So, here's how the conversation went:
G: As soon as I get to the airport, I'm getting a Schlotzsky's.
T: Sorry, dude, it closed down.
G: No, it didn't. (Hasn't been to an airport since September).
T: Uh, yes, it did.
G: Okay, Maudie's then.
Me: Uh, no.
G: Why not?
Me: Because (A) we're not technically out of town if we haven't even left the airport, and (B) we're having a nice dinner in Phoenix when we get there. You can have a big snack before we leave.
G: This project sucks.
And, I have become one of those people. You know, the ones who don't necessarily keep up with the shaving and smell like patchouli? I've packed lunch bags with sandwiches and snacks and fruit for all of us to take on the plane. I'm sure we'll be very popular.
Happy Spring Break, y'all!
Friday, March 9, 2012
Thursday, March 8, 2012
It's not what you think. That's not for me. Really.
I was completely out of spray cleaner. Which isn't all that big a deal. But I was out of spray cleaner because I was out of vodka. Which is a big deal on a lot of levels.
So, I went to Specs, which is a really fancy liquor store in Houston that my parents used to go to when they were having really important people over, but like everything else, it's become a chain. I needed vodka, and I was by a Specs. So, I went in.
And bought this:
A really, really cheap ($5.40) bottle of vodka. In a plastic bottle. At noon. On a Monday. In my yoga pants.
I don't know how the Russian (really?) guy at the register felt about it. Because he wouldn't look at me. I tried to explain that I wouldn't drink this myself. It was for stuff to clean my house. Not a glance. I gave up. I had to go home and take a shower after that.
And then I made cleaning spray! Why? A while back, I read an article about the artificial fragrances that they put in cleaning products to cover the smell of the really scary chemicals in them. S also has asthma, which was starting to become a problem. We consciously tried to decrease the amount of chemical ookiness in our house. Is it working? Who knows? Central Texas is the most allergy-plagued place on earth, so there are a lot of variables to contend with.
I found a great book -- Easy Green Living, by Renee Loux. If you can get past hating her for how cute and skinny she is and the fact that she lives in Hawaii or someplace equally tropical, she has a lot of great information, including recipes for products AND recommendations for store bought natural stuff. She's also very non-judge-y. Here's her website http://www.reneeloux.com/ and a link to the book. I am especially fond of the disinfecting spray and the window cleaner, both of which I pretty much use for everything.
Here's the recipe for the disinfecting spray:
Good Smelly Disinfecting Spray CORRECTED!
Renee Loux, Easy Green Living
1/4 cup cheap vodka (Renee says to use the cheap stuff -- they're all the same alcohol content)
3/4 cup 3% hydrogen peroxide (yes! the stuff from the drug store!)
1 cup bottled water (preferably distilled, but I never have it)
10 drops grapefruit or other citrusy essential oil or extract
10 drops lavender or other woody essential oil or extract
Combine all the ingredients and swirl. Do not shake - it makes the peroxide bubble and reduces the effectiveness. I pretty much put this on everything - I always spray my cutting boards down with it and always for the counter tops. Right now I'm using a combo of 10 grapefruit, 5 orange and 5 rosemary. For a long time, I used half lavender, half orange. I think you usually want to use some form of citrus extract because it has some antiseptic properties.
This is pretty good stuff, but Renee says it might not take care of raw meats or poultry. Bring out the big guns for that.
Dasvidaniya.
So, I went to Specs, which is a really fancy liquor store in Houston that my parents used to go to when they were having really important people over, but like everything else, it's become a chain. I needed vodka, and I was by a Specs. So, I went in.
And bought this:
A really, really cheap ($5.40) bottle of vodka. In a plastic bottle. At noon. On a Monday. In my yoga pants.
I don't know how the Russian (really?) guy at the register felt about it. Because he wouldn't look at me. I tried to explain that I wouldn't drink this myself. It was for stuff to clean my house. Not a glance. I gave up. I had to go home and take a shower after that.
And then I made cleaning spray! Why? A while back, I read an article about the artificial fragrances that they put in cleaning products to cover the smell of the really scary chemicals in them. S also has asthma, which was starting to become a problem. We consciously tried to decrease the amount of chemical ookiness in our house. Is it working? Who knows? Central Texas is the most allergy-plagued place on earth, so there are a lot of variables to contend with.
I found a great book -- Easy Green Living, by Renee Loux. If you can get past hating her for how cute and skinny she is and the fact that she lives in Hawaii or someplace equally tropical, she has a lot of great information, including recipes for products AND recommendations for store bought natural stuff. She's also very non-judge-y. Here's her website http://www.reneeloux.com/ and a link to the book. I am especially fond of the disinfecting spray and the window cleaner, both of which I pretty much use for everything.
Here's the recipe for the disinfecting spray:
Good Smelly Disinfecting Spray CORRECTED!
Renee Loux, Easy Green Living
1/4 cup cheap vodka (Renee says to use the cheap stuff -- they're all the same alcohol content)
3/4 cup 3% hydrogen peroxide (yes! the stuff from the drug store!)
1 cup bottled water (preferably distilled, but I never have it)
10 drops grapefruit or other citrusy essential oil or extract
10 drops lavender or other woody essential oil or extract
Combine all the ingredients and swirl. Do not shake - it makes the peroxide bubble and reduces the effectiveness. I pretty much put this on everything - I always spray my cutting boards down with it and always for the counter tops. Right now I'm using a combo of 10 grapefruit, 5 orange and 5 rosemary. For a long time, I used half lavender, half orange. I think you usually want to use some form of citrus extract because it has some antiseptic properties.
This is pretty good stuff, but Renee says it might not take care of raw meats or poultry. Bring out the big guns for that.
Dasvidaniya.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
I. Can't. Stand. It.
Saturday!
THIS is happening right now! On my front pathway! It's too much! I've been waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting, and it's just about to POP. Any day now. Well, let's be honest. I'm leaving town Friday, so I'm quite sure it will pop first thing Saturday morning. But still!
TODAY!
And I have these all over my front yard. Because of the rats. Well, they're not technically rats since they have wings. And beaks. And striped faces. But they're just like rats. This winter I was completely overrun by song sparrows. They're awful. They're bullies. They're mean girls. Like Lindsay Lohan before that bizarre plastic whatever she had done. What the hell? They take over nests and feeding areas of the really cool birds whose potential hasn't yet been fully realized. The band birds. And the brainy birds. And the theater birds. And the ones who wear glasses and have really, really big hair. No, wait.
This is NOT a song sparrow. This is Lesser Goldfinch.
He's in B lunch and sits at a table by himself.
Anyway, I made the rookie mistake of buying some songbird food that had some of the cheaper millet, small pellet-y, whatever stuff in it, and that's what song sparrows like. A lot. They were going through a feeder a day! I got tired of saying "squirrel" to the dogs and sending them outside to their unending disappointment, so I quit feeding them.
But much to my delight, after I cut back the knee high weeds (it's been a long drought -- I was just happy to see some green), I discovered sunflowers. Lots of them! In February! It's been warm and wet here, and they have managed just fine. And they're everywhere. Turns out, those horrible varmints only like the cheap stuff and spit the sunflower seeds out. So, they germinated where they lay, and now, I'm getting ready for a bumper crop. Thanks, guys.
Stay tuned.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Dear Douchebag
Austin really is the greatest city. I love it here. Aside from one very difficult year in my hometown of Houston (difficult because of a job, not the city itself), I have lived in or near Austin since 1987. Austin is diverse, tolerant, smart, fun, musical, and a whole lot of other adjectives. It can also be, well, a little too Austin for its own good.
Yesterday, I went with L, my superfabulous tennis partner and canning partner and cooking partner and friend, to the bag-your-own-dirt section at the Natural Gardener. A mecca of sorts around these parts, Natural Gardener has all kinds of organic soils and amendments and groovy things for your garden. And even better, instead of buying by the bag, you can go and dig your own, thereby recycling (less plastic from using your own bags) AND saving money (no labor other than your own, no transport costs, no markup). Neat, huh?
We arrived well before opening time and joined the long line of cars (it's almost planting season around here AND the weather was PERFECT - and I mean perfect even for Central Texas -- clear skies, mid 60's, slight breeze) waiting for the gates to open. When the pearly gates opened, we drove slowly to the way back, delicately marked SOIL with an arrow. It's true - what they're putting out elevates dirt to soil and beyond.
L and I were the only ones there for a solid half an hour - digging, bagging, filling, sweating, chatting. It was great. I'd have been miserable if I'd had to do it all alone, which I will have to do tomorrow. Because I can't measure volume. Which, by the way, is cubed and not squared. Dammit. We were soon joined by a benevolent and wise farmer guy who, as one does when sharing laborious tasks, began to chat. Turns out, he's got a large garden/farm out east of town and belongs to all manner of volunteer tomato forums (fora?). We chatted about tomato varieties, amendments (went with the turkey compost based on his recommendation), and blossom-end rot.
Please don't stop reading because you couldn't care less about tomatoes - this is about what nice looks like and what asshole looks like. Carry on.
Now, this type of conversation isn't going to happen just anywhere, but it was lovely. I mean really lovely. And even though I don't tend toward the wistful, it felt like blowing bubbles in the summer time. One of those little moments that you probably will forget later but will wish desperately that you had held onto it just a little longer. Our new friend, Larry, went so far as to give us each two tester tomato plants. He and his tomato buddies are cultivating new heirloom/hybrids, and he had a bunch in the back of his truck that he didn't need. Now, he didn't know us from Adam (Eve?). He, like us, had found a pleasant moment of time with some people with common interests and a gift of gab. So, he shared his knowledge and his tomato plants with us. It was, in what has become such a big city, magical.
Until. As L. and I were tying up our bags of garden dirt and getting ready to move on to the turkey compost, we noticed that the soil yard had filled up significantly. As in packed. As in sardines. So, she remarked, "I didn't realize that gardening had become so popular." And then, we got "outAustined." It's a phenomenon that you see every once in a while, usually at Whole Foods or REI or Natural Gardener (great places all, just locations for this disturbing trend). And it's not pretty. A young (to me - maybe early-30's) gentleman in just the right race t-shirt, from just the right 10K, with just the right track pants, said, "Well, gardening's been popular for a long time. You're just new to it, and you've come at a very busy time." And then gave us the stink eye because apparently we had less right to be there than he. So here is my missive to him:
Dear Douchebag,
Oh, no, you didn't. Let me just say that my friend L is from a farm in Gonzalez, Texas. She and her sister have access to some of the best produce you've ever eaten, including jalapenos so hot that I couldn't put my contacts in for a week after we canned them. She has the most beautiful gardens you have ever seen. She is also a lovely lady in her late 50s. You are the most condescending and preposterous and disrespectful piece of work that I have seen in a long time. And it popped my bubble. I am angry. And angry. I don't like people messing with my friends. I don't like general disrespect. And I don't like you thinking that you have anything on anyone, especially when you DON'T EVEN KNOW US.
And I especially don't like you taking what was a community of gardeners and planters, of amateurs and grizzled veterans, of like-minded strangers and friends and turning it into some kind of twisted game so that you can feel superior. Now, I realize that by letting you bother me I gave you control over my day, which you didn't deserve, and I am a bigger person that that, so I should have just ignored you. Bladdiddy, bladdiddy, blah. But Austin didn't used to be like that. And it's so much more than that. And I was having a perfectly nice tomato fantasy with my new friend. Larry, until you shit on it. So, thanks for that. Seriously, just be nice. It's really simple.
Love,
Me
Hrumph. One of my favorite people in the whole world had a bumper sticker in the 90s that I loved. People could live by this.
Mean people suck.
Yesterday, I went with L, my superfabulous tennis partner and canning partner and cooking partner and friend, to the bag-your-own-dirt section at the Natural Gardener. A mecca of sorts around these parts, Natural Gardener has all kinds of organic soils and amendments and groovy things for your garden. And even better, instead of buying by the bag, you can go and dig your own, thereby recycling (less plastic from using your own bags) AND saving money (no labor other than your own, no transport costs, no markup). Neat, huh?
We arrived well before opening time and joined the long line of cars (it's almost planting season around here AND the weather was PERFECT - and I mean perfect even for Central Texas -- clear skies, mid 60's, slight breeze) waiting for the gates to open. When the pearly gates opened, we drove slowly to the way back, delicately marked SOIL with an arrow. It's true - what they're putting out elevates dirt to soil and beyond.
L and I were the only ones there for a solid half an hour - digging, bagging, filling, sweating, chatting. It was great. I'd have been miserable if I'd had to do it all alone, which I will have to do tomorrow. Because I can't measure volume. Which, by the way, is cubed and not squared. Dammit. We were soon joined by a benevolent and wise farmer guy who, as one does when sharing laborious tasks, began to chat. Turns out, he's got a large garden/farm out east of town and belongs to all manner of volunteer tomato forums (fora?). We chatted about tomato varieties, amendments (went with the turkey compost based on his recommendation), and blossom-end rot.
Please don't stop reading because you couldn't care less about tomatoes - this is about what nice looks like and what asshole looks like. Carry on.
Now, this type of conversation isn't going to happen just anywhere, but it was lovely. I mean really lovely. And even though I don't tend toward the wistful, it felt like blowing bubbles in the summer time. One of those little moments that you probably will forget later but will wish desperately that you had held onto it just a little longer. Our new friend, Larry, went so far as to give us each two tester tomato plants. He and his tomato buddies are cultivating new heirloom/hybrids, and he had a bunch in the back of his truck that he didn't need. Now, he didn't know us from Adam (Eve?). He, like us, had found a pleasant moment of time with some people with common interests and a gift of gab. So, he shared his knowledge and his tomato plants with us. It was, in what has become such a big city, magical.
Until. As L. and I were tying up our bags of garden dirt and getting ready to move on to the turkey compost, we noticed that the soil yard had filled up significantly. As in packed. As in sardines. So, she remarked, "I didn't realize that gardening had become so popular." And then, we got "outAustined." It's a phenomenon that you see every once in a while, usually at Whole Foods or REI or Natural Gardener (great places all, just locations for this disturbing trend). And it's not pretty. A young (to me - maybe early-30's) gentleman in just the right race t-shirt, from just the right 10K, with just the right track pants, said, "Well, gardening's been popular for a long time. You're just new to it, and you've come at a very busy time." And then gave us the stink eye because apparently we had less right to be there than he. So here is my missive to him:
Dear Douchebag,
Oh, no, you didn't. Let me just say that my friend L is from a farm in Gonzalez, Texas. She and her sister have access to some of the best produce you've ever eaten, including jalapenos so hot that I couldn't put my contacts in for a week after we canned them. She has the most beautiful gardens you have ever seen. She is also a lovely lady in her late 50s. You are the most condescending and preposterous and disrespectful piece of work that I have seen in a long time. And it popped my bubble. I am angry. And angry. I don't like people messing with my friends. I don't like general disrespect. And I don't like you thinking that you have anything on anyone, especially when you DON'T EVEN KNOW US.
And I especially don't like you taking what was a community of gardeners and planters, of amateurs and grizzled veterans, of like-minded strangers and friends and turning it into some kind of twisted game so that you can feel superior. Now, I realize that by letting you bother me I gave you control over my day, which you didn't deserve, and I am a bigger person that that, so I should have just ignored you. Bladdiddy, bladdiddy, blah. But Austin didn't used to be like that. And it's so much more than that. And I was having a perfectly nice tomato fantasy with my new friend. Larry, until you shit on it. So, thanks for that. Seriously, just be nice. It's really simple.
Love,
Me
Hrumph. One of my favorite people in the whole world had a bumper sticker in the 90s that I loved. People could live by this.
Mean people suck.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Bouncing on Jellyfish
My new best friend, Karl T., came today to fix the oven/stove. As he worked, I blithely wandered about the house assuming that I was only a few short moments away from normality. But then, my usual bubbly optimism (ha) took a hit. Man down. The stove needs a part that will take 10 days to come in. Are you kidding me? I'M ON THE PROJECT!
Last week, the project did battle with full-time work. This week, we'll have to turn lemons into lemonade, or leftovers into leftoverade. We're going to party, pioneer style. If you consider cooking on a gas grill and a bunch of small appliances pioneer style.
The challenge: to use as many small appliances as possible to cook at home meals. No oven, no stove. It'll be just like when we got married. We had to move back to Austin for T's job and had no money to buy a house or rent an apartment because we'd lost our security deposit for breaking our lease as a result of our relocation. So, we lived in an Airstream trailer on my aunt's property in Dripping Springs. We had a toaster, a microwave, a grill, and an electric skillet. I'd forgotten all about that.
Piece of cake.
PS Bonus points if you got the movie reference in the title.
Last week, the project did battle with full-time work. This week, we'll have to turn lemons into lemonade, or leftovers into leftoverade. We're going to party, pioneer style. If you consider cooking on a gas grill and a bunch of small appliances pioneer style.
The challenge: to use as many small appliances as possible to cook at home meals. No oven, no stove. It'll be just like when we got married. We had to move back to Austin for T's job and had no money to buy a house or rent an apartment because we'd lost our security deposit for breaking our lease as a result of our relocation. So, we lived in an Airstream trailer on my aunt's property in Dripping Springs. We had a toaster, a microwave, a grill, and an electric skillet. I'd forgotten all about that.
Piece of cake.
PS Bonus points if you got the movie reference in the title.
Appalling?
More like appallingly awesome.
Okay, so I don't usually go in for food that may or may not be made from petroleum products. We eat a relatively balanced diet -- lean meats, vegetables (except on Tuesdays) the occasional ice cream cone. I buy organic and local when I can.
But not today. Today, my family is coming over for dinner because I can't go out according to the project (it's not a reunion if your brother lives in the same town and your parents come in quite a bit). And, if you've been following along, not only have I been working full days this week, my oven AND stove are broken. As in kaput. As in no-workee. As in nada.
Did I cave in? Did I wave the white flag? NO!
I bounced the herb-marinated pork tenderloin (I love you, Ina) to Friday. I'm making baked potatoes in my crockpot and one borrowed from my awesome neighbors, S and E, who should not be confused with my awesome neighbors, K and D, whose kitchen I virtually overran on Monday. My brother and his crew are bringing salad, and my parents are bringing appetizers.
The only thing left for our dinner is dessert. Do we need it? No. But do we need it? Yes. It's been a long week, and we don't really all get together as often as we should. Normally, I'd throw together an olive oil cake or some cookies. I really want to make this grapefruit-pecan sheet cake from my husband's college friend, Lisa Fain. On my very best days, I might make the buttermilk pie from the Houston Junior League Cookbook (um, the 1968, y'all, not that impostor from the 80s). All of those would be great. If I had an oven. And since I'm not buying pre-prepared items these days, I decided to forego the cakes and pies (yeah, we had one at S's birthday party, but I'm filing that under the birthday exemption).
So, that left ice cream, which is fine, but not terribly festive. I remembered a concoction that my neighbor, S, made me for my birthday many years ago. It was like an ice cream cake, only better, and homemade, and with crunchy bits. So, I called her from the freezer section at the HEB. "Hey, remember that thing you made me with the ice cream sandwiches that made a sort of a cake?" "Wow, I don't think I've thought of that since I made it for you." Yeah. And that was about 8 years ago. Neither of us could remember exactly how it worked, but we remembered that it was AWESOME. And contained copious amounts of Cool Whip. Between us, we were able to cobble together a reasonable working facsimile of it.
Now, Cool Whip is not the healthiest thing around. And if I think about it too hard, I start worrying about my blood pressure. And my butt. And then I get a little light-headed. So, instead of thinking about it, I did something about it. I bought a box of mini ice cream sandwiches, a tub of Cool Whip, a box of nutter butter wafers, with a Butterfinger candy bar kicker.
Here's the deal:
Ice Cream Sandwich Cake
It's very June Cleaver. My brother said it's more Marge Simpson than June Cleaver. You be the judge.
This is going to be waaaaaay better if you make it the night before.
1 box mini ice cream sandwiches
1 tub Cool Whip
1 pkg Nutter Butter wafers (not the regular cookies - too hard)
1 Butterfinger candy bar
1 8x8 square pan (I used disposable here - it's irresponsible and I feel terrible, but I will recycle it)
Line pan with ice cream sandwiches lying side to side. You may have to cut one in half to make them fit. Leave as little space in between as possible. Mash sandwiches down until all spaces in between are filled. Your fingers may be covered in chocolate cookie goo from the ice cream sandwiches. This is very sad. You will probably have to lick it off to make yourself feel better. Spread sandwiches with half of the Cool Whip in an even layer. Place a single layer of Nutter Butter wafers on Cool Whip. You may have to eat some of them while you are working because this is a really grueling process. Then place another layer of ice cream sandwiches down and mash them into the wafers until they have spread into an even layer. Oh, dear. You may have picked up some more ice cream sandwich cookie goo. Top with second half of Cool Whip. Bang candy bar against kitchen counter and beat with cookbook until it's in little bits. I think I used The Essential Pepin. Sprinkle top with candy bits. Cover and freeze, preferably overnight.
Mmmmmmmm. Well, hello, Eddie.
Okay, so I don't usually go in for food that may or may not be made from petroleum products. We eat a relatively balanced diet -- lean meats, vegetables (except on Tuesdays) the occasional ice cream cone. I buy organic and local when I can.
But not today. Today, my family is coming over for dinner because I can't go out according to the project (it's not a reunion if your brother lives in the same town and your parents come in quite a bit). And, if you've been following along, not only have I been working full days this week, my oven AND stove are broken. As in kaput. As in no-workee. As in nada.
Did I cave in? Did I wave the white flag? NO!
I bounced the herb-marinated pork tenderloin (I love you, Ina) to Friday. I'm making baked potatoes in my crockpot and one borrowed from my awesome neighbors, S and E, who should not be confused with my awesome neighbors, K and D, whose kitchen I virtually overran on Monday. My brother and his crew are bringing salad, and my parents are bringing appetizers.
The only thing left for our dinner is dessert. Do we need it? No. But do we need it? Yes. It's been a long week, and we don't really all get together as often as we should. Normally, I'd throw together an olive oil cake or some cookies. I really want to make this grapefruit-pecan sheet cake from my husband's college friend, Lisa Fain. On my very best days, I might make the buttermilk pie from the Houston Junior League Cookbook (um, the 1968, y'all, not that impostor from the 80s). All of those would be great. If I had an oven. And since I'm not buying pre-prepared items these days, I decided to forego the cakes and pies (yeah, we had one at S's birthday party, but I'm filing that under the birthday exemption).
So, that left ice cream, which is fine, but not terribly festive. I remembered a concoction that my neighbor, S, made me for my birthday many years ago. It was like an ice cream cake, only better, and homemade, and with crunchy bits. So, I called her from the freezer section at the HEB. "Hey, remember that thing you made me with the ice cream sandwiches that made a sort of a cake?" "Wow, I don't think I've thought of that since I made it for you." Yeah. And that was about 8 years ago. Neither of us could remember exactly how it worked, but we remembered that it was AWESOME. And contained copious amounts of Cool Whip. Between us, we were able to cobble together a reasonable working facsimile of it.
Now, Cool Whip is not the healthiest thing around. And if I think about it too hard, I start worrying about my blood pressure. And my butt. And then I get a little light-headed. So, instead of thinking about it, I did something about it. I bought a box of mini ice cream sandwiches, a tub of Cool Whip, a box of nutter butter wafers, with a Butterfinger candy bar kicker.
Here's the deal:
Ice Cream Sandwich Cake
It's very June Cleaver. My brother said it's more Marge Simpson than June Cleaver. You be the judge.
This is going to be waaaaaay better if you make it the night before.
1 box mini ice cream sandwiches
1 tub Cool Whip
1 pkg Nutter Butter wafers (not the regular cookies - too hard)
1 Butterfinger candy bar
1 8x8 square pan (I used disposable here - it's irresponsible and I feel terrible, but I will recycle it)
Line pan with ice cream sandwiches lying side to side. You may have to cut one in half to make them fit. Leave as little space in between as possible. Mash sandwiches down until all spaces in between are filled. Your fingers may be covered in chocolate cookie goo from the ice cream sandwiches. This is very sad. You will probably have to lick it off to make yourself feel better. Spread sandwiches with half of the Cool Whip in an even layer. Place a single layer of Nutter Butter wafers on Cool Whip. You may have to eat some of them while you are working because this is a really grueling process. Then place another layer of ice cream sandwiches down and mash them into the wafers until they have spread into an even layer. Oh, dear. You may have picked up some more ice cream sandwich cookie goo. Top with second half of Cool Whip. Bang candy bar against kitchen counter and beat with cookbook until it's in little bits. I think I used The Essential Pepin. Sprinkle top with candy bits. Cover and freeze, preferably overnight.
Mmmmmmmm. Well, hello, Eddie.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Really? And recipes.
So much for feeling like a bad-ass. I had it all together yesterday. Yoga'd when I was supposed to yoga. Shopped for the entire week. Had the kitchen cleaned and ready for my two-meal cooking session. And just so you can experience my bad-ass-ness with me, here are the recipes, so you can follow along. Pay close attention.
Hear strange noises from the oven - sort of like a clicking noise that seems to be coming from the control panel. Pay no attention. Wash pot from chicken to use to prep quiche.
Quick Crock Pot Garlic Chicken Thighs
(from Williams Sonoma New Slow Cooker Cookbook)
3 to 3.5 # skin-on, bone-in chicken thighs
salt and pepper
olive oil
1/2 yellow onion, diced
15 cloves garlic, peeled but left whole
1/3 (who are we kidding? 1/2) cup white wine
3 stems thyme
3 bay leaves
Pat thighs dry with a paper towel and cover both sides with salt and pepper. Add olive oil to coat the bottom of a heavy skillet and heat on high heat. Working in 2 batches (my 3.5 pounds was 8 thighs), place thighs in skillet and brown - skin side down. Leave them where they are to brown for about 4 minutes. Do not turn over. Once skin side is well browned, put thighs in crock pot. Repeat with second batch of thighs.
Once chicken is browned, pour off any accumulated fat and recoat skillet with olive oil. Reduce heat to medium. Add onion, garlic, and thyme and allow to soften and turn golden (6-8 minutes). Add wine and bayleaf, scraping the brown bits from the bottom of the pan. Bring wine to a simmer. Pour onion/wine mixture over chicken in crock pot.
Cook on low heat in crock pot for 3 hours. Recipe continues below as noted.
Hear strange noises from the oven - sort of like a clicking noise that seems to be coming from the control panel. Pay no attention. Wash pot from chicken to use to prep quiche.
Quiche with Leeks and Greens (makes 2)
(I never make just one of these - pie crusts come in packs of two and we always want the leftovers for lunches.)
2 frozen whole wheat pie crusts
6 slices low sodium bacon
olive oil
1 bunch leeks (usually two large or three small) (No leeks? Use one yellow onion)
2 bunches greens (usually chard or kale, but use anything you have - spinach, even mustard or collards although they will need a little more wilting time; heck, you can even use leftover broccoli, asparagus or other cooked veggies that you have around. This is a kitchen sink kinda meal).
1/2 to 2/3 c. shredded parmesan cheese (or jack or swiss or cheddar or whatever you like)
12 eggs
3T skim milk
salt and pepper
Preheat oven to 350. Prick pie crusts with a fork and prebake while prepping other ingredients (about 15 minutes - I like my crust pretty dark).
Chop bacon into small pieces. Place in cold skillet and bring skillet up to medium high heat.
Notice that burner on stove does not appear to be working at all. Notice that no lights, time, or other evidence of life is coming from the control panel. Become concerned. Because you have no back up plan. Turn on burner again. Notice that turning on burner appears to cause control panel and oven to turn on, but burner does not turn on. Turning burner off appears to disconnect oven. Become very concerned. Attempt to use oven by turning on burner which does not heat. No heat in oven either despite promising beeping and lights on control panel. Become hysterical. Call neighbors and see if you can use their stove.
Give up on bacon temporarily. Pull only partly prebaked pie crusts out of broken oven.
Prep remaining ingredients: cut off all but white and light green of leeks. Halve leeks and then chop into small pieces. Place chopped leeks into deep bowl filled with water. Swish leeks around and then LEAVE. Sand will fall to the bottom. Take stems off of greens and roughly chop. Place in colander and rinse very well with cold water.
Take large pile of chopped up stuff across the driveway.
Chop bacon into small pieces. Place in cold skillet and bring skillet up to medium high heat. Brown until crisp. Remove bacon pieces to paper towel and drain bacon fat out of pan. Leave brown bits on bottom of pan.
Reduce heat to medium. Pour a touch of olive oil in, just to cover the bottom of the pan. Remove leeks carefully from water, leaving grit at the bottom of the bowl (use slotted spoon) and add to skillet. Saute until very tender (5-6 minutes, depending on the size of the chop). Damp leeks will pick up some of the color from the bacon bits on the bottom of the pan. When leeks are soft, add greens and a couple of pinches of salt (I use kosher) until wilted and very tender (this will take next to no time for spinach and leftover cooked veggies, a little longer for chard and kale, and quite a bit for mustard and collards.) Once greens have fully wilted, mix bacon pieces back into greens.
Run back to the house carrying large skillet to prep eggs and finish quiches.
In a large bowl, crack 6 eggs. Separate remaining 6 eggs, keeping egg whites and discarding yolks (Ooooh, or save them for lemon curd. Mmmmmmm.). Add milk and salt and pepper and whisk together.
Assemble quiches: place half of greens mixture in each pie crust. Sprinkle half of cheese on each quiche. Pour half of egg and egg white breakfast over each quiche. Place quiches on sheet pan.
Run back to neighbors carrying sheet pan and two pies to use oven.
Bake at 350 for about 30 minutes or until slightly golden and just set in the center. They will continue to firm up as they cool - this is a matter of taste and also will depend on how much water your vegetables contain, so keep an eye on them. Allow quiches to cool slightly before serving.
Run home to finish chicken. Realize that you can't cook noodles. Run back to neighbors to boil noodle water. Run home to finish chicken.
Chicken Thighs (continued)
After three hours, pull chicken out of crock pot and reserve on a plate, covered with foil. Strain cooking juices through into a small sauce pan. Reserve garlic cloves and keep warm with chicken. Discard all other solids. Cool liquid for a few minutes until fat rises to the top and skim the fat.
Run back to neighbors with chicken juices. Run back to house to get noodles. Cook noodles at neighbors while gravy is reducing.
Bring chicken juices to boil and reduce to simmer. Simmer until reduced to a thickish gravy (I didn't let it go all the way to thick because I wanted a little extra to serve over the noodles).
Run back home with noodles and gravy.
Pour gravy over chicken and serve.
Collapse.
(I never make just one of these - pie crusts come in packs of two and we always want the leftovers for lunches.)
2 frozen whole wheat pie crusts
6 slices low sodium bacon
olive oil
1 bunch leeks (usually two large or three small) (No leeks? Use one yellow onion)
2 bunches greens (usually chard or kale, but use anything you have - spinach, even mustard or collards although they will need a little more wilting time; heck, you can even use leftover broccoli, asparagus or other cooked veggies that you have around. This is a kitchen sink kinda meal).
1/2 to 2/3 c. shredded parmesan cheese (or jack or swiss or cheddar or whatever you like)
12 eggs
3T skim milk
salt and pepper
Preheat oven to 350. Prick pie crusts with a fork and prebake while prepping other ingredients (about 15 minutes - I like my crust pretty dark).
Chop bacon into small pieces. Place in cold skillet and bring skillet up to medium high heat.
Notice that burner on stove does not appear to be working at all. Notice that no lights, time, or other evidence of life is coming from the control panel. Become concerned. Because you have no back up plan. Turn on burner again. Notice that turning on burner appears to cause control panel and oven to turn on, but burner does not turn on. Turning burner off appears to disconnect oven. Become very concerned. Attempt to use oven by turning on burner which does not heat. No heat in oven either despite promising beeping and lights on control panel. Become hysterical. Call neighbors and see if you can use their stove.
Give up on bacon temporarily. Pull only partly prebaked pie crusts out of broken oven.
Prep remaining ingredients: cut off all but white and light green of leeks. Halve leeks and then chop into small pieces. Place chopped leeks into deep bowl filled with water. Swish leeks around and then LEAVE. Sand will fall to the bottom. Take stems off of greens and roughly chop. Place in colander and rinse very well with cold water.
Take large pile of chopped up stuff across the driveway.
Chop bacon into small pieces. Place in cold skillet and bring skillet up to medium high heat. Brown until crisp. Remove bacon pieces to paper towel and drain bacon fat out of pan. Leave brown bits on bottom of pan.
Reduce heat to medium. Pour a touch of olive oil in, just to cover the bottom of the pan. Remove leeks carefully from water, leaving grit at the bottom of the bowl (use slotted spoon) and add to skillet. Saute until very tender (5-6 minutes, depending on the size of the chop). Damp leeks will pick up some of the color from the bacon bits on the bottom of the pan. When leeks are soft, add greens and a couple of pinches of salt (I use kosher) until wilted and very tender (this will take next to no time for spinach and leftover cooked veggies, a little longer for chard and kale, and quite a bit for mustard and collards.) Once greens have fully wilted, mix bacon pieces back into greens.
Run back to the house carrying large skillet to prep eggs and finish quiches.
In a large bowl, crack 6 eggs. Separate remaining 6 eggs, keeping egg whites and discarding yolks (Ooooh, or save them for lemon curd. Mmmmmmm.). Add milk and salt and pepper and whisk together.
Assemble quiches: place half of greens mixture in each pie crust. Sprinkle half of cheese on each quiche. Pour half of egg and egg white breakfast over each quiche. Place quiches on sheet pan.
Run back to neighbors carrying sheet pan and two pies to use oven.
Bake at 350 for about 30 minutes or until slightly golden and just set in the center. They will continue to firm up as they cool - this is a matter of taste and also will depend on how much water your vegetables contain, so keep an eye on them. Allow quiches to cool slightly before serving.
Run home to finish chicken. Realize that you can't cook noodles. Run back to neighbors to boil noodle water. Run home to finish chicken.
Chicken Thighs (continued)
After three hours, pull chicken out of crock pot and reserve on a plate, covered with foil. Strain cooking juices through into a small sauce pan. Reserve garlic cloves and keep warm with chicken. Discard all other solids. Cool liquid for a few minutes until fat rises to the top and skim the fat.
Run back to neighbors with chicken juices. Run back to house to get noodles. Cook noodles at neighbors while gravy is reducing.
Bring chicken juices to boil and reduce to simmer. Simmer until reduced to a thickish gravy (I didn't let it go all the way to thick because I wanted a little extra to serve over the noodles).
Run back home with noodles and gravy.
Pour gravy over chicken and serve.
Collapse.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)