I like older recipes that you can dress up and get creative with, much like the "Take ordinary, typically bad food and make something special" challenges on Top Chef. I was fiddling around with a few ideas one day, and found myself looking at green bean casserole. The idea was good: beans and onions, with some mushrooms and a little crunch. I remained unsatisfied with my makeover efforts, though, until I discovered a recipe online for a take on green bean casserole that looked like it had possibilities. Still, I wouldn't be me if I didn't love to fiddle with peoples' perfectly good recipes, so I altered it a little, tossed in some cheese on a whim, cut the chopping time by using frozen beans, that sort of thing. And here it is, the green bean casserole that's fancy enough for me to make on Christmas.
Gourmet Green Bean Casserole
1 1/2 lbs green beans, frozen
3 cloves garlic
1/2 lb (8 oz) baby bella mushrooms (shitake work also)
1 SMALL pinch ancho chile powder
3/4 cup chicken stock (broth works also)
2 tbsp flour
1 tbsp dry sherry or white wine
1/2 cup whipping cream
1/4 cup Jarlsberg cheese, finely grated (gruyere works also)
1 1/2 slices whole wheat bread
1/2 can french fried onions
1 tbsp margerine or butter substitute
Salt
Pepper
Preheat oven to 400F.
Begin by boiling a pot of water with 1 tbsp salt in it. I know, it seems like a lot, but it's right, trust me. The beans don't absorb much, so don't be shy. Add the frozen beans when the water boils, then bring the pot back to a boil and let the beans cook for 5-10 minutes until they're tender but not wilting. Drain in a colander and run cool water over them to stop the cooking process, then let them sit while you finish the rest of the recipe.
Wash your mushrooms and tear them into pieces (tearing gives a nice textural contrast to the machine-sliced 'shrooms in canned casseroles). Throw them in a pan with a teeny dash of olive oil, and let them saute over medium-high heat while you dice your garlic. Add the garlic to the pan when you get done with it, along with a little salt, some pepper, and the pinch of chile powder.
While the mushrooms are cooking, whisk the flour into your chicken stock, making sure there are no lumps. When the mushrooms are golden brown and beginning to render their juices, add the stock to the pan along with the sherry or wine. Turn the heat on the burner down to medium and stir until the sauce thickens (this should happen pretty quickly, so keep an eye on it). When it's thick, add the cream and the Jarlsberg to the pan and stir to mix. Stir occasionally until this mixture thickens.
When you've got a nice thick cream sauce, add the beans into the pan and mix the whole thing together. Sit the pan off the heat for a moment while you make the topping.
To make the topping, pulse the bread and the margerine together in a food processor until it turns into moist little crumbs. Dump these out into a bowl, and add the fried onions to them, then use your hands to mix the onions and bread crumbs together.
To assemble the whole casserole, get a medium-large casserole dish and pour in the bean-mushroom mixture from the pan, spreading it into an even layer. Sprinkle the breadcrumb-onion mix on evenly top. Bake at 400F for 15 minutes. Keep an eye on this, and take the casserole out when the topping turns a deep golden brown, but before it burns. Serve immediately.
Servings: 8-10.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Chicken noodle soup
I had roasted a chicken, and had plenty of left-over chicken bits that I needed to do something with. To be precise, I had half a breast, a thigh, a wing, and a leg. The obvious solution was to make chicken soup.
This is best if you think a little bit ahead of time when you're prepping your chicken. If you're sectioning the chicken (I always do a ten-piece section, but to each his own), take the backbone and giblets and boil them in a large pot of water with some veggie bits (save the ends of your leeks, maybe toss in some baby carrots, whatever you've got and don't really need) and spices for a couple of hours to make stock. That will save you money, since you won't have to buy stock, and it'll taste better anyway. If you aren't sectioning your chicken, just use boxed stock.
What type of noodles you use is also up to you. I used the 'dumpling' noodles that come in large bags, since they were on sale. But any type of pasta is good, so just throw in whatever you've got on hand.
Chicken Noodle Soup
1/2 medium sweet onion (or 1/4 large onion), diced
2 tbsp unsalted butter
1 leek
15-30 baby carrots, sliced into little circles
2 ribs celery, diced
Chicken, torn into bit-sized chunks (I never measure how much chicken I use, since it's mainly determined by how much I've got left over. It doesn't really matter, just use what you've got)
Stock (Again, I never measure this, since it's mainly determined by whether I made stock when I sectioned the chicken. Just have enough to fill the pot to a comfortable level, about 2 qts)
1 cube chicken boullion
Fresh thyme and oregano, wrapped together into a little sachet
1/2 tsp ground sage
Noodles
Begin by melting the butter over medium heat in a large soup pot. When it's melted, add the onion, and let the onion soften for 5 minutes or so. While the onion is cooking, slice the leek by cutting off the end and the dark leaves, then slicing it length-wise once and into 1/4 inch thick semicircles. When the onion has turned translucent and is right on the edge starting to caramelize, add the leek and stir until the leek has softened up.
When the onion and leek are done, add your stock to the pot and dump in your chicken and carrots. Add your spice sachet (I sometimes just use a twist-tie to make a little bundle, if I'm out of cheesecloth) and the two boullion cubes. The boullion is in fact optional, but I find it gives a little more dimension to the stock.
Bring the pot to a boil, and then cover it and reduce the heat on the burner to low to let it simmer for 30-45 minutes. More time won't hurt it, but I wouldn't try to do this any quicker. The soup tastes better when it has time for its flavors to meld.
Ten minutes before you intend to serve it, boil the pasta in salted water. It's important that you only add the noodles to the soup right before you serve it, otherwise they get soggy and lose their texture. If you intend to keep the soup for several days and serve leftovers, just keep the noodles in a separate container of their own, and pick out a handful to add to your bowls just before you rewarm the soup. Remove and discard the herb sachet, then serve with crusty bread.
Servings: Variable, depending on how much of the chicken, stock, and noodles you use. I usually do large batches that are about 12 servings, but it could easily be cut to 4 or 6.
This is best if you think a little bit ahead of time when you're prepping your chicken. If you're sectioning the chicken (I always do a ten-piece section, but to each his own), take the backbone and giblets and boil them in a large pot of water with some veggie bits (save the ends of your leeks, maybe toss in some baby carrots, whatever you've got and don't really need) and spices for a couple of hours to make stock. That will save you money, since you won't have to buy stock, and it'll taste better anyway. If you aren't sectioning your chicken, just use boxed stock.
What type of noodles you use is also up to you. I used the 'dumpling' noodles that come in large bags, since they were on sale. But any type of pasta is good, so just throw in whatever you've got on hand.
Chicken Noodle Soup
1/2 medium sweet onion (or 1/4 large onion), diced
2 tbsp unsalted butter
1 leek
15-30 baby carrots, sliced into little circles
2 ribs celery, diced
Chicken, torn into bit-sized chunks (I never measure how much chicken I use, since it's mainly determined by how much I've got left over. It doesn't really matter, just use what you've got)
Stock (Again, I never measure this, since it's mainly determined by whether I made stock when I sectioned the chicken. Just have enough to fill the pot to a comfortable level, about 2 qts)
1 cube chicken boullion
Fresh thyme and oregano, wrapped together into a little sachet
1/2 tsp ground sage
Noodles
Begin by melting the butter over medium heat in a large soup pot. When it's melted, add the onion, and let the onion soften for 5 minutes or so. While the onion is cooking, slice the leek by cutting off the end and the dark leaves, then slicing it length-wise once and into 1/4 inch thick semicircles. When the onion has turned translucent and is right on the edge starting to caramelize, add the leek and stir until the leek has softened up.
When the onion and leek are done, add your stock to the pot and dump in your chicken and carrots. Add your spice sachet (I sometimes just use a twist-tie to make a little bundle, if I'm out of cheesecloth) and the two boullion cubes. The boullion is in fact optional, but I find it gives a little more dimension to the stock.
Bring the pot to a boil, and then cover it and reduce the heat on the burner to low to let it simmer for 30-45 minutes. More time won't hurt it, but I wouldn't try to do this any quicker. The soup tastes better when it has time for its flavors to meld.
Ten minutes before you intend to serve it, boil the pasta in salted water. It's important that you only add the noodles to the soup right before you serve it, otherwise they get soggy and lose their texture. If you intend to keep the soup for several days and serve leftovers, just keep the noodles in a separate container of their own, and pick out a handful to add to your bowls just before you rewarm the soup. Remove and discard the herb sachet, then serve with crusty bread.
Servings: Variable, depending on how much of the chicken, stock, and noodles you use. I usually do large batches that are about 12 servings, but it could easily be cut to 4 or 6.
Low-cal Spaghetti Bolognese
I've been cutting back on calories lately, which has affected my cooking output. I've been making a lot of ultra low-cal food in fairly large batches, which means I don't get to try new things as often as I might like.
Part of eating low-cal, for me at least, has been finding ways to adapt my kitchen staples to my desire to eat healthier. This recipe is good example. It was actually born out of thrift rather than a need to cut calories. I was shopping for the stuff to make spaghetti sauce, since I was having my nephews over and I know spaghetti is something they'll eat (they're very picky). Ground beef has been getting so expensive lately, though, and on that day it was over $3.50 for the low-fat kind, for less than a pound of meat! Ridiculous. I noticed, though, that the ground turkey was $2.75 for a pound and a quarter, and I remembered those fabulous turkey meatballs I discovered a few months ago. Clearly the gods intended for me to use ground turkey instead of ground beef.
Thus this recipe, which combines some stuff I had laying around in my pantry and fridge with the turkey to produce a spaghetti sauce that would make my mother proud. It doesn't give up an ounce of taste to my usual spaghetti recipe, but it gives up about 300 calories. And that's enough for a guiltless cookie after dinner! Practical cooking at its best.
Low-cal Spaghetti Bolognese
1.25 lbs ground turkey
1/2 medium sweet onion (or 1/4 of a large one), diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 15 oz can stewed tomatoes
1 small can tomato paste
Chicken stock (or veggie, or even beef, whichever floats your boat)
7-8ish mushrooms, sliced
2 stalks fresh oregano, chopped
1 stalk fresh rosemary, chopped
Pepper
I do this whole recipe in an electric frying pan, and it turns out to be the only thing I have to wash. You could probably do it in a large saucepan over a stovetop just as easily though. Just make sure the saucepan has a lid or something to cover it, so that it doesn't lose too much moisture while it simmers.
Start by dumping the ground turkey into the frying pan, and turning it on to 300F. Let the turkey get a pretty decent start on cooking, and use a spatula to stir it around and break it up into bite-sized chunks as it cooks. You can dice your onion and mince your garlic while this is going on, just keep an eye on the turkey as you do to make sure it doesn't stick to the pan. When the turkey starts to render what little fat it contains, dump in your diced onions and garlic. Stir the onions and the meat around while the meat finishes cooking and the onion softens to translucent. It should smell really good.
When the meat is done all the way through and the onion is translucent, dump in the whole can of stewed tomatoes, juices and all. Use your spatula to chop the tomatoes up into smallish pieces (they come whole in the can, and you want them to be bite-sized). Don't trash the can that the tomatoes came in, instead fill it half up with whatever stock you're using and add that to the mix. Next dump in the can of tomato paste, and stir the whole thing around for a few minutes. The tomato paste should initially be very thick in an otherwise watery mixture, but as you stir, it should combine more thoroughly to form a still-slightly-watery mixture. Cover this, turn the pan down to a simmer, and let it sit for a minute while you wash and slice your mushrooms, and chop your spices. Just dump those into the pan as soon as you get them done, so the mushrooms can begin to soften and the spices can start to assimilate more harmoniously into the mix. Stir everything once more to make sure the spices are evenly distributed.
Taste the mixture when you've added everything, and season with pepper as appropriate. It shouldn't need salt (at least, I don't think it does), which keeps it fairly low-sodium as well. Re-cover your pan and let it simmer for between 30 and 45 minutes. Towards the end of the simmering period, dump some pasta into a pot of salted boiling water so you'll have something to put the sauce on. Ten minutes before you intend to eat it, check the sauce. It should have thickened up, but if it's still a little watery you can leave the lid off the pan for the last ten minutes of simmering, which should bring the texture up to par.
Serve hot on top of pasta. Whole wheat pasta goes especially well with this, since it continues the healthy theme and tastes better than refined-flour pasta anyway.
Servings: 6-8, or as many as 10 if you're me and don't eat much per serving.
Part of eating low-cal, for me at least, has been finding ways to adapt my kitchen staples to my desire to eat healthier. This recipe is good example. It was actually born out of thrift rather than a need to cut calories. I was shopping for the stuff to make spaghetti sauce, since I was having my nephews over and I know spaghetti is something they'll eat (they're very picky). Ground beef has been getting so expensive lately, though, and on that day it was over $3.50 for the low-fat kind, for less than a pound of meat! Ridiculous. I noticed, though, that the ground turkey was $2.75 for a pound and a quarter, and I remembered those fabulous turkey meatballs I discovered a few months ago. Clearly the gods intended for me to use ground turkey instead of ground beef.
Thus this recipe, which combines some stuff I had laying around in my pantry and fridge with the turkey to produce a spaghetti sauce that would make my mother proud. It doesn't give up an ounce of taste to my usual spaghetti recipe, but it gives up about 300 calories. And that's enough for a guiltless cookie after dinner! Practical cooking at its best.
Low-cal Spaghetti Bolognese
1.25 lbs ground turkey
1/2 medium sweet onion (or 1/4 of a large one), diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 15 oz can stewed tomatoes
1 small can tomato paste
Chicken stock (or veggie, or even beef, whichever floats your boat)
7-8ish mushrooms, sliced
2 stalks fresh oregano, chopped
1 stalk fresh rosemary, chopped
Pepper
I do this whole recipe in an electric frying pan, and it turns out to be the only thing I have to wash. You could probably do it in a large saucepan over a stovetop just as easily though. Just make sure the saucepan has a lid or something to cover it, so that it doesn't lose too much moisture while it simmers.
Start by dumping the ground turkey into the frying pan, and turning it on to 300F. Let the turkey get a pretty decent start on cooking, and use a spatula to stir it around and break it up into bite-sized chunks as it cooks. You can dice your onion and mince your garlic while this is going on, just keep an eye on the turkey as you do to make sure it doesn't stick to the pan. When the turkey starts to render what little fat it contains, dump in your diced onions and garlic. Stir the onions and the meat around while the meat finishes cooking and the onion softens to translucent. It should smell really good.
When the meat is done all the way through and the onion is translucent, dump in the whole can of stewed tomatoes, juices and all. Use your spatula to chop the tomatoes up into smallish pieces (they come whole in the can, and you want them to be bite-sized). Don't trash the can that the tomatoes came in, instead fill it half up with whatever stock you're using and add that to the mix. Next dump in the can of tomato paste, and stir the whole thing around for a few minutes. The tomato paste should initially be very thick in an otherwise watery mixture, but as you stir, it should combine more thoroughly to form a still-slightly-watery mixture. Cover this, turn the pan down to a simmer, and let it sit for a minute while you wash and slice your mushrooms, and chop your spices. Just dump those into the pan as soon as you get them done, so the mushrooms can begin to soften and the spices can start to assimilate more harmoniously into the mix. Stir everything once more to make sure the spices are evenly distributed.
Taste the mixture when you've added everything, and season with pepper as appropriate. It shouldn't need salt (at least, I don't think it does), which keeps it fairly low-sodium as well. Re-cover your pan and let it simmer for between 30 and 45 minutes. Towards the end of the simmering period, dump some pasta into a pot of salted boiling water so you'll have something to put the sauce on. Ten minutes before you intend to eat it, check the sauce. It should have thickened up, but if it's still a little watery you can leave the lid off the pan for the last ten minutes of simmering, which should bring the texture up to par.
Serve hot on top of pasta. Whole wheat pasta goes especially well with this, since it continues the healthy theme and tastes better than refined-flour pasta anyway.
Servings: 6-8, or as many as 10 if you're me and don't eat much per serving.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Meat and Mushrooms
This is a good way to dress up cheap meat cuts. It's another of those recipes that came together when I discovered a few ingredients in my kitchen, and needed a way to use them. In this case, I had a package of cube steak in my freezer, and some mushrooms in the crisper that needed to be eaten before too many more days passed. Sounded like the perfect start to a meal. Add pasta, onion, garlic, some herbs, and a nice sauce, and viola, supper.
This doesn't take as long as I thought it might, so it's not bad for weeknights, but it's nice enough that I would serve it to company without blinking twice. It's also pretty forgiving: you could probably use just about any cut of beef and it would work fine. I would recommend hamburger steaks if that's what you've got on hand, or you could dress it up by using one of the nicer cuts. I bet you could even use NY strips and melt some provolone over the top for a neat date night meal that wouldn't require much stress.
Steak and Mushrooms
1/2 lb pasta (it doesn't really matter what pasta you use here. I used vermicelli, but to each her own)
3 tbsp olive oil
1 lb cube steak (Or whatever beef cut you've got on hand. This would probably even work with chicken.)
1/2 vidalia onion
3 cloves garlic
1/2 lb (8 oz) mushrooms
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 1/2 tsp worchestershire sauce
1/2 cup beef stock plus 1 tbsp beef stock, separate
1 tsp cornstarch
Optional: fresh-cut rosemary and thyme
Salt
Pepper
Begin boiling water for the pasta. When the water boils, add a dash of salt and the pasta to it. Keep and eye on this while you're doing the other things, and drain the pasta when it's cooked to al dente.
Start by cooking the meat as appropriate for whatever cut you're using. Salt and pepper the meat on both sides. Pour in 1 1/2 tbsp olive oil, and lay your cube steaks in a pan over medium-high heat. Turn after 3-4 minutes, and cook the other side until they're done. If you're not using cube steaks, cook whatever meat you're using until it's appropriately done. Remove the meat from the pan to a plate, and let it sit for a while to absorb its own juices.
While the meat is cooking, dice the onion and mince the garlic. Wash the mushrooms, and slice them into 1/4 inch thick slices. When the meat has been removed from the pan, add the onion and garlic, and cook until the onion is lightly browned. If you need more olive oil to keep the onion from sticking, add more, but be sparing. You probably won't need the whole 3 tbsp I've allotted. You may need to turn the heat down a little to keep things from cooking too quickly here, you want this to go slowly enough that the mushrooms will have time to saute before the onions caramelize to a pulp.
When the onion is slightly browned and the garlic has begun to turn translucent, add the mushrooms and let the whole thing cook for a while. When the mushrooms have sauted themselves soft, add the balsamic vinegar and let that cook for a minute or so to get the strong vinegary taste out. Then add the worchestershire sauce, and 1/2 cup of the beef stock. Stir, and let the whole thing simmer. If you're using the rosemary and thyme, chop those finely and add them now. Add the meat back into the pan with the sauce, as well as any juices that might have seeped out as the meat was settling, so that the meat can start to absorb some of the flavour of the sauce.
In a separate cup, mix the remaining tbsp of beef stock and the tsp of corstarch together, then add those to the pan with the mushroom mixture. Let the sauce simmer for another 3 minutes or so, to mix everything together and give the starch a chance to thicken it a little. Taste it, and add salt and pepper as appropriate. Serve over the pasta.
Servings: 4-6
This doesn't take as long as I thought it might, so it's not bad for weeknights, but it's nice enough that I would serve it to company without blinking twice. It's also pretty forgiving: you could probably use just about any cut of beef and it would work fine. I would recommend hamburger steaks if that's what you've got on hand, or you could dress it up by using one of the nicer cuts. I bet you could even use NY strips and melt some provolone over the top for a neat date night meal that wouldn't require much stress.
Steak and Mushrooms
1/2 lb pasta (it doesn't really matter what pasta you use here. I used vermicelli, but to each her own)
3 tbsp olive oil
1 lb cube steak (Or whatever beef cut you've got on hand. This would probably even work with chicken.)
1/2 vidalia onion
3 cloves garlic
1/2 lb (8 oz) mushrooms
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 1/2 tsp worchestershire sauce
1/2 cup beef stock plus 1 tbsp beef stock, separate
1 tsp cornstarch
Optional: fresh-cut rosemary and thyme
Salt
Pepper
Begin boiling water for the pasta. When the water boils, add a dash of salt and the pasta to it. Keep and eye on this while you're doing the other things, and drain the pasta when it's cooked to al dente.
Start by cooking the meat as appropriate for whatever cut you're using. Salt and pepper the meat on both sides. Pour in 1 1/2 tbsp olive oil, and lay your cube steaks in a pan over medium-high heat. Turn after 3-4 minutes, and cook the other side until they're done. If you're not using cube steaks, cook whatever meat you're using until it's appropriately done. Remove the meat from the pan to a plate, and let it sit for a while to absorb its own juices.
While the meat is cooking, dice the onion and mince the garlic. Wash the mushrooms, and slice them into 1/4 inch thick slices. When the meat has been removed from the pan, add the onion and garlic, and cook until the onion is lightly browned. If you need more olive oil to keep the onion from sticking, add more, but be sparing. You probably won't need the whole 3 tbsp I've allotted. You may need to turn the heat down a little to keep things from cooking too quickly here, you want this to go slowly enough that the mushrooms will have time to saute before the onions caramelize to a pulp.
When the onion is slightly browned and the garlic has begun to turn translucent, add the mushrooms and let the whole thing cook for a while. When the mushrooms have sauted themselves soft, add the balsamic vinegar and let that cook for a minute or so to get the strong vinegary taste out. Then add the worchestershire sauce, and 1/2 cup of the beef stock. Stir, and let the whole thing simmer. If you're using the rosemary and thyme, chop those finely and add them now. Add the meat back into the pan with the sauce, as well as any juices that might have seeped out as the meat was settling, so that the meat can start to absorb some of the flavour of the sauce.
In a separate cup, mix the remaining tbsp of beef stock and the tsp of corstarch together, then add those to the pan with the mushroom mixture. Let the sauce simmer for another 3 minutes or so, to mix everything together and give the starch a chance to thicken it a little. Taste it, and add salt and pepper as appropriate. Serve over the pasta.
Servings: 4-6
Friday, July 11, 2008
Grandma's Teacakes
When I first started this blog, a few months ago, one of the first recipes was my Grandmother's take on Carrot Cake. Well, this recipe is from my other grandmother, the one on my dad's side.
When she was much, much younger, my dad's mother actually ran a bakery out of her home. She catered events in the small town they lived in, and people would come by their house to buy all sorts of baked goods. The front door on the house actually opened into the kitchen, so the front of the house doubled as her storefront.
By the time I was born, Grandma was far too old to still be baking, but people still talked about her legendary potato salads and pound cakes. My father's favorite recipe was her teacakes, a cookie that was very soft, almost pillowy, and only barely sweet. The recipe to these cookies had been lost, and when I was young my mother tried all sorts of recipes to try and approximate the storied teacakes, but none measured up to what my father remembered. They were all too crunchy, or too sweet, or doughy instead of soft.
It wasn't until we cleaned out her old house after my Grandfather's (her husband's) death that we found the recipe. It was on a card, tucked away on a high shelf under an unused flour container. My mother made the recipe to try it, and it turns out these cookies deserved every bit of their reputation for being addictive. The barely-sweet nature encourages you to eat lots of them because hey, it can't be that much sugar, right? And truth be told, I've never felt guilty about gobbling these. I keep some frozen for when I get cravings, or when my nightly tea just won't be complete without a little something special. I think that in a lot of ways, I like these better than chocolate, and that's saying something!
Grandma's Teacakes
1 1/2 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 tbsp unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup sugar
1 large egg
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp lemon
1/3 cup buttermilk
Preheat the oven to 350F.
Whisk the dry ingredients (flour, salt, baking soda) together and set that bowl aside. Using a mixer and a large mixing bowl, cream the butter. Add the sugar, and beat that in until the mixture forms pale yellow, curd-like lumps and you can no longer see free standing sugar in the bottom of the bowl. Add the egg, and beat that in. Add the vanilla and the lemon juice, and beat some more. Add about 1/3 of the flour, and mix until that's incorporated. Add half the buttermilk, and beat that in. Add the second 1/3 of the flour, and beat. Add the rest of the buttermilk, beat, then add the rest of the flour and mix the whole thing for a minute or so to make sure it's creamy. At this point, the batter should be pale, smooth, and fairly soft.
Cover a baking sheet with parchment, and use a tbsp to drop cookies onto the sheet, about 2-3 inches apart (these will spread quite a bit). I can usually fit 12 cookies onto a standard size baking sheet, in four rows of three. Bake for 11-15 minutes, until the bottom edge of the cookie has just begun to turn brown. Do not be tempted to leave these in until the tops of the cookies brown. The tops should be very pale, and the bottom edge of the cookies should have just a very fine rim of brown. When this happens, remove the cookie sheet from the oven and let it sit for two minutes, then remove the cookies to a cooling rack to finish their cooling process. Repeat the cooking process with another cookie sheet, until you've used up all the batter (this recipe usually is perfect for two sheets with me).
These cookies are best eaten almost as soon as they're out of the oven, when they're warm and pillow-soft and amazing. They stay amazing for one day, and are perfectly fine the day after, but too much longer and they start to lose their delightfully soft texture. So if you don't plan to eat them pretty quickly, just stick them in the freezer. They never take long to thaw (five minutes, less if you've got a toaster oven), so that way you can have them whenever you want.
Servings: 20 - 25 cookies. It usually makes exactly 24 for me.
When she was much, much younger, my dad's mother actually ran a bakery out of her home. She catered events in the small town they lived in, and people would come by their house to buy all sorts of baked goods. The front door on the house actually opened into the kitchen, so the front of the house doubled as her storefront.
By the time I was born, Grandma was far too old to still be baking, but people still talked about her legendary potato salads and pound cakes. My father's favorite recipe was her teacakes, a cookie that was very soft, almost pillowy, and only barely sweet. The recipe to these cookies had been lost, and when I was young my mother tried all sorts of recipes to try and approximate the storied teacakes, but none measured up to what my father remembered. They were all too crunchy, or too sweet, or doughy instead of soft.
It wasn't until we cleaned out her old house after my Grandfather's (her husband's) death that we found the recipe. It was on a card, tucked away on a high shelf under an unused flour container. My mother made the recipe to try it, and it turns out these cookies deserved every bit of their reputation for being addictive. The barely-sweet nature encourages you to eat lots of them because hey, it can't be that much sugar, right? And truth be told, I've never felt guilty about gobbling these. I keep some frozen for when I get cravings, or when my nightly tea just won't be complete without a little something special. I think that in a lot of ways, I like these better than chocolate, and that's saying something!
Grandma's Teacakes
1 1/2 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 tbsp unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup sugar
1 large egg
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp lemon
1/3 cup buttermilk
Preheat the oven to 350F.
Whisk the dry ingredients (flour, salt, baking soda) together and set that bowl aside. Using a mixer and a large mixing bowl, cream the butter. Add the sugar, and beat that in until the mixture forms pale yellow, curd-like lumps and you can no longer see free standing sugar in the bottom of the bowl. Add the egg, and beat that in. Add the vanilla and the lemon juice, and beat some more. Add about 1/3 of the flour, and mix until that's incorporated. Add half the buttermilk, and beat that in. Add the second 1/3 of the flour, and beat. Add the rest of the buttermilk, beat, then add the rest of the flour and mix the whole thing for a minute or so to make sure it's creamy. At this point, the batter should be pale, smooth, and fairly soft.
Cover a baking sheet with parchment, and use a tbsp to drop cookies onto the sheet, about 2-3 inches apart (these will spread quite a bit). I can usually fit 12 cookies onto a standard size baking sheet, in four rows of three. Bake for 11-15 minutes, until the bottom edge of the cookie has just begun to turn brown. Do not be tempted to leave these in until the tops of the cookies brown. The tops should be very pale, and the bottom edge of the cookies should have just a very fine rim of brown. When this happens, remove the cookie sheet from the oven and let it sit for two minutes, then remove the cookies to a cooling rack to finish their cooling process. Repeat the cooking process with another cookie sheet, until you've used up all the batter (this recipe usually is perfect for two sheets with me).
These cookies are best eaten almost as soon as they're out of the oven, when they're warm and pillow-soft and amazing. They stay amazing for one day, and are perfectly fine the day after, but too much longer and they start to lose their delightfully soft texture. So if you don't plan to eat them pretty quickly, just stick them in the freezer. They never take long to thaw (five minutes, less if you've got a toaster oven), so that way you can have them whenever you want.
Servings: 20 - 25 cookies. It usually makes exactly 24 for me.
Artichoke Pasta Florentine
Florentine. Doesn't it sound sophisticated? As though maybe it's the sort of pasta one would eat in cathedrals, while making erudite comments about frescoes. It doesn't sound at all like a dish that you could throw together in fifteen minutes on a weeknight, when you've only got half an hour to eat in between a job and a class.
This is about as simple as it gets, but it will fill you up, it's ridiculously cheap, and it's fast. In short, this is the kind of dinner that you eat when fancy roasts have come and gone, when soups and braises are too time-consuming, and when all you need is food that isn't going to demand any thought. Plus, it tastes good, and is reasonably healthy. I say it's a win all around.
Artichoke Pasta Florentine
1/4 lb short-cut pasta (I like penne rigate)
1/8 lb spinach (my grocery sells 1/4 bags, so I just use half a bag)
1 can of tinned artichoke hearts, drained (get the kind tinned in water if you can, I find they saute better)
1 tbsp unsalted butter
Salt
Parmesan (I like shaved, but if grated is all you can get, go for that)
Begin by bringing a pot of water to a boil. Add the pasta and salt the water, then let it boil for 10 minutes or so.
While your water is boiling, chop your artichoke hearts into quarters or eights. In a large saucepan, melt the butter over medium-high heat and drop in the artichokes. Cook them for 5-7 minutes, until they acquire a lovely golden-brown sear on their bottom side (you can turn them if they sear too quickly. Both sides seared tastes better anyway, so go for it). They should smell really good during this process, all buttery and rich. When the artichokes are lovely and golden, dump in the spinach and remove the saucepan from the heat. The pasta should be about done by this point, so drain the pasta while the spinach wilts. Dump the pasta into the saucepan and stir everything together to mix it thoroughly. Sprinkle the whole thing generously with shaved parmesan (seriously, be generous with the cheese!). Stir again, to let the cheese get mixed in and melted around the pasta. Serve immediately, while the cheese is still stringy.
Servings: 4-6
This is about as simple as it gets, but it will fill you up, it's ridiculously cheap, and it's fast. In short, this is the kind of dinner that you eat when fancy roasts have come and gone, when soups and braises are too time-consuming, and when all you need is food that isn't going to demand any thought. Plus, it tastes good, and is reasonably healthy. I say it's a win all around.
Artichoke Pasta Florentine
1/4 lb short-cut pasta (I like penne rigate)
1/8 lb spinach (my grocery sells 1/4 bags, so I just use half a bag)
1 can of tinned artichoke hearts, drained (get the kind tinned in water if you can, I find they saute better)
1 tbsp unsalted butter
Salt
Parmesan (I like shaved, but if grated is all you can get, go for that)
Begin by bringing a pot of water to a boil. Add the pasta and salt the water, then let it boil for 10 minutes or so.
While your water is boiling, chop your artichoke hearts into quarters or eights. In a large saucepan, melt the butter over medium-high heat and drop in the artichokes. Cook them for 5-7 minutes, until they acquire a lovely golden-brown sear on their bottom side (you can turn them if they sear too quickly. Both sides seared tastes better anyway, so go for it). They should smell really good during this process, all buttery and rich. When the artichokes are lovely and golden, dump in the spinach and remove the saucepan from the heat. The pasta should be about done by this point, so drain the pasta while the spinach wilts. Dump the pasta into the saucepan and stir everything together to mix it thoroughly. Sprinkle the whole thing generously with shaved parmesan (seriously, be generous with the cheese!). Stir again, to let the cheese get mixed in and melted around the pasta. Serve immediately, while the cheese is still stringy.
Servings: 4-6
Rutabaga-Leek Soup
It's been a long time since I posted a soup recipe, and if I recall correctly, the last time I extolled the virtues of unappreciated root vegetables. This is another one of those soups. The flavour is buttery and smooth, sort of like a good veggie stock's grown up cousin, but a bowl won't leave you feeling like there's a stone in your stomach.
You see, it's ninety-five degrees where I live now, and I am not in the mood for some wintery soup. So this one is lighter, and takes advantage of the snappy flavour of fresh leeks to add a bit of a twist. It's comfort food for when comfort food needs a lighter edge, like those days when you just feel the need to do something good for your body. I'm really kind of in love.
(Bonus! With food prices so ridiculous these days, underappreciated veggies tend to be cheap, because groceries want to get rid of them. So it's also cost-effective!)
(Extra-Bonus! It only uses one pot total, so the clean up takes about two minutes, and less if you've got a dishwasher!)
Rutabaga-Leek Soup
1 rutabaga, peeled (I find a vegetable peeler works best for this, but some people use paring knives)
1/2 small onion, or 1/4 medium one
3 large leeks, or 4 medium ones
3 tbsp unsalted butter
1 1/2 qts chicken stock
1 beef bouillon cube
1 can black beans, drained (I like Bush's)
6 stalks fresh thyme
2 stalks fresh oregano
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Begin by cutting your rutabaga into 1 inch cubes. These are supposed to be kind of rustic, so don't waste time with perfect knife work. Dump the rutabaga into a soup pot (which should be very large) about 1/3 full of boiling water, and add a small palmful of salt. Reduce the heat until the rutabaga is just barely boiling (on my stove this is medium-high), and cook for 10-15 minutes, or until the rutabaga is soft. When it's finished, drain it and let it sit until you need it.
While the rutabaga is boiling, chop your onion, then chop your leeks. Begin by cutting off the dark green leaves, and the very tip of the white end (the bit with the tentacle-ish roots). Wash your leeks thoroughly (this is very important, as leeks can contain dirt, and that's gross), then cut them in half lengthwise. Chop both halves into 1/4 inch thick semi-circles.
When the rutabaga is finished boiling and has been drained, rinse out the soup pot and return it to the burner. Lower the heat to medium and melt the butter, then drop in the onions. When the onions are soft and translucent, add the leeks and stir to coat them in butter. If you end up with too many leeks to coat sufficiently in butter, add a dash of olive oil to make sure they don't wind up sticking to the pot. Cook the leeks, stirring often, until they've softened and gone limp.
Add your chicken stock to the soup pot on top of the leeks. Dump in the rutabaga and stir, then dump in the drained beans and stir some more. Your soup should be substantial, but not overcrowded. You can add more stock if necessary; this is kind of an eyeball-it judgment. Add your herbs by just dropping in the whole stalk. You get the best flavour this way, and you can fish out the stalks before you serve it. Bring the whole thing to a boil again, then reduce the heat to low and simmer for 30 minutes. Taste, and adjust seasonings before you serve.
Servings: 8-12
You see, it's ninety-five degrees where I live now, and I am not in the mood for some wintery soup. So this one is lighter, and takes advantage of the snappy flavour of fresh leeks to add a bit of a twist. It's comfort food for when comfort food needs a lighter edge, like those days when you just feel the need to do something good for your body. I'm really kind of in love.
(Bonus! With food prices so ridiculous these days, underappreciated veggies tend to be cheap, because groceries want to get rid of them. So it's also cost-effective!)
(Extra-Bonus! It only uses one pot total, so the clean up takes about two minutes, and less if you've got a dishwasher!)
Rutabaga-Leek Soup
1 rutabaga, peeled (I find a vegetable peeler works best for this, but some people use paring knives)
1/2 small onion, or 1/4 medium one
3 large leeks, or 4 medium ones
3 tbsp unsalted butter
1 1/2 qts chicken stock
1 beef bouillon cube
1 can black beans, drained (I like Bush's)
6 stalks fresh thyme
2 stalks fresh oregano
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Begin by cutting your rutabaga into 1 inch cubes. These are supposed to be kind of rustic, so don't waste time with perfect knife work. Dump the rutabaga into a soup pot (which should be very large) about 1/3 full of boiling water, and add a small palmful of salt. Reduce the heat until the rutabaga is just barely boiling (on my stove this is medium-high), and cook for 10-15 minutes, or until the rutabaga is soft. When it's finished, drain it and let it sit until you need it.
While the rutabaga is boiling, chop your onion, then chop your leeks. Begin by cutting off the dark green leaves, and the very tip of the white end (the bit with the tentacle-ish roots). Wash your leeks thoroughly (this is very important, as leeks can contain dirt, and that's gross), then cut them in half lengthwise. Chop both halves into 1/4 inch thick semi-circles.
When the rutabaga is finished boiling and has been drained, rinse out the soup pot and return it to the burner. Lower the heat to medium and melt the butter, then drop in the onions. When the onions are soft and translucent, add the leeks and stir to coat them in butter. If you end up with too many leeks to coat sufficiently in butter, add a dash of olive oil to make sure they don't wind up sticking to the pot. Cook the leeks, stirring often, until they've softened and gone limp.
Add your chicken stock to the soup pot on top of the leeks. Dump in the rutabaga and stir, then dump in the drained beans and stir some more. Your soup should be substantial, but not overcrowded. You can add more stock if necessary; this is kind of an eyeball-it judgment. Add your herbs by just dropping in the whole stalk. You get the best flavour this way, and you can fish out the stalks before you serve it. Bring the whole thing to a boil again, then reduce the heat to low and simmer for 30 minutes. Taste, and adjust seasonings before you serve.
Servings: 8-12
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