tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-127743022024-03-07T00:07:20.365-08:00I'm Mad and I EatThis blog is no morecookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.comBlogger1416125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-67051533373128138642013-08-26T12:33:00.003-07:002013-08-26T16:43:51.727-07:00Cute Tartare<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/e745ea2c997dbd432beb979c4c08415b_zps184785c5.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/e745ea2c997dbd432beb979c4c08415b_zps184785c5.jpg" /></a><p>These are tarsiers. They probably live in a TARDIS. I think they eat tarte Tatin. They are never tardy.</p>
<p>Tarnation!</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-31028340142318048362013-08-21T16:57:00.000-07:002013-08-21T16:57:30.088-07:00Don't Blame the Food<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/0d7d8d63fbd3f8184735a7634d3a3728_zps11819bdc.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0";width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/0d7d8d63fbd3f8184735a7634d3a3728_zps11819bdc.jpg" /></a><p>If you find yourself describing your recipes as "guilt-free," you probably have a bad relationship with food.</p>
<p>Food doesn't make you svelte. A "skinny" dish will not melt away the pounds. You have to eat; it's a requirement for being alive. But a healthy diet involves portion control as well as excellent ingredients. And if you convince yourself your food is guilt-free, you're just going to eat too much of it, and you will have overeaten.</p>
<p>It makes me sad that some people use the word "guilt" when describing what they eat. Food is not guilty for your flab; you are.</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-6081775227300806892013-08-19T22:07:00.002-07:002013-08-19T22:07:22.364-07:00A Pig. Pigs eat.<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/4693a7f016a4026a4df277a685801262_zps9ed31733.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/4693a7f016a4026a4df277a685801262_zps9ed31733.jpg" /></a><p>Some also apparently play the guitar. Not me.</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-74925887485290821682013-08-11T10:50:00.002-07:002013-08-11T10:50:21.815-07:00Dogs Will Be Dogs<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/6029e41ea8925fbcd3f90e81e431348b_zpsd636a5dd.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/6029e41ea8925fbcd3f90e81e431348b_zpsd636a5dd.jpg" /></a><p>Look at this little rascal run, dogtag flying. Cute! (I apologize for all the critter pics. My new obsession, I guess.)</p>
<p>I've tried to get action shots like this of Bartlett, but she's just too fast. Or I'm using the wrong camera settings. I snapped one yesterday, and everything is in focus but the dog.</p>
<p>Bartlett is doing well. She has decided that for her birthday she wants to be a barking dog, and boy, is mommy mad! We are working really hard on correcting that, now, and the poor puppy is now afraid to bark when she needs to go outside for a potty visit. She's smart, though, so it's the humans who will have to refine our training techniques to let her know there are good barks and there are bad barks.</p>
<p>She'll be four week after next. Or today. We don't know, because she was a dog pound dog.<p/>
<p>Happy birthday!</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-72313863257866200562013-08-08T12:25:00.002-07:002013-08-08T14:20:10.667-07:00It Doesn't Suck!<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/2442bbaa2c7adae1b00dc29bd21e2ff6_zps55c4ac83.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/2442bbaa2c7adae1b00dc29bd21e2ff6_zps55c4ac83.jpg" /></a><p>I know. It's succotash. Such a filthy word for a food kids won't eat. Goulash, that was another. And there were even kids who wouldn't eat eggplant because the name was so stupid!</p>
<p>Gosh, Cranky and I must have been together for years before I found out he liked lima beans. I love lima beans! But I had kept them off the menu because I was the only person I knew who liked them. He likes them!</p>
<p>We have one or two or three ways we enjoy limas, and one of them is succotash. Corn kernels, beans, and... Hm, what's that creamy-looking sauce? Neither of us can remember, but it's probably a little mixture of cream and soft white cheese stirred in, to melt in the warmth of the veggies. A non-kosher embellishment, and yum.</p>
<p>You could eat this with a blindfold on, without knowing its hideous name, and you'd probably love it.</p>
<p>But you're not going to, ya wuss.</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-42293020686416319122013-08-06T23:52:00.004-07:002013-08-06T23:52:54.116-07:00That's It?<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/58a056a589007786e164df9a89385cb7_zps81a031e5.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400pz src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/58a056a589007786e164df9a89385cb7_zps81a031e5.jpg" /></a>OK.
No comments?
I'm done.
Bye bye.cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-32011255481071359272013-08-05T16:45:00.002-07:002013-08-05T16:45:24.177-07:00Is This What You Want?<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/b47054113ae0fc658265749d0e5e9341_zpsfea34764.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/b47054113ae0fc658265749d0e5e9341_zpsfea34764.jpg" /></a><p>X-treme cute. Polar bear swimming underwater. Cute!</p>
<p>Listen, these guys are all gonna die if we don't stop global warming and protect their habitat. Already, fish populations in this hemisphere's oceans are migrating farther and farther north each year, in search of cooler seawater temperatures that remind them of back home, which they have had to abandon.</p>
<p>The polar bears don't have a whole lot of room to move any farther north — and why is it our job in the US to manage climate change alone? (Once we get beyond the disaster caused by Bush, and the GOP doesn't <i>want</i> any more atmospheric regulations, because it costs the rich people money not to destroy the planet and money is more important.)<p>
<p>OK, cute rant over. I'll get back to cute food soon.</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-918027755235254552013-08-03T17:13:00.001-07:002013-08-04T15:56:50.164-07:00I'm Boring You with Buttermilk<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/6569dac831eef7856a740bc308c008fa_zpsf22b4f77.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/6569dac831eef7856a740bc308c008fa_zpsf22b4f77.jpg" /></a><p>OK, after this, I <i>promise</i> not to squick you out with buttermilk anymore.</p>
<p>This is buttermilk, the original, pure fluid that is expelled from butter when you churn cream. It's not the stuff you buy in the grocery store, although you will have had to buy some of that in order to get the flavor thing going in the butter.</p>
<p>I have long known that real buttermilk from the old days was the leftover whey from making butter, but I just couldn't imagine it. Actually, no, I imagined it, but I got it wrong. I thought it would be a weepy, transparent liquid, and have no zing in the flavor.</p>
<p>This, <I>this</I> is luscious, velvety, solid white, and it tastes fantastic. It tastes fantastic because I cultured the cream overnight, before churning, with some commercial buttermilk. Yes, that definitely works, giving the butter an amazing tart, almost cheese-like flavor.</p>
<p>And (duh!) it also flavors the whey that separates out from the fat. The buttermilk tastes like buttermilk!</p>
<p>Because I am a monomaniac, I hope you, too will try this at home.</p>
<p>Kids! Try this at home!</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-41026035813145092662013-07-31T16:16:00.000-07:002013-08-03T17:44:38.397-07:00More Trendy Food<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/e3c58f8e8f9ce132241458f6919736c0_zps655681d1.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/e3c58f8e8f9ce132241458f6919736c0_zps655681d1.jpg" /></a><p>Once again I have succumbed to a fad. I probably spend too much time on TasteSpotting, where so many of the bloggers seem to be copying each other.</p>
<p>Popsicles! (Yes, I intend to make popsicles this summer, and I will no doubt blog about them.) Green smoothies! (You know what? No, just no. Let everyone else do it.) Cookies, in a stack with a string tied around it, photoed with the obligatory mini milk bottle and a swirly paper straw! (Not gonna happen, but I know where to go if I want to look at some.)</p>
<p>OK, this one got me: overnight oats. It's so enormously ubiquitous, it's impossible to know who came up with this idea. I mean, go to Google and type "overnight." Before you even finish typing it, Google will suggest overnight oats, top of the list! And while you're there, you can find out how to make it, because this isn't a recipe blog. {smiley face}</p>
<p>But I will tell you roughly how I went about having this for breakfast, once I learned about it.</p>
<p>OK, the night before, soak some raw, rolled oats (the old-fashioned kind, not quick-cook) in some buttermilk. You shouldn't underdo the amount, but it won't hurt if you overdo it. Stir in some chia seeds — trendy, trendy chia seeds (they're good for you, and they provide a neat texture, but if I call it "gummy" you will never visit this blog again). Some sweetener goes in, too, and maple syrup is a very common one on the internets. Stir it all up. I should mention that you ought to make this mixture in a jar with a lid, because you might want to make enough for multiple breakfasts, and you can just keep the jar in the fridge.</p>
<p>Into the fridge this all goes (and I'm afraid I might have forgotten to tell you all the ingredients, but you can look it up). Overnight. Yeah, raw oats, overnight in the ice box!</p>
<p>At breakfast time, scoop out a small mound for each serving — these oats aren't diluted by cooking in water, like hot oatmeal. It's a compact, nutrient-dense thing. And it's cold. Sorry, you ain't gettin' a hot meal, but, then, you didn't have to cook it, either.</p>
<p>The oats will be soft enough to eat. A little chewy, maybe, but it's not at all objectionable. And, darn, there's a faint raw taste, but you won't mind, really.</p>.
<p>Here's the thing. It's convenient! It's good eating. You can make enough at one time to feed you for a good few days.</p>
<p>I liked this breakfast, trendy though it is.</p>
<p>Imagine calling a bowl of oats trendy.</p>
<p>UPDATE: First, we made another batch, with even more buttermilk. It came out looser, softer, almost the exact texture of cooked oats. And no raw flavor! Also — it just occurred to me — if you want it hot, you can nuke it for a few seconds. Duh!</p>
<p>Second, comments, people? Thanks to Chilebrown for dropping by, but I'm feeling sad and neglected.</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-44429789630607232752013-07-28T13:53:00.001-07:002013-07-28T14:07:15.693-07:00Like Buttah<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/f166529f2d65867e7984950cac931b4a_zpsdaf38bfc.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/f166529f2d65867e7984950cac931b4a_zpsdaf38bfc.jpg" /></a><p>I should go ahead and tell you. We made butter.</p>
<p>Not that it's any big secret or enormous accomplishment. I was just trying to decide whether to tell you about the buttermilk first or the butter first. Well, since the buttermilk <i>results</i> from butter making, I figured it's gotta be butter first. But then, you need buttermilk to <i>make</i> butter, so. Logic eludes me. Back to KenKen.</p>
<p>These are my daily concerns.</p>
<p>If you remember, I got a copy of Diane St. Claire's Buttermilk cookbook, and one of the first recipes is for butter. I had long wanted to give butter making on my own a try, but I knew I would want to culture the cream first, for that taste. There's no word to describe it. That <i>taste</i>. But how do you get it? Then there's supposed to be something about kneading the butter, and I was a little confused. Wouldn't it melt from the warmth of my hands? So I just put it off until I got the book.</p>
<p>I would like to add that my mother accidentally made butter when I was young, by overwhipping some heavy cream. She was tickled to death, and a little embarrassed, but I can't remember any of us ever eating it. Mom was a margarine gal. My point is, it's dead easy to whip cream into butter.</p>
<p>But if Betty wants to make a better butter, she must follow Diane's rules. Remember, Diane makes all the butter Thomas Keller uses.</p>
<p>And the rules are: Stellar ingredients. Culturing. Kneading.</p>
<p>Buy good cream from a reliable dairy. St. Claire raises her own Jersey cows, and that's the pinnacle in the pantheon of perfection. I don't think the cream we're buying comes from Jersey cows, but it's organic, chemical-free, pretty good.</p>
<p>Next, culturing. You need to stir a couple of spoonfuls of buttermilk into the cream and leave it out overnight. But remember, stellar ingredients. It has to be the best buttermilk you can find. I happen to be thrilled with the brand I buy, so all's well. But, wait. Isn't that formula for culturing the cream the exact same recipe for making crème fraîche? That can't be right. But it's right. You are going to whip crème fraîche into butter, and Who Knew? Not I. (That <i>taste.)</i></p>
<p>Last, the kneading. You cannot omit this step. When the butter comes together in your blender, it will be bathed in the whey that has separated out. If you don't get all the whey out, it could go rotten inside the butter, spoiling a once-good thing. Knead! Just hold the mass of butter, and squeeze, rinsing it in cold water occasionally. You'll be amazed at all the stuff that sploops out. (But save it. I'll tell you what to do with it soon.)</p>
<p>And that's it! Easy. It even comes out yellow. Now, pack your butter into a little pot with a lid for storing.</p>
<p>But it won't last long. It's way more delicious than the butter we normally buy, even if it costs a little bit more, and it's going fast. We're curing the next batch of cream right now.</p>
cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-68216252120540128092013-07-25T13:53:00.000-07:002013-07-25T14:06:02.650-07:00Good Idea<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/8fd1dbc22c4625e1ae5c6257c393a713_zpsafd0b681.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/8fd1dbc22c4625e1ae5c6257c393a713_zpsafd0b681.jpg" width="400px" /></a><p>Here you go. Good idea.</p>
<p>Always keep some cooked rice in the fridge.</p>
<p>You will find a million uses for it. Chicken and rice soup? Yes, because you always keep homemade chicken stock in the freezer, or, jeez, you should. Fried rice? Fried rice requires day-old rice, and you love using up aging vegetables in fried rice, or you should.</p>
<p>You´ll probably be able to think up lots of other ideas for leftover rice. Just this morning I was looking at a recipe for larb, Thai lettuce cups with seasoned chicken, and it occurred to me that a little rice would be nice in there, with the other ingredients. Probably horribly inauthentic, but I liked the thought of lightening up the meatiness and bulking up with grains. Gonna try that real soon.</p>
<p>Today's example is something we've been doing for some time now, rice stirred in with beaten eggs and the additions of your choice (that was asparagus, when it was in season). This time we cooked it frittata-style, in a pan on the stove instead of casserole-style, in a covered dish in the oven. Still a winner. I recommend this for a good fast meal (and make sure the rice is not freshly cooked, because hot rice in beaten eggs = derp).</p>
<p>I really owe it to you to think of more ideas for leftover rice... Meatloaf? Salad? Yeah, I've made cold rice salad before, and it's kinda nice. What else? Tell me what you might do with leftover rice, because the next time you cook rice, you're going to make too much and save the extras. Aren't you?</p>
<p>Good idea.</p>
cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-87026735476518049402013-07-23T17:05:00.003-07:002013-07-23T17:06:37.214-07:00It's National Hot Dog Day<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/94657ee75d59140b04f2d685ce6bc4c2_zps2b8eee62.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/94657ee75d59140b04f2d685ce6bc4c2_zps2b8eee62.jpg" /></a>I like a little mustard on mine.cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-80201012428522894802013-07-22T13:14:00.001-07:002013-07-22T14:17:12.590-07:00Feeling Saucy<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/0bd3a2e6-ad0e-420e-8c71-475a67b830f3_zpse63e4d1d.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/0bd3a2e6-ad0e-420e-8c71-475a67b830f3_zpse63e4d1d.jpg" /></a><p>I spend an embarrassing amount of time slogging around on Taste Overload and CuteSpotting. There are payoff moments of squee, sure, but a lot of the food over on TasteWhatever is tiresome, unoriginal, drowned in sugar (I could go on). (The cats are always a delight, though.)</p>
<p>But it's worth it over on TasteLand for those aha! moments. And if you pronounce aha with the accent on the first syllable, you are reprehensible. And wrong.</p>
<p>I've got my eye on a corn fritters recipe, and I have already made two (at least) other dishes that came out really well. One I have yet to post, and you will flip when you see it. This one here, though, we are actually making all the time now, it's so good.</p>
<p>It's a salsa cruda with chunks of avocado, along with the tomatoes, onions and peppers. It would never have occurred to me to add avocado to salsa (except for those wonderful blended green salsas with green chiles and tomatillos). I mean, I put avocado slices on my nachos, and they're served with salsa. So it's a natural combination. Dumb me, I just didn't put dos y dos together. So pretty, and such a fun texture!</p>
<p>But (you knew there was going to be a but) there's another secret ingredient, again something I was unable to imagine all on my own. Tequila! In a salsa cruda! Exclamation points!</p>
<p>It's remarkable. Just a tiny dash, because you're not going for boozy. A whisper of South of the Border, but if you tasted some of mine, you'd never guess there was hooch in it. The result is flavor, and I'm finding it hard to describe. You know what salsa tastes like, and you know what tequila tastes like. But in combination, everything becomes so synergized you can't tell what's in there. And it's good.</p>
<p>Oh, and there's a squeeze of lime too. We're talking flavor.</p>
<p>There it is on top of a quesadilla filled with cheese and corn kernels. It's almost like salad on your food, and I mean that in the kindest way.</p>
<p>I apologize that I can't attribute the recipe. Story of my life. When I'm rambling around on TasteSpotter, I never seem to memorize the names of the bloggers I click on, unless they are somebody I already know. Poor excuse, but it's hell trying to scroll back dozens of pages, searching and failing to find the source again.</p>
<p>Okay. Adios.</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-43258938338896408212013-07-20T09:00:00.000-07:002013-07-20T09:00:00.022-07:00Whose Idea Was This?<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/47c1803e3028a580fdd303e4c18d10fa_zpsb4090b93.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/47c1803e3028a580fdd303e4c18d10fa_zpsb4090b93.jpg" /></a><p>Wow, I just remembered this. A long time ago, I don't even think we were married yet, Cranky and I threw a Bad Taste party.</p>
<p>We were into theme parties. There was that party at our new house, built in 1963, and everybody dressed the part and brought atrocious mid-century snacks. Gucci shirts. Swedish meatballs, cheese ball, flaming pupu head. Like that. We also dreamed up a Kennedys party, where you had to dress as your favorite K. This was during the rape trial of William Kennedy Smith, nephew of Teddy, and I thought it would be funny to show up as his accuser, with the huge blue dot TV stations were placing over her face, to protect her privacy. Might have been a little hard walking around. Anyway, we haven't yet had that party (and careful, you're on the guest list).</p>
<p>Well, the Bad Taste party. We spared our guests from having to bring any food, but we ordered them to dress appropriately. Bad. One pal came in a prom dress, with her wrists draped in gross charm bracelets. Cranky managed to find himself a Ban-Lon shirt, very Kramer (here, have a <a href="http://www.americanaclassicvintage.com/blogg/2010/05/30/ban-lon-shirt/">look</a>). And I remember wearing hot pants and white go-go boots. (Yes, there was a shirt!)</p>
<p>A few of our friends were demonstrably worried about the food we'd be serving. One of them, an anorectic I think, decided not to eat anything. Until we brought it out.</p>
<p>We had faked everything with good food that looked bad. There was shaving cheese (you know, the stuff in a squirt can), but we had made our own blend with decent cheese, and dribbled it out of one of those plastic, spouted ketchup bottles. We served wagon wheel pasta (who on earth eats that, and is it even available anymore?) topped with a lovingly concocted spaghetti sauce.</p>
<p>For drinks, well, maybe you weren't so lucky. There was Lancers wine and J. R. Ewing's Private Stock beer. No kidding, that stuff really existed!</p>
<p>Things went south, though. We felt an obligation to present some really awful bad-taste food. Canned fruit cocktail mixed with miniature marshmallows.</p>
<p>Even I couldn't eat that pile of hooey.</p>
cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-71204207428539280092013-07-18T15:43:00.001-07:002013-08-11T22:30:30.591-07:00In Which I Go a Little Nutty<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/66c6fcfe4ab594530c043cf5776ed38d_zps9af7829f.jpg" image-anchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/66c6fcfe4ab594530c043cf5776ed38d_zps9af7829f.jpg" /></a><p>Here's one of the cookbooks I wanted to tell you about. I'm afraid these days I mostly enjoy cookbooks as a fun read, but, dawg! We've been using this one.</p>
<p>Cranky spotted this book on one of his prowls, and he knew instantly that I would have to have it. Truthfully, it makes me feel a little like a wackadoodle, knowing (and knowing he knows) that I'm so avid about buttermilk that a book like this would give me paroxysms. But it does, and I'm admitting it. {smiley face}</p>
<p>Let me extol the author's credentials. Diane St. Clair is Thomas Keller's personal butter maker. Making butter results in buttermilk. QED. When we dined at the French Laundry a few months ago, our server specified that he was giving us little pots of butter from the Animal Farm in Vermont. St. Clair's Animal Farm. That good.</p>
<p>OK, the book. It features recipes using buttermilk, ones that you already know about. Biscuits, fried chicken, salad dressing, chilled soups. Desserts, of course, but also main dishes, sides, salads (and I left my copy of the book in the kitchen, so I can't cite specifics because there's a dog in my lap right now). Oh, yes, breakfasts!</p>
<p>Yep. The first thing we tried from the book was buttermilk French toast. Easy, nothing special or time-consuming. Just like regular French toast. Except it's made with buttermilk. (Duh!) The resulting product was soft, elegant, and obnoxiously adorable with that tart tang. By the way, St. Clair implores you to use the best buttermilk you can find. We're making our own at home these days, and it's very good. So, yeah, we loved the French toast.</p>
<p>Turns out, there's a recipe for homemade buttermilk in the book, and I got the smug wiggles knowing I have already made my own. But it also turns out there's a recipe for butter. You have to have some good cream, and you have to have some good buttermilk.</p>
<p>We just made some butter today. I'll tell you about it soon. Taunt, taunt.</p>
<p>My only wish is that you explore this book a little. I selfishly want the author to do well, sales wise, so she'll write another one.</p>
<p>(Yeah, wackadoodle.)</p>
<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/700a6046ce935c1494da6e8baf39b5e8_zpsf08639f0.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/700a6046ce935c1494da6e8baf39b5e8_zpsf08639f0.jpg" /></a>
cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-52864435548357543432013-07-16T09:28:00.001-07:002013-07-16T10:46:21.865-07:00A Story of Color<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/41bf3d20fcc5aa143e85883421ea8c41_zps3a760b9e.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/41bf3d20fcc5aa143e85883421ea8c41_zps3a760b9e.jpg" /></a><p>I lived in Florida a few decades ago. Cranky had been appointed restaurant reviewer for The Orlando Sentinel, which sounded good enough to make us pack up and leave California for a while.</p>
<p>Sure, we were dubious about plunging ourselves into a whole new culture, and we arrived with prejudices. Those drawls! Those Dixie attitudes! Yeah, we were prejudiced against the white people (and we're white).</p>
<p>We made the best of it, though. We bought a house in Winter Park, a cutesy, snobby town of well-to-do smug folks. Oh, but it turned out there were black people in Winter Park, too. Shoved off into a pretty much segregated part of town. Totally segregated, actually. A friend of ours wanted to buy a house in that enclave, and her real estate agent refused to show her any.</p>
<p>Cranky and I liked to escape our smug neighborhood and go exploring. Sanford was a town or two away, and we found things to do there. There were definitely no gated communities in those days. Once, I stopped at a yard sale in Sanford and bought a green Depression glass measuring cup. It cost me two dollars (though the sellers had surely gotten it for free in a box of detergent back in the 1930s). The identical cup goes for about $30 these days on eBay. But such a special color.</p>
<p>We found a great restaurant in Sanford, Mother's Kitchen, where they made killer fried chicken. Right after you placed your order, you could hear the cook in the kitchen, hacking up a hen. Whack, whack, whack! Nice place.</p>
<p>In fact, Cranky decided to make Mother's Kitchen his first review for the paper. It would be a daring choice, picking a place outside the metropolitan miasma of Orlando and its toney environs. But the food was good, and Cranky wanted to make an impression.</p>
<p>Immediately after his review ran, the paper got a letter from a very angry reader. It would never be printed, it was so offensive. The writer had visited Mother's Kitchen, after "your reviewer bragged that place up," she wrote.</p>
<p>She was furious to discover that Mother was black. The whole restaurant was staffed by black people, though patrons of all colors were lovingly welcomed. Mother was a saint. She was also pastor of a church she had founded, and people felt really good in her care.</p>
<p>Well, not that toad who wrote the letter. "I almost went in there! It's a place no self-respecting white woman would go. You'd better keep an eye on that man."</p>
<p>Seems that, even today, things haven't changed enough there.</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-14042199597328575872013-07-14T11:50:00.000-07:002013-07-14T11:50:07.203-07:00Alors!<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/ab39a1c6ec1c8e8ce5d5e1e683672d0b_zps2d263335.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/ab39a1c6ec1c8e8ce5d5e1e683672d0b_zps2d263335.jpg" /></a><p>Aux barricades!</p>
<p>C'est tout.</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-89987760370373733122013-07-09T15:28:00.000-07:002013-07-09T17:16:27.098-07:00Salmon, Eh, La!<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/05e3d1ca5948cb40296ce66fc94de634_zps8e925f46.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/05e3d1ca5948cb40296ce66fc94de634_zps8e925f46.jpg" /></a><p>I got a frightening message from some blog or other that warned we'd better enjoy salmon while we can, in this soon-to-end season.</p>
<p>Eep! Soon to end! I'm really digging salmon these days. I looked at the California Department of Wildlife (or whatever it's called), and was assured that we could legally buy fresh, wild salmon until October or November. Whew.</p>
<p>This fresh, wild king salmon fillet was cooked to perfection. We were a little afraid it might be raw inside, but 1) underdone fish is fine, and, yet 2) it was soft and tender, may have continued cooking a little in its own warmth, and it was stupendous, not raw.</p>
<p>We used Jaden Hair's recipe from her new cookbook, <a href="http://www.steamykitchen.com/steamy-kitchen-cookbook">Steamy Kitchen’s Healthy Asian Favorites</a>, for a little teriyaki sauce. It appealed to me immensely because the sweetener specified is honey. I think there was also some mirin in there, and, frankly, it came out too sweet. That's just me; you might adore it. Well, we adored it too; just gonna adjust a little next time. I should add: It's really easy!</p>
<p>It was the most well-rounded meal I've eaten in ages, accompanied by steamed rice and cucumber salad. Full, burp. Happy.<p>
<p>So happy that salmon season isn't over yet.</p>
<p>And ya know what? I really like buying cookbooks written by my blogging pals.</p>
<p>PS: Don't pronounce the title of this post out loud.</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-51254135305065628712013-07-06T14:54:00.000-07:002013-07-07T20:04:59.436-07:00Blog Contagion<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/58050c4b54574a704c786a3895ae83fe_zpsbbaa3188.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/58050c4b54574a704c786a3895ae83fe_zpsbbaa3188.jpg" /></a><p>This is antique food, so I found an ancient snapshot-type frame for it. The preparation dates back to 2008 (that's antique), when everybody learned how to make <a href="http://madeater.blogspot.com/2008/07/cauliflower-steak-meme-of-2008.html">cauliflower steaks</a>. I had to play along, too. You know, way back then.</p>
<p>I really loved my cauliflower steak, back, oh, five years ago. And then I never made another one. I mean, it was good enough to eat, but I got this notion that it had been a fad, was passé, and I'd look horribly out of date. (Note to self: It's just food! You're all into your Green Goddess dressing and your Chicken Divan... That's old!)</p>
<p>So, not long ago, by means of blog contagion, I wanted to cook a cauliflower the way somebody or other had, roasted, whole, in the oven. It was new to me. It was modern! Pretty, browny, sort of stunning to look at.</p>
<p>We had the cauliflower in the fridge, but then, by blog contagion, I came across a condiment called muhammara, which I had never heard of. I Googled it, and found out I had, in fact, eaten it before when a guest brought some to my house. So that's what it was called. It's a mixture of roasted red bell peppers, chopped walnuts, bread crumbs, a chopped jalapeño, lemon juice, garlic and oil. We made some, and ate a little with bread. Terribly interesting.</p>
<p>Do you see where this is going? Yeah. We thought the leftover muhammara would be delicious with that cauliflower, but suddenly a whole, roasted cauliflower seemed wrong. Gross. Bulbulous.</p>
<p>We swallowed our pride. So steaks it is, simply prepared by browning both sides in a skillet with a little butter or oil. They get such a beautiful, toasty crunch on the edges. And they cook really fast, so keep a sharp knife handy to poke them to see how tender they are getting.</p>
<p>Then, warm up a little muhammara, which isn't usually done but nobody wanted cold sauce on warm food, and slather some on your outmoded cauliflower steaks. Try to live down the shame. But man, this is good.</p>
<p>Eat, enjoy, and remind yourself what a dope you are. Cauliflower steaks are officially back in the repertoire.</p>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-81405319733938826212013-07-04T22:29:00.003-07:002013-07-04T22:29:48.987-07:00Red, White, and a Little Blue<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/d6a9f9c64db10d7cd2c1695abf46bf88_zpsb266341b.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/d6a9f9c64db10d7cd2c1695abf46bf88_zpsb266341b.jpg" /></a><p>I was going to post a photo of a Fourth of July cocktail today, but I didn't get around to making one.</p>
<p>I even had the ingredients on hand, including blue sugar to rim the glass with. Cherries, to muddle. Ice is white, right? But, nah.</p>
<p>Didn't feel the love. Didn't even want a hot dog. It is beginning to look more and more as if Americans are turning the Fourth of July into el Cinco de Mayo. El Cuatro de Julio. Booze, baby, booze. And then light things on fire.</p>
<p>If you google Fourth of July cocktails, you'll get lists and lists of red, white and blue hooch, but nothing seems festive, patriotic. I mean, sure, why is a hot dog patriotic? So have at it, ya alkies.</p>
<p>I will say that I saw scads of red, white and blue desserts, mainly on TasteSpotting (and bravo, TS, for a clearly concerted effort, and very successful). Almost everything looked wonderful, and I don't even like dessert. Nice work, all you food blogger/chefs!</p>
<p>To make everything worse, fireworks are going off outside. The county fair is only a mile or so away, and it is pyrotechnics plus over there. And some of our neighbors are igniting loud, explosive things (and isn't this wildfire season, not allowed?) so our doggie is freaking out. She weathered her first three Independence Days, but this year she has caught the universal dog disease of Hatefireworksitis. We closed the windows (thank goodness it has cooled off considerably; it was in the 100s all day) and she is calmed down.</p>
<p>Anyway, there you have it. I promise more fun next time.</p>
cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-383458592473233382013-06-30T14:12:00.001-07:002013-06-30T16:38:54.701-07:00Food Should Be Pretty<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/ebe9ec970cf2b5d13b249cc9fc70c09c_zpsfb606476.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/ebe9ec970cf2b5d13b249cc9fc70c09c_zpsfb606476.jpg" /></a><p>I had been visiting a beautiful blog, <a href="http://www.latartinegourmande.com/">La Tartine Gourmande</a>, fairly often. I didn't know Cranky was looking over my shoulder and forming an opinion of it, too.</p>
<p>Favorable opinion, it turns out, because he sneaked off and bought the cookbook Béa had written and shot the photos for (she's really good).</p>
<p>I was pleased to death, and Cranky was so tickled with himself, he immediately went to the kitchen and cooked these gorgeous sweet potato pancakes. I don't even know what all the ingredients are. But, man, they were good.</p>
<p>It's such a thrill to eat food that's pleasing to the eye, and Béa always makes her dishes look special. As for her recipes, I believe she can do no wrong, but we haven't tried anything else from the book yet. (You can go visit her blog for recipes she publishes there; she's also got another cookbook in the works. While you're at the website, look for the picture of the book on the left and click for more info.)</p>
<p>Well, lookie here: Me endorsing a cookbook! Yeah, we use 'em once in a while. And I got another one I want to tell you about soon. It's making me crazy with happiness. Crazy. Cray-cray. Because I'm mad and I eat.<p/>cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-14606198163033159142013-06-26T15:32:00.000-07:002013-06-26T21:31:37.575-07:00El Coctel de Shrimpo<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/889754483ee9669a0df91d60729139bb_zps7521a8de.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/889754483ee9669a0df91d60729139bb_zps7521a8de.jpg" /></a><p>This shrimp cocktail is going around in the foodosphere. Originally developed by Elise at <a href="http://www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/mexican_shrimp_cocktail/">SimplyRecipes</a>, it's a Mexican-style version that won't have you feeling like one of those insufferable old preppies in the trousers embroidered with <a href="http://www.google.com/search?q=whale+embroidered+pants&client=safari&hl=en&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=eb_LUd3bNIikyQGS5oDgDA&ved=0CAkQ_AUoAA&biw=1024&bih=690">whales</a>.</p>
<p>No, it's more like a chunky shrimp gazpacho, with avocado, pieces of tomato (and juice), onion, cucumber and hot sauce. Cilantro! Elise added ketchup to hers, but man, I just couldn't go there.</p>
<p>I'd say it's well suited to infinite variation and improvising. A little celery? Go for it. Some ground cumin, because that's the way you roll? Roll on.</p>
<p>It's so summery. And with occasional ad libs now and then, I think I'd like to have some all summer long.</p>
<p>Hasta la vista, baby!</p>
cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-53886054249988394312013-06-24T14:53:00.000-07:002013-06-24T15:11:53.345-07:00Just Shoot Me, All Right?<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/1da9cc65fe054e5bdf8ab4298c7ecfc0_zps159d9010.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/1da9cc65fe054e5bdf8ab4298c7ecfc0_zps159d9010.jpg" width="400px" /></a></p><p>
I should probably be a little embarrassed. There was Bisquick on the premises. *faceofshame* And I bought the Bisquick especially for this recipe; thank goodness it comes in small boxes.</p>
<p><i>Recipe? Did she say recipe?</i></p>
<p>Well, yes, but I just scribbled the recipe on a piece of paper from an Internet page, so does that still count? See, it was baking. Science. You gotta follow the rules. And it sounded like a lot of fun.</p>
<p>Inside those little muffins is a center of meat, vegetables and gravy. We had some chicken, and added peas and onions and mushrooms to it (chopped chicken, hm?). Cooked this in grease until just right, and set aside in a bowl. Stirred up a bit of gravy from the pan drippings, augmented by an absurdly wonderful, bizarre, and probably illegal Shepherd's Pie flavoring mix from a foil packet. C'mon, I was already breaking the law with the Bisquick. The road to perdition is tasty.</p>
<p>It's so easy. You mix two beaten eggs with half a cup of milk and half a cup of Bisquick. Stir, blend, lumps are OK.</p>
<p>Put a tablespoon of the batter into the bottom of six muffin pan holes, ungreased. Toss in some of the filling (not much, a tablespoon or so). Top each with another tablespoon of batter. And don't worry; this weird mess knows how to squish around in there, forming solid walls of "muffin" surrounding the filling. When you pop them out after baking for maybe half an hour at 350°F, they come out intact.</p>
<p>And then you eat them. Or you could save them for rewarming later, when life is too hard and you need food. We ate 'em.</p>
<p>The cooked dough is eggy and riddled with bubbles. A little tender, not chewy. Moist, not — well — otherwise. (We can talk about my flagrant use of the word "moist" in comments, if we must.) And those nuggets of food inside the food are such a pleasant discovery. You could make any filling of your choice: beef, tofu, all veg, just mushrooms, maybe even sweet things like fruit and jam and yogurt. I'm probably going to experiment some more.</p>
<p>Because the damned box of Bisquick isn't empty yet.</p>
cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-16910836878641239562013-06-19T16:41:00.001-07:002013-06-19T21:48:17.014-07:00Tu Food Es Mi Food<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/9f8aca6c341684bfabaaa623adbb78fd_zps95810229.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/9f8aca6c341684bfabaaa623adbb78fd_zps95810229.jpg" /></a><p>One of the reasons I get so bored with food blogs is that it seems everyone is copying each other.</p>
<p>They are. How many photos have you had to look at featuring a stack of cookies, tied in twine? A cruddy wooden board that the dishes rest on, over a folded bit of floral fabric? The patch of burlap. The little glass milk bottle, with swirly-striped paper straws. The teeny cake stand. Artful sprinklings of fresh leaves, everywhere.</p>
<p>You are copying each other, and I found the online store where you buy all your identical props!</p>
<p>Recipes are copied, too. I recently cooked from a recipe suggested by a fellow blogger, and credited her on my blog. Only to find that the actual, perhaps original, recipe is sourced from somebody else, and it's all over the Internet. Legitimate ethical dilemma here: Was I copying the blogger? I took a picture of my results and did an enthusiastic post. I definitely attributed my food to the blogger whose recipe I used. I wasn't claiming originality. But I did feel a little bad about her not crediting her source.</p>
<p>If you visit Tastespotting much, you'll run across blatant ripoffs, repeats, robberies, and no attribution. Suddenly everybody is creating — originally! — an asparagus tart in puff pastry. Shaved asparagus salad. Boozy blueberry limeade (it's everywhere). Cauliflower crust pizza. No credits anywhere.</p>
<p>I even think I've been copied, though I wouldn't say any of my recipes have been plagiarized. (This is not a recipe blog!) I've come across things that remind me of food I created for this blog, in some cases, YEARS ago. Didn't I invent radishes on tartines? (You know what, I'm not that crazy. I probably didn't invent radish tartines.) Didn't I invent homemade ranch dressing (and this time, I'm pretty sure I've been copied.)</p>
<p>How many food bloggers besides me, amateurs mostly, would dream up buttermilk and fruit juice popsicles? Cucumber juice summer drinks? Watermelon juice summer drinks?</p>
<p>OK, calm me down, people. Thanks. It's not remotely impossible that people might come up with similar ideas, unbeknownst to each other. But the dishes I'm talking about from my blog were posted years ago, and right this minute there's a huge flurry of just those dishes, my dishes, in the foodosphere.</p>
<p>I sound really paranoid, don't I? Nah. Besides, I think I just solved the issue. If my creations were posted years ago, why did it take until now for people to find them? I wasn't copied. Probably. :)</p>
<p>I will leave you with this selfish discovery. I DID invent those dishes (even if tons of cooks already also had, historically). I was original! I thought. So was everybody else.</p>
<p>But you know what? For your own good, everybody, please don't copy that burrito bowl recipe that's proliferating all over cyberspace. What's a burrito bowl? A burrito is supposed to be wrapped in a flour tortilla. No, I get it. They're all copying Chipotle's.</p>
cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12774302.post-59840007781328210962013-06-17T17:51:00.000-07:002013-07-16T21:50:53.958-07:00Would You Eat This?<a href="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/c88619ae-e682-4620-a640-28f3dd86f9c4_zpsf2326fce.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0"; width=400px src="http://i1362.photobucket.com/albums/r699/Horsecow2/c88619ae-e682-4620-a640-28f3dd86f9c4_zpsf2326fce.jpg" /></a><p>A long time ago, my husband was the restaurant critic for The Orlando Sentinel. A rather blighted city for dining, but some wonderful, local finds were to be found, fortunately, and we found them. Most joints were chains, pretty much like Applebee's: bar, bar snacks, blah. There was one I remember, named O'Hooligan's or O'Flannagan's or something. "Come! Have fun! Maybe get laid!"</p>
<p>One time, for April Fool's Day, Cranky decided to write about a "restaurant" he had discovered, called O'Notthisagain's. He lovingly crafted descriptions of this fictitious eatery, calling it a "sippin', suppin' and sidlinuppin' place." Peanut shells on the floor, posters of doors on Irish houses, stained glass lamps. Ferns.</p>
<p>Nobody in their right mind would want to eat there. Except, maybe, people in Orlando.</p>
<p>Yeah, so on the menu at O'Notthisagain's, Cranky lied, was a fabulous bar snack called "potachos." It was baked potato skins filled with nacho fixings. This was hugely hilarious back then, because although bar snacks in chain restaurants can be quite hideous, you really wouldn't eat potachos. Ew. There was no such thing in the real world. He was just trying to be funny.</p>
<p>His story runs in the paper, and suddenly he gets angry mail and phone calls from readers. "You didn't say where this place is! What's the address, schmuck?"</p>
<p>Groan. Laugh, a little. Cry.</p>
<p>Decades later, Tastespotting is invented, and I spend a bit of time now and then looking at the meals created by food bloggers all over the world. Oh my god, these people are abusing degustation. Fake tacos, reinvented salads (everybody put strawberries in your green salads. Everybody!), peculiar cupcakes. I'll say, seriously, I do find some wonderful things there once in a while, but the pseudo creativity of some of these "cooks" is almost nauseating.</p>
<p>I mean, just the other day, I saw a recipe for potachos! They weren't called that, but they were exactly what Cranky had fabricated for his April Fool's Day piece, all those years back. Urghhh.</p>
<p>You know. And we made some.</p>
<p>Scraped out baked potato skins. Lined with a layer of refried beans, topped with grated cheese, and broiled. Covered with homemade salsa and a splorp of sour cream.</p>
<p>Pretty good.</p>
<p>Not fooling.</p>
cookiecrumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00741894180391507513noreply@blogger.com9