I like the "fancy" bread. I like the crusty, artisanal, no-preservative, full of nooks-and-crannies-style bread so much so that I can hardly believe it when I see someone buying the white, fluffy, pasty stuff. Even mi esposo, whose bachelor eating habits were highly suspect, had decent taste in bread. He bought white bread for his sandwiches, but he found a better quality bread that had a LITTLE tooth to it.
In some cases I understand it's not taste, it's finance. The good stuff costs more...often way more. Not everybody can afford the outstanding bread that'll take the better part of a fiver away from their wallet.
I'm one of those people more often than I'd like to admit. But I have never been willing to buy junk bread. So, I learned to bake bread. It didn't take me long to figure out that making bread at home would cost about $.50 a loaf instead of $3.99. Even if my bread wasn't perfect, I'd still have something without additives or preservatives or a weirdly unnatural and spongy consistency. And I could still afford to buy a piece of protein or some fresh produce.
Because my introduction to bread making was a desperate act of frugality, I still do not own a stand mixer or bread machine or any special bake-ware. I used (and continue to use) the limited, but adequate tools I have on hand and am able to put together a nice, crusty Country Italian bread with relative ease.
It really is easy. The only catch is that you have to be around. The bread might rise in a half an hour or it might take more than an hour. But you'll have to be there to punch it back down and let it start to rise one more time. Then you have to be around to keep an eye on the oven. It might be done in 20 minutes...might be a half hour. So, if you are a guy or gal-on-the-go, you might not become a regular baker.
That's OK. But I do think everyone should try to make a loaf of bread, even if it's just once..just to have the skill in their bag of tricks. That way, when the wolf is at the door bearing Millbrook, you can send him away with a baguette.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Just look at winter (and shoveling) as a freebie
Shoveling is a brutal workout. Pretty much everyone understands that old men and heart patients should not even be allowed to own a shovel. It is too much work for them and can be deadly. The rest of us, if we are so inclined, get out backsides handed to us...on the end of a shovel.
We have had PLENTY of shoveling to do this winter. I, for one, have shoveled the driveway three (count 'em) THREE times today. I can't really complain, though. I like to think of shoveling as a gift that allows me to "earn" things.
I shoveled twice in the morning. This "earned" me lunch. I met a friend at the C.Hts. Stone Oven (http://stone-oven.com/) Well-made bread, tasty sandwiches, and always really nice people behind the counter. Yep... shoveling was worth lunch.
I had planned on having cauliflower au gratin as a side dish with tonight's dinner, but was thinking about how nice a hearty curry would be. So, I made a sauce Mornay (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mornay_sauce) and added two heaping tablespoons of Patak's curry paste (http://www.pataks.com/), and some fresh chopped mint. Delicious as it was, that sauce is not going to make the cover of "Cooking Light" magazine anytime soon...we're talking rich, especially since my base white sauce had a goodly amount of half and half in it.
I have to admit that the fat content of my curried sauce Mornay had me fretting a little bit. As I recently mentioned, I'd like to lose that office fanny I developed. So I talked myself into a third round of evening shoveling. It was the perfect antidote. I huffed and I puffed and got little beads of perspiration around my stocking cap. So, I have now "earned" the right to release any lingering guilt I felt by so enriching my cauliflower side dish. Every bit of that round of shoveling was certainly worth that sauce.
So, I might be the only person in Cleveland NOT complaining about the snow.
Well...there's one more person not complaining:
http://twuntymcslore.blogspot.com
(Check out the impromptu Cleveland Hts. dog sledding adventure!)
We have had PLENTY of shoveling to do this winter. I, for one, have shoveled the driveway three (count 'em) THREE times today. I can't really complain, though. I like to think of shoveling as a gift that allows me to "earn" things.
I shoveled twice in the morning. This "earned" me lunch. I met a friend at the C.Hts. Stone Oven (http://stone-oven.com/) Well-made bread, tasty sandwiches, and always really nice people behind the counter. Yep... shoveling was worth lunch.
I had planned on having cauliflower au gratin as a side dish with tonight's dinner, but was thinking about how nice a hearty curry would be. So, I made a sauce Mornay (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mornay_sauce) and added two heaping tablespoons of Patak's curry paste (http://www.pataks.com/), and some fresh chopped mint. Delicious as it was, that sauce is not going to make the cover of "Cooking Light" magazine anytime soon...we're talking rich, especially since my base white sauce had a goodly amount of half and half in it.
I have to admit that the fat content of my curried sauce Mornay had me fretting a little bit. As I recently mentioned, I'd like to lose that office fanny I developed. So I talked myself into a third round of evening shoveling. It was the perfect antidote. I huffed and I puffed and got little beads of perspiration around my stocking cap. So, I have now "earned" the right to release any lingering guilt I felt by so enriching my cauliflower side dish. Every bit of that round of shoveling was certainly worth that sauce.
So, I might be the only person in Cleveland NOT complaining about the snow.
Well...there's one more person not complaining:
http://twuntymcslore.blogspot.com
(Check out the impromptu Cleveland Hts. dog sledding adventure!)
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
It's Not Diet, It's DELMONICO
Before I returned to cooking professionally, I took a sedentary job. During the year and a half I spent at a sit-down job, I developed what my father calls "secretary's spread". All that hoo-hah about "never trust a skinny cook" is complete nonsense to me. I know some FABULOUS chefs who look like they could use a milkshake.
Now that I am cooking again, I aspire to be a skinny cook, and defintely not to wear the secretary's spread of the cubicle from which I just defected.
Now, I'm not giving diet advice here, I'm just telling you my opinion/experience... And as a child of the 1970's, I find the 70's crash diet culture to be a sterling means for shocking my (paunchy) system back to the reality that it needs fresh produce, high-quality protein, and smaller portions. Then, armed with the victory of a couple lost pounds and the high of good nutrition, I can leave the diet and begin to navigate the everyday landscape with the ability to make more correct nutritive turns rather than steering toward dead-ends and doughnut holes.
My ABSOLUTE favorite crash diet for this effect is none other than the famous Scarsdale Diet (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scarsdale_medical_diet). I am wild about grapefruit and steak, two selections that make frequent appearances on Dr. Tarnower's menu, so I rather enjoy the food and I don't really look at it as some scary deprivation diet.
On my "diet" tonight, I had a gorgeous, grilled Delmonico Steak (http://www.gourmetsleuth.com/Articles/Cooking-Tips--Techniques-642/beef-cuts.aspx) and a sweet/sour raw broccoli salad. Oh, good heavens was that good! I think the Delmonico usually refers to a rib cut, and as it has some heavy marbling, it is heartbreakingly tender. I really like Zagara's Delmonico Steaks (http://www.zagarasmarketplace.com/our_meats.htm) and I think they price their meat very competitively, too. I just seasoned the beef with salt, garlic, and fresh-ground pepper and it was absolutely perfect. The tenderness of the beef was a really nice contrast with the crunchy broccoli.
A simple piece of grilled protein and absolutely fresh vegetables, prepared raw with all of their vitamins intact... now WHY do diets have a bad rap??! Shouldn't we be eating (moderately) this way everyday?? I feel like a million bucks on my 1970's diet and I can practically feel my Charlie's Angels-style bod emerging.
Tennis, anyone?
Bosley? Bosley??
Now that I am cooking again, I aspire to be a skinny cook, and defintely not to wear the secretary's spread of the cubicle from which I just defected.
Now, I'm not giving diet advice here, I'm just telling you my opinion/experience... And as a child of the 1970's, I find the 70's crash diet culture to be a sterling means for shocking my (paunchy) system back to the reality that it needs fresh produce, high-quality protein, and smaller portions. Then, armed with the victory of a couple lost pounds and the high of good nutrition, I can leave the diet and begin to navigate the everyday landscape with the ability to make more correct nutritive turns rather than steering toward dead-ends and doughnut holes.
My ABSOLUTE favorite crash diet for this effect is none other than the famous Scarsdale Diet (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scarsdale_medical_diet). I am wild about grapefruit and steak, two selections that make frequent appearances on Dr. Tarnower's menu, so I rather enjoy the food and I don't really look at it as some scary deprivation diet.
On my "diet" tonight, I had a gorgeous, grilled Delmonico Steak (http://www.gourmetsleuth.com/Articles/Cooking-Tips--Techniques-642/beef-cuts.aspx) and a sweet/sour raw broccoli salad. Oh, good heavens was that good! I think the Delmonico usually refers to a rib cut, and as it has some heavy marbling, it is heartbreakingly tender. I really like Zagara's Delmonico Steaks (http://www.zagarasmarketplace.com/our_meats.htm) and I think they price their meat very competitively, too. I just seasoned the beef with salt, garlic, and fresh-ground pepper and it was absolutely perfect. The tenderness of the beef was a really nice contrast with the crunchy broccoli.
A simple piece of grilled protein and absolutely fresh vegetables, prepared raw with all of their vitamins intact... now WHY do diets have a bad rap??! Shouldn't we be eating (moderately) this way everyday?? I feel like a million bucks on my 1970's diet and I can practically feel my Charlie's Angels-style bod emerging.
Tennis, anyone?
Bosley? Bosley??
Sunday, February 21, 2010
The Philosophy of Hossenfeffer
Many years ago, I read a fable that explained why the rabbit had the gift of speed. In the story, the rabbit had deliberately disobeyed God or affronted Him in some way. God was merciful and spared the rabbit, but to punish him for his great sin God deemed that the rabbit should be everyone's prey and would have to spend his life on the run. Again, in His mercy, God made sure the rabbit would have the gift of speed.
It's sort of brutal, as fables and fairy tales often are.
Indulge me in another memory and I promise I will get to the heart of the matter for this post. In his book "The Soul of a Chef" (http://www.amazon.com/Soul-Chef-Journey-Toward-Perfection/dp/0141001895) author Michael Ruhlman spends a good 1/3 of the book giving background on the famed French Laundry chef, Thomas Keller. What impressed me most about Keller was the time he spent raising swine and then having to personally slaughter and butcher animals with whom he had developed a sort of relationship. He said that it ingrained within him a deep gratitude for the animals who make it possible for us to eat. His words were philosophical, almost spiritual, and he had gained a sort of humility from his experience.
Fast forward to my dinner table tonight. Ever since having what I think was called "Rabbit Two Ways" at the East 4th St. Lola location when it was very new digs, I have wanted to try to make rabbit at home. Inspired by some rabbit in the meat cases at the West Side Market, I decided to give it a try. I worked loosely from Michael Symon's recipe for braised rabbit thighs in his cookbook "Live to Cook", but also drew on my experience with pheasant. I was betting that pheasant and rabbit would cook very much the same, namely, the breast meat can be lovely if not overdone because it is so scanty and so lean and the leg meat is almost useless unless it is braised or deep-fried because it clings to the bone with everything it's got...it requires moist heat to get it to release. Symon's recipe had a standout ingredient of a hot pepper which mellowed as the rabbit thighs braised slowly in a low oven, but still offered a nice warmth. Of course, the fresh orange and savory olives added a lot, too. Symon didn't have a recipe for the rabbit breast (or is it a saddle?), so I marinated it in Greek yogurt with loads of mint and a little garlic, then tossed it in some breadcrumbs, and finished it quickly in a saute pan. I put both cuts of rabbit with some of the braising liquid over creamy polenta and served it with baby carrots. I was really pleased with the whole meal.
I do have to say that undertaking to cook a rabbit was a little intimidating, but thinking of it like pheasant or lean game helped. I've never cut up a whole rabbit like I have a chicken, but I just followed the bones with a sharp knife and was able to cleanly cut plenty of meat off of 1 rabbit. I would say 1 rabbit would feed 2 people really well (with leftovers) or 4 people with smaller appetites.
But this brings me back to Keller and the fable of the rabbit's gift of speed. I just feel sorry for the little bunny, cursed by God to be everyone's prey. And my sympathy is ridiculously unbalanced, since I have somehow managed to make peace with lamb and even veal on infrequent occasions. But I would like to keep that attitude of gratitude front and center, especially so with rabbit.
And, as I sit here writing this, maybe the way I do this is by reflecting on the gravity of the order of survival every single time I eat a meat-based entree. Maybe I do this by refraining from overindulging...it is not fair to be gluttonous when something laid down its life for you. Maybe I do this by sharing meals with others who may have a harder time coming by nutritious sustenance. Maybe I follow the pattern of those who recommend eating only once a day in order to have a real sense of hunger each night, ensuring gratitude for every mouthful I have waited so long for.
I am so very lucky.
Goodnight noises everywhere.
It's sort of brutal, as fables and fairy tales often are.
Indulge me in another memory and I promise I will get to the heart of the matter for this post. In his book "The Soul of a Chef" (http://www.amazon.com/Soul-Chef-Journey-Toward-Perfection/dp/0141001895) author Michael Ruhlman spends a good 1/3 of the book giving background on the famed French Laundry chef, Thomas Keller. What impressed me most about Keller was the time he spent raising swine and then having to personally slaughter and butcher animals with whom he had developed a sort of relationship. He said that it ingrained within him a deep gratitude for the animals who make it possible for us to eat. His words were philosophical, almost spiritual, and he had gained a sort of humility from his experience.
Fast forward to my dinner table tonight. Ever since having what I think was called "Rabbit Two Ways" at the East 4th St. Lola location when it was very new digs, I have wanted to try to make rabbit at home. Inspired by some rabbit in the meat cases at the West Side Market, I decided to give it a try. I worked loosely from Michael Symon's recipe for braised rabbit thighs in his cookbook "Live to Cook", but also drew on my experience with pheasant. I was betting that pheasant and rabbit would cook very much the same, namely, the breast meat can be lovely if not overdone because it is so scanty and so lean and the leg meat is almost useless unless it is braised or deep-fried because it clings to the bone with everything it's got...it requires moist heat to get it to release. Symon's recipe had a standout ingredient of a hot pepper which mellowed as the rabbit thighs braised slowly in a low oven, but still offered a nice warmth. Of course, the fresh orange and savory olives added a lot, too. Symon didn't have a recipe for the rabbit breast (or is it a saddle?), so I marinated it in Greek yogurt with loads of mint and a little garlic, then tossed it in some breadcrumbs, and finished it quickly in a saute pan. I put both cuts of rabbit with some of the braising liquid over creamy polenta and served it with baby carrots. I was really pleased with the whole meal.
I do have to say that undertaking to cook a rabbit was a little intimidating, but thinking of it like pheasant or lean game helped. I've never cut up a whole rabbit like I have a chicken, but I just followed the bones with a sharp knife and was able to cleanly cut plenty of meat off of 1 rabbit. I would say 1 rabbit would feed 2 people really well (with leftovers) or 4 people with smaller appetites.
But this brings me back to Keller and the fable of the rabbit's gift of speed. I just feel sorry for the little bunny, cursed by God to be everyone's prey. And my sympathy is ridiculously unbalanced, since I have somehow managed to make peace with lamb and even veal on infrequent occasions. But I would like to keep that attitude of gratitude front and center, especially so with rabbit.
And, as I sit here writing this, maybe the way I do this is by reflecting on the gravity of the order of survival every single time I eat a meat-based entree. Maybe I do this by refraining from overindulging...it is not fair to be gluttonous when something laid down its life for you. Maybe I do this by sharing meals with others who may have a harder time coming by nutritious sustenance. Maybe I follow the pattern of those who recommend eating only once a day in order to have a real sense of hunger each night, ensuring gratitude for every mouthful I have waited so long for.
I am so very lucky.
Goodnight noises everywhere.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Pot au Feu and Other Slow-Cooked Beef
Y'ever have one of those "meh...feh" kind of days? Well, today was that way for me. I didn't sleep well and when I woke up, the thick, impassable cloud cover (the kind that stays all day) left me mentally demotivated and physically cold. I fought hard against the ennui. I made sure my normal routine went off like German clockwork, had a sweet little Valentine's Day card exchange with mi esposo...and I even got myself suited up and went "sort-of" jogging at Lakeview Cemetery (the ankle I sprained this fall is fine while walking but I still run with a pathetic, reeling gait)
Lakeview was a highlight, of sorts, to the day. I'm honestly not nurturing some macabre streak by lurking in the local cemetery...the whole layout was set up in the 1800's to double as a park (they used to take streetcars full of city-dwelling picnickers from the heart of downtown Cleveland out there for a Sunday getaway), and a lovely park it is. Lakeview Cemetery (http://www.lakeviewcemetery.com/interest.html) is a veritable arboretum and bird sanctuary. I love the stillness...I only saw one other jogger and a hard-working red-tailed hawk on the hunt. On my way back to the car, I happened on Elliot Ness' final resting place. I didn't even know he was buried there.
Home again, I couldn't shake the chill of the afternoon outdoors. I was certain Pot au Feu would be the remedy. Pot au Feu which translates to something like "pot on the fire" is a traditional French recipe that is sort of a cross between corned beef and Yankee Pot Roast. I've never made it before, but figured I should know my way around all the French classics, so I today was the day to put this in my repertoire. Of course, the house smelled divine, with beef shoulder and a host of root vegetables simmering away on the stovetop for the better part of 2 1/2 hours.
So how is it like and unlike corned beef and pot roast? Well, it is generously salted like corned beef, boiled like corned beef, and NOT served within its own cooking liquid like corned beef. It is a different cut of beef, though. Similar to pot roast, the cooking liquid is best enhanced with some wine and garlic. Pot Roasts can be made from a variety of beef cuts, but often uses chuck or rump roast...and I find the best pot roasts are done in a low-temp oven or in a crock pot. And of course, pot roast uses less cooking liquid which you can further reduce and thicken into a gravy before serving. I think that Pot au Feu actually cooks out to be fairly leaner than both other recipes, as well. Corned beef is often left with a generous amount of fat on it for flavor and pot roast relies on the fat in the meat to break down and tenderize the otherwise tough cut as it slow-cooks. With the Pot au Feu, I trimmed my beef before cooking and skimmed my cooking liquid throughout. It was quite lean but still adequately tender.
But the main difference between Pot au Feu and those other famous slow-cooked beef recipes is the dijon-horseradish sauce served with the beef. The sauce really made the dish, but I would actually plan on being sort of miserly with the sauce next time, or weakening it a bit. Dijon and horseradish both have a tendency to overpower...and I like to really taste the beef, especially if I just spent 2 1/2 hours tending to it. And in the French tradition, I have saved the cooking broth. That's a protein-rich yet light lunch for later in the week. (or for the dogs...they're spoiled, you know)
Did Pot au Feu cure my winter doldrums? No, I'm still having one of those lazy days. But I'm glad I now have another variation on the slow-cooked beef theme in my recipe book. Plus, you get to feel a little fancy and Continental when you say you are making, "Pot au Feu"...it sounds pretty grand, although (shhh!) it couldn't be easier to do. And finally, I know I ate a protein-rich, veggie-rich dinner made from scratch that will nutritionally bolster me to deal with the frozen Cleveland landscape again tomorrow with better energy.
Lakeview was a highlight, of sorts, to the day. I'm honestly not nurturing some macabre streak by lurking in the local cemetery...the whole layout was set up in the 1800's to double as a park (they used to take streetcars full of city-dwelling picnickers from the heart of downtown Cleveland out there for a Sunday getaway), and a lovely park it is. Lakeview Cemetery (http://www.lakeviewcemetery.com/interest.html) is a veritable arboretum and bird sanctuary. I love the stillness...I only saw one other jogger and a hard-working red-tailed hawk on the hunt. On my way back to the car, I happened on Elliot Ness' final resting place. I didn't even know he was buried there.
Home again, I couldn't shake the chill of the afternoon outdoors. I was certain Pot au Feu would be the remedy. Pot au Feu which translates to something like "pot on the fire" is a traditional French recipe that is sort of a cross between corned beef and Yankee Pot Roast. I've never made it before, but figured I should know my way around all the French classics, so I today was the day to put this in my repertoire. Of course, the house smelled divine, with beef shoulder and a host of root vegetables simmering away on the stovetop for the better part of 2 1/2 hours.
So how is it like and unlike corned beef and pot roast? Well, it is generously salted like corned beef, boiled like corned beef, and NOT served within its own cooking liquid like corned beef. It is a different cut of beef, though. Similar to pot roast, the cooking liquid is best enhanced with some wine and garlic. Pot Roasts can be made from a variety of beef cuts, but often uses chuck or rump roast...and I find the best pot roasts are done in a low-temp oven or in a crock pot. And of course, pot roast uses less cooking liquid which you can further reduce and thicken into a gravy before serving. I think that Pot au Feu actually cooks out to be fairly leaner than both other recipes, as well. Corned beef is often left with a generous amount of fat on it for flavor and pot roast relies on the fat in the meat to break down and tenderize the otherwise tough cut as it slow-cooks. With the Pot au Feu, I trimmed my beef before cooking and skimmed my cooking liquid throughout. It was quite lean but still adequately tender.
But the main difference between Pot au Feu and those other famous slow-cooked beef recipes is the dijon-horseradish sauce served with the beef. The sauce really made the dish, but I would actually plan on being sort of miserly with the sauce next time, or weakening it a bit. Dijon and horseradish both have a tendency to overpower...and I like to really taste the beef, especially if I just spent 2 1/2 hours tending to it. And in the French tradition, I have saved the cooking broth. That's a protein-rich yet light lunch for later in the week. (or for the dogs...they're spoiled, you know)
Did Pot au Feu cure my winter doldrums? No, I'm still having one of those lazy days. But I'm glad I now have another variation on the slow-cooked beef theme in my recipe book. Plus, you get to feel a little fancy and Continental when you say you are making, "Pot au Feu"...it sounds pretty grand, although (shhh!) it couldn't be easier to do. And finally, I know I ate a protein-rich, veggie-rich dinner made from scratch that will nutritionally bolster me to deal with the frozen Cleveland landscape again tomorrow with better energy.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Cook's Day Off
Esposo wanted to go to Lelolai on W. 25th St. for a big sandwich. I agreed on the condition that he would let me ogle the fish heads at the West Side Market afterward. We had a deal.
Lelolai (www.lelolaibakery.com) specializes in Spanish desserts, but are also famous for their over-stuffed Cuban sandwiches. And judging from the perfect looking empanadas, succulent pulled pork, and yucca al ajillo, they are able to deliver a pan-Latin experience.
As I barrelled through a cup of hot and garlicky yucca while sitting next to a table of regulars, it occurred to me that I love how really good food in Cleveland is often this easy, this affordable, and this comfortable.
So, on to the Market. While opening the doors to the West Side Market (www.westsidemarket.org, I asked mi esposo if he had ever been here. He hadn't, and watching him go absolutely awe-struck at all the sights, sounds, and smells was like being there for the first time again myself.
A couple of years ago, I went to visit some friends in London who insisted I would love the Food Halls at Harrod's (http://www.luxist.com/2009/11/15/harrods-food-hall-history-opulence-and-grandeur/) While I will grant that Harrod's is less elbow-to-elbow and "veddy" pretty and tidy, it can't hold a candle to the humble West Side Market in terms of gorgeous meats and fresh baked goods. We really ARE lucky to have this super-cool institution plugging away in our humble city.
I'd love to tell you I do all my shopping at the West Side Market, but I'd be lying. I live less than a mile from an amazing local grocer, and well, that's easier. But I do love it, and being there, reminded me that I should do some of my shopping there some of the time. So, another visit to the Market next week will be on tap for next week, especially because I saw some particularly good-looking rabbit (which is NOT easy to find at the grocery store) and I think that braised rabbit and asparagus might be a good prelude to spring....Michael Symon has a recipe for rabbit legs in his new cookbook "Live to Cook" (http://www.randomhouse.com/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9780307453655)
so I may just have to play around with his good ideas....
So, I haven't made a darn thing today except for my cup of coffee but I'm feeling completely fulfilled in terms of my joyful exploration of food.
Lelolai (www.lelolaibakery.com) specializes in Spanish desserts, but are also famous for their over-stuffed Cuban sandwiches. And judging from the perfect looking empanadas, succulent pulled pork, and yucca al ajillo, they are able to deliver a pan-Latin experience.
As I barrelled through a cup of hot and garlicky yucca while sitting next to a table of regulars, it occurred to me that I love how really good food in Cleveland is often this easy, this affordable, and this comfortable.
So, on to the Market. While opening the doors to the West Side Market (www.westsidemarket.org, I asked mi esposo if he had ever been here. He hadn't, and watching him go absolutely awe-struck at all the sights, sounds, and smells was like being there for the first time again myself.
A couple of years ago, I went to visit some friends in London who insisted I would love the Food Halls at Harrod's (http://www.luxist.com/2009/11/15/harrods-food-hall-history-opulence-and-grandeur/) While I will grant that Harrod's is less elbow-to-elbow and "veddy" pretty and tidy, it can't hold a candle to the humble West Side Market in terms of gorgeous meats and fresh baked goods. We really ARE lucky to have this super-cool institution plugging away in our humble city.
I'd love to tell you I do all my shopping at the West Side Market, but I'd be lying. I live less than a mile from an amazing local grocer, and well, that's easier. But I do love it, and being there, reminded me that I should do some of my shopping there some of the time. So, another visit to the Market next week will be on tap for next week, especially because I saw some particularly good-looking rabbit (which is NOT easy to find at the grocery store) and I think that braised rabbit and asparagus might be a good prelude to spring....Michael Symon has a recipe for rabbit legs in his new cookbook "Live to Cook" (http://www.randomhouse.com/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9780307453655)
so I may just have to play around with his good ideas....
So, I haven't made a darn thing today except for my cup of coffee but I'm feeling completely fulfilled in terms of my joyful exploration of food.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
A Perfect Winter Saturday
I'm through complaining about the snow. All my complaining never hastens the melting anyway. So, when I awakened to another half-foot yesterday, I bundled up in my mukluks and headed to the Metroparks with the dog for some fresh air and Vitamin D-packed sunshine. (I try to get outside for 20 minutes every time the sun makes an appearance in cloudy Cleveland...Vitamin D is SO important and lifts your spirits. Read more here: http://www.webmd.com/diet/vitamin-d-deficiency)
Happy and a little bit tired from the hike, I dug out some old records from the 1970's and set out to make Beef Wellington. I had Saturday evening guests coming and I wanted to make something really special. Armed with a copy of Julia Child's "Mastering French Cooking Vol II", a whole host of variations on the Beef Wellington theme I found on the internet, and a day's wages worth of beef tenderloin from Heinen's (I LOVE that Heinen's http://www.heinens.com/ is totally committed to using only certified hormone-free purveyors), I got down to brass tacks.
Early Blondie was cranking at full volume in the background, flour was flying as puff pastry was rolled out, the aroma of seared beef, shallots, and mushrooms filled the air, and as I looked out the kitchen window at the big pines frosted with snow, I couldn't imagine a better way to spend a 15-degree winter day.
AND...all's well that end's well. Our friends brought their two dogs to romp with ours, as well a bottle of a fantastic dry red wine (http://www.treasurehunterwines.com/about.htm) that tasted like it was custom-vinted just for our meal. With four dogs in the house and Beef Wellington on the menu, we DID have to scold off some beggars in the dining room, but it was a small price to pay for a perfect ending to a perfect winter Saturday.
Happy and a little bit tired from the hike, I dug out some old records from the 1970's and set out to make Beef Wellington. I had Saturday evening guests coming and I wanted to make something really special. Armed with a copy of Julia Child's "Mastering French Cooking Vol II", a whole host of variations on the Beef Wellington theme I found on the internet, and a day's wages worth of beef tenderloin from Heinen's (I LOVE that Heinen's http://www.heinens.com/ is totally committed to using only certified hormone-free purveyors), I got down to brass tacks.
Early Blondie was cranking at full volume in the background, flour was flying as puff pastry was rolled out, the aroma of seared beef, shallots, and mushrooms filled the air, and as I looked out the kitchen window at the big pines frosted with snow, I couldn't imagine a better way to spend a 15-degree winter day.
AND...all's well that end's well. Our friends brought their two dogs to romp with ours, as well a bottle of a fantastic dry red wine (http://www.treasurehunterwines.com/about.htm) that tasted like it was custom-vinted just for our meal. With four dogs in the house and Beef Wellington on the menu, we DID have to scold off some beggars in the dining room, but it was a small price to pay for a perfect ending to a perfect winter Saturday.
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