfast with my husband, serving him beautiful waffles with fresh strawberries. The berries were underripe and bitter, of course.

The expensive and inedible arugula puree:

C wanted me to make this recipe for Pasta with Arugula Puree and Cherry Tomato Sauce. But when I went grocery shopping, the only arugula I could locate was the organic boxed kind--about $5. For 5 ounces of leafy greens? I never spend that much on greens. But this recipe was per sweet husband's request, and there aren't many requests, so I was loathe to start making too many substitutions. Plus, I can justify some trendy arugula for a nice meal once in a while, right?

I don't know what went wrong, but the puree was so salty I almost gagged. I figured I could remedy it by adding some baby spinach I had also purchased. (99 cents for 10 ounces, thank you.) I added probably 15 ounces of baby spinach, plus more nuts, cheese, and oil (all expensive ingredients, thank you), and I barely improved it to edible. We ate one meal with the pasta, cherry tomatoes (delicious) and puree and then the rest of the puree (there was a ton) got tossed. This is one of my more perplexing mistakes because I still have no idea what I did wrong.

And then there's this:

Some sort of fish that I tried to coat with breadcrumbs and herbs, but as I remember, I mixed an egg into the breadcrumbs instead of dredging the fish through the egg and then in the breadcrumbs. What was I thinking? This is so embarrassing to admit. And why did I put tomatoes and green onions and jalapeños into the pan? It tasted alright, but the texture was pretty nasty.

There have been plenty of bad ideas.

Frittata with a pound of green beans and half a bag of frozen corn? And burnt on the bottom? Yes!

White bean hummus with anchovies? On pizza? Delicious! (For the record, C liked the pizza, but not even all of the other yummy pizza toppings could mask the fishy taste to me.)

Oh, and then there's all of my non-kitchen fails like today when I totally wiped out while trail running. I tried to take pictures of the chunks torn from my palms, the bloody abrasion covering my forearm, and the ginormous bruise on my hip, but then I realized posting something like that was just too gross. But my true moment of brilliance was on choosing to wear my new pair of white running shorts. I even briefly thought about that this morning as I grabbed them, then told myself, it's not like I'll be sitting in the dirt or anything.

Nope, no sitting, just laying in that dirt groaning for a few seconds before my pride could stifle the pain enough to get me onto my feet. Good job, Ingrid. Good thing you have an awesome blog where you can talk about all of your awesome kitchen creations and all of your awesome running.

Do you have any infamous kitchen fails and/or epic wipe outs?

Quickles and Other Good Ideas

2010-09-17T18:52:00.000-07:00

The other day, C asked me why I keep my recent grocery receipts on the refrigerator. I tell him that they provide an easy reference for the amount of produce I bought that week. If my recipe calls for a pound of broccoli florets, I would have no idea how much that is; however, if I refer to my receipt, which tells me I bought about 1.68 pounds, I can simply estimate the amount I need from how much I have.

Then he said, That's a really good idea, Ingrid. Did you read it on a blog?
No. I just thought of it.
You should put that on your blog.

So here it is! My receipt-saving tip. And I also keep a list of what's in the freezer. It's easy to remember the ice cream cartons, maybe not so easy to remember that extra eggplant I roasted for next time I want to make Aubergine Caviar.

When I prep food, especially chopping veggies, I always keep a bowl next to me where I can easily toss food scraps. It's a lot neater than picking up onion peel and zucchini ends from all over the counter after I'm done, and it saves time from going to the trash each time I chop another vegetable.

I love to roast vegetables. Cut them up, toss with olive oil, sea salt, and fresh pepper, and spread in one layer on a baking pan. Bake at about 450' for 20-50 minutes, depending on the tenderness of the veggies. The heat of roasting converts much of the vegetable starches to sugar, which gives that familiar sweet flavor. Many times when I roast a pan or two of veggies, I'll add a whole, unpeeled head of garlic and leave it in for at least 40 minutes. Longer doesn't hurt. When cooked and cooled, simply cut the head open cross-wise and squeeze out the soft garlic pulp into a container. You can use it in place of garlic in just about any recipe, but it works especially well in recipes with raw garlic--the roasting takes away the harsh edge of raw garlic and again, makes it sweeter.

Here's a brilliant one that was actually C's idea: quick + pickles = quickles. Oh yeah. (The cheesey name was my idea, of course.) Now, if you're into pickling, preserving, and canning at all, this probably seems a little like a cheap cop-out. However, if you find yourself with too many cucumbers cluttering your crisper, as well as an empty jar of pickle juice, this is perfect. Just peel and slice your cukes and pop them into the leftover juice. After about a day, your cucumber slices will reemerge from the jar as tasty quickles!

This could also be a good idea if you just finished a jar of expensive artisan pickles that were the most delicious ever and you hate to just pour that gorgeous pickle juice down the drain.

What do you do with leftover pickle juice?