The Beautiful People are at Whole Foods tonight. It's Friday night in Cleveland and everyone with good shoes and perfect highlights is at the corner of Warrensville and Cedar in University Heights.
I had just run in there, on my way home, for a brief moment to grab a few things and was flabbergasted that I had to elbow a boatload of yuppies to get to my rapini.
As a recovering lone wolf, I was, at first, totally annoyed. "Who are these people and what do they think they are doing milling about and getting in my way?!" The huddling (albeit good-looking) masses had plastic wine glasses and were eating pretty things off of festooned toothpicks. Evidently, Whole Foods does these tasting events every Friday evening.
I had no choice but to say "excuse me" a lot and work around the crowd. Visibly irritated, I do-see-do'd with them in Produce. Noticing their Adrienne Vittadini loafers, I dodged them in Cheese and Wine. By the time I managed to power-through their 40-deep line with help from a hippie senior citizen with a big grocery cart and an even bigger attitude somewhere near the Humane Meat Department, my sour-puss attitude was melting away. I was almost ready to whistle a different tune.
I mean, these people were having FUN. They were tasting good, natural, well-prepared food. They were connecting with friendly faces. They were letting their hair down in a healthy way after a long week. Who did I think I was to deny their joy in the arrival of Friday night just because I'm in a (perpetual) big hurry? Plus, if I got myself out of these frumpy yoga pants and Dansko work clogs and into some lipstick and a scarf, I might actually like sharing a laugh and a plate with these folks.
"THAT SETTLES IT. I WANT TO HAVE FUN, TOO!" I thought to myself.
Yes, I admit that I bellyache about food politics and the folks who applaud themselves endlessly for engaging in them. (Quit talking about it and just DO it!) Yes, I admit I've called Whole Foods the Wal-Mart of of the healthy-eating lifestyle. Yes, I roll my eyes at anything that is overtly milquetoast. Yes, yes, yes...I'm pretty much Walter Matthau in a skirt.
But I can walk it off. I like Friday night. I LOOOOVE good food. I like talking to people...even the "beautiful people" at the UH Whole Foods.
So, maybe I'll see you next week. My hair will be out of the work-week tie-back. The Danskos will have been shelved in favor of some pumps. I will dig out the Estee Lauder "Fuschia NOW" lip gloss. I will wax philosophical about Nieman Ranch pork farms. I will have as much fun as a food person can possibly have.
I mean, why NOT??!!
Friday, April 29, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
I Heart Ovens
Is there any cooking tool greater than the oven? Oh, sure...every die-hard cook out there goes ga-ga for a good knife (as well they should)...BUT as far as a vehicle for the transformative process that is cookery, I ask again: Really... is there any cooking tool greater than the oven?
The oven is a magic box. What goes in as a messy/soupy glop, comes out as a beautiful cake. What goes in as a hunk of raw, possibly bacteria-laden meat, comes out as a richly nutritious, life-sustaining protein entree. What goes is as an overly-fibrous, not-terribly appetizing vegetable comes out as a caramelized treat that truly enhances the diner's meal.
What's even better is that these transformations take absolutely no effort on the cook's part. Sure you can toss your vegetables in a light coating of oil. Of course you can season or brown your meat first. It helps your bakery if you've greased and floured your baking tins. But you don't have to do any of this. Your oven will kindly forgive your oversight and still turn out something lovely to look at and delightful to dine upon.
This Easter weekend, although happy and filled with family, turned out to be more harried than anyone would prefer. We were not planning on an elaborate dinner, but...well..we DO have to eat something.
The trouble was that some unexpected events took place and doing much cooking at all was beginning to look like a stretch.
Thank God for a working oven. I was at least able to carve out enough time to wave some seasonings over a chicken, in a barely-there effort to make it extra-good. And with that absolutely minimal, minimal act of preparation, I still know I'll have an excellent meal. Sitting one room away as that bird roasts, I can smell the wonderful aroma of what will be crispy skin, moist and tender meat, and hot steam rising from every forkful. All of this wonderfulness and I practically didn't have to do a thing. The oven did it for me.
While teaching a "Healthy Cooking" class recently, a participant asked me what my favorite thing to cook was. I thought about toeing the healthy-cooking-party line, but I'm an awful liar, so I blurted out the God's honest truth:
"Pot Roast"
Yep. I told everyone that you put it in the oven and forget about it and it turns out perfect every time. It's another dish where the oven does all the work.
OK, I back-peddled and told the healthy-cooking folks I do like a steamed fish taco like nobody's business, which is also true...and sounds much healthier. (In moderation, ultra-rich proteins do have their place for many folks in otherwise decent health, but I wasn't supposed to be encouraging such a decadent cut of meat at this class)
Ooof. It's the oven, I swear it! I just couldn't lie. The oven is so easy and make so many things turn out amazing. I just love the magic of the oven's alchemy. Even (or especially) upon a pot roast.
The oven is a magic box. What goes in as a messy/soupy glop, comes out as a beautiful cake. What goes in as a hunk of raw, possibly bacteria-laden meat, comes out as a richly nutritious, life-sustaining protein entree. What goes is as an overly-fibrous, not-terribly appetizing vegetable comes out as a caramelized treat that truly enhances the diner's meal.
What's even better is that these transformations take absolutely no effort on the cook's part. Sure you can toss your vegetables in a light coating of oil. Of course you can season or brown your meat first. It helps your bakery if you've greased and floured your baking tins. But you don't have to do any of this. Your oven will kindly forgive your oversight and still turn out something lovely to look at and delightful to dine upon.
This Easter weekend, although happy and filled with family, turned out to be more harried than anyone would prefer. We were not planning on an elaborate dinner, but...well..we DO have to eat something.
The trouble was that some unexpected events took place and doing much cooking at all was beginning to look like a stretch.
Thank God for a working oven. I was at least able to carve out enough time to wave some seasonings over a chicken, in a barely-there effort to make it extra-good. And with that absolutely minimal, minimal act of preparation, I still know I'll have an excellent meal. Sitting one room away as that bird roasts, I can smell the wonderful aroma of what will be crispy skin, moist and tender meat, and hot steam rising from every forkful. All of this wonderfulness and I practically didn't have to do a thing. The oven did it for me.
While teaching a "Healthy Cooking" class recently, a participant asked me what my favorite thing to cook was. I thought about toeing the healthy-cooking-party line, but I'm an awful liar, so I blurted out the God's honest truth:
"Pot Roast"
Yep. I told everyone that you put it in the oven and forget about it and it turns out perfect every time. It's another dish where the oven does all the work.
OK, I back-peddled and told the healthy-cooking folks I do like a steamed fish taco like nobody's business, which is also true...and sounds much healthier. (In moderation, ultra-rich proteins do have their place for many folks in otherwise decent health, but I wasn't supposed to be encouraging such a decadent cut of meat at this class)
Ooof. It's the oven, I swear it! I just couldn't lie. The oven is so easy and make so many things turn out amazing. I just love the magic of the oven's alchemy. Even (or especially) upon a pot roast.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Re-Inventing the Pizza Wheel
No, I'm not re-inventing the little wheel-style pizza cutter tool. I'm re-inventing the great wheel that is the institution of PIZZA.
I've never been to Italy (YET!) but we Americans love us some pizza pie. The average American eats about 23 pounds of it per year, per person. That comes out to something like 50 slices.
Me? Not so much.
I like pizza, don't get me wrong. But 2 full years of my college days were spent living in a roach-infested apartment above a pizzaria. The aroma of pepperoni was forever in the air. It broke me. Now, I can take it or leave it.
But when I do partake in a pizza pie, I often like to have fun with it. I like to go beyond pepperoni and mozzarella. This started in earnest during my days at the Italian restaurant.
I would prep in the kitchen by day, then do a change of clothes and greet patrons in the dining room by night. When the dinner rush was over, I'd go to the pizza oven area and help my friend, Richie, portion dough. And often I'd make a pizza. I'd do weird things. With weird toppings. And non-traditional pizza cheeses. Sometimes my inventions were awful. Sometimes they were awesome.
I like to do that, from time to time, at work, and even at home. Customers seem to love my adaptation of a sweet potato pizza, with crispy pancetta and oregano on a whole grain pie shell. I think my Thai-inspired Asian chicken pizza is kind of neat.
Tonight, I took a night off from the oven. I ordered a pizza...but I let myself go: roasted red pepper sauce, asiago cheese, spicy capicola, and lots of fresh basil. I know I cook a lot, but I don't know everything (good God! Not at ALL!) I only have some idea of what I'm doing: the rest is a roll of the dice.
But! I rolled good numbers tonight!
You can, too! Get off the sausage and pepperoni merry-go-round. What have you got to lose? I mean, really...what's a pizza?...15.95 at the most? Can't you roll the dice for once? Play around a little? Give the kids a chance to have some fun? Come up with some never-before combination? Even if it's awful, you'll still eat it (mark my words!) So there's nothing wasted.
And...nothing ventured, nothing gained!
I've never been to Italy (YET!) but we Americans love us some pizza pie. The average American eats about 23 pounds of it per year, per person. That comes out to something like 50 slices.
Me? Not so much.
I like pizza, don't get me wrong. But 2 full years of my college days were spent living in a roach-infested apartment above a pizzaria. The aroma of pepperoni was forever in the air. It broke me. Now, I can take it or leave it.
But when I do partake in a pizza pie, I often like to have fun with it. I like to go beyond pepperoni and mozzarella. This started in earnest during my days at the Italian restaurant.
I would prep in the kitchen by day, then do a change of clothes and greet patrons in the dining room by night. When the dinner rush was over, I'd go to the pizza oven area and help my friend, Richie, portion dough. And often I'd make a pizza. I'd do weird things. With weird toppings. And non-traditional pizza cheeses. Sometimes my inventions were awful. Sometimes they were awesome.
I like to do that, from time to time, at work, and even at home. Customers seem to love my adaptation of a sweet potato pizza, with crispy pancetta and oregano on a whole grain pie shell. I think my Thai-inspired Asian chicken pizza is kind of neat.
Tonight, I took a night off from the oven. I ordered a pizza...but I let myself go: roasted red pepper sauce, asiago cheese, spicy capicola, and lots of fresh basil. I know I cook a lot, but I don't know everything (good God! Not at ALL!) I only have some idea of what I'm doing: the rest is a roll of the dice.
But! I rolled good numbers tonight!
You can, too! Get off the sausage and pepperoni merry-go-round. What have you got to lose? I mean, really...what's a pizza?...15.95 at the most? Can't you roll the dice for once? Play around a little? Give the kids a chance to have some fun? Come up with some never-before combination? Even if it's awful, you'll still eat it (mark my words!) So there's nothing wasted.
And...nothing ventured, nothing gained!
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Are You Ready for the Summer? Are You Ready for the Good Times?
Some readers of a certain age may recognize the title of this post as lyrics from the theme song to the movie "Meatballs", a coming-of-age-B-Movie-late-night-comedy-classic.
Bill Murray may have starred. He's wonderful, but I hardly care. I want to talk MEATBALLS.
Ah, meatballs. I love them whether they are Swedish, Italian, or Turkish. I dated a guy who requested I put meatballs on his birthday cake. How that relationship went south, I'll never know.... Meatballs? Birthday cake? WAS HE READING MY MIND???
But I digress. You see, there was a time when I chopped vegetables and made meatballs for an Italian restaurant. I made meatballs 30 and 40 POUNDS at a time. I hated making those meatballs. I also pulled some front-of-the-house (FOH) shifts. One night, when the dinner rush had died down, and the responsibilities of the FOH staff was not much more than watching the clock until closing time, I realized it had been hours since the staff meal. I was really hungry. I went to the line, asked Julio to throw a meatball and some vegetables in my bowl. Then I walked right past the marinara and helped myself to a ladle of buerre blanc to go over the whole shootin' match.
Save for the buerre blanc, a strange detour from marinara, the meatball's usual sidekick, this was not a fancy meal. But oh, my word! Was it good!
I ate my meatball, veggies, and buerre blanc every night shift I worked for the next 3 years. It remains a favorite meal.
While I got a lot of comments and squinting at my choice of sauce for the meatball, I never felt the need to defend the buerre blanc. Lemon-y and wine-y, it's tart zing was a nice counterpoint to the the richness of the meatball. In short, it was just GOOD, that's all.
I didn't explain that when I plunked some generous meatballs, some al dente veggies, and a heaping spoonful of buerre blanc down in front of mi esposo at dinner tonight. And he didn't ask.
After eating he leaned back and said:
"I'm officially full. And that was officially good."
I felt vindicated. The humble meatball, when aimed properly, never misses the mark!
Bill Murray may have starred. He's wonderful, but I hardly care. I want to talk MEATBALLS.
Ah, meatballs. I love them whether they are Swedish, Italian, or Turkish. I dated a guy who requested I put meatballs on his birthday cake. How that relationship went south, I'll never know.... Meatballs? Birthday cake? WAS HE READING MY MIND???
But I digress. You see, there was a time when I chopped vegetables and made meatballs for an Italian restaurant. I made meatballs 30 and 40 POUNDS at a time. I hated making those meatballs. I also pulled some front-of-the-house (FOH) shifts. One night, when the dinner rush had died down, and the responsibilities of the FOH staff was not much more than watching the clock until closing time, I realized it had been hours since the staff meal. I was really hungry. I went to the line, asked Julio to throw a meatball and some vegetables in my bowl. Then I walked right past the marinara and helped myself to a ladle of buerre blanc to go over the whole shootin' match.
Save for the buerre blanc, a strange detour from marinara, the meatball's usual sidekick, this was not a fancy meal. But oh, my word! Was it good!
I ate my meatball, veggies, and buerre blanc every night shift I worked for the next 3 years. It remains a favorite meal.
While I got a lot of comments and squinting at my choice of sauce for the meatball, I never felt the need to defend the buerre blanc. Lemon-y and wine-y, it's tart zing was a nice counterpoint to the the richness of the meatball. In short, it was just GOOD, that's all.
I didn't explain that when I plunked some generous meatballs, some al dente veggies, and a heaping spoonful of buerre blanc down in front of mi esposo at dinner tonight. And he didn't ask.
After eating he leaned back and said:
"I'm officially full. And that was officially good."
I felt vindicated. The humble meatball, when aimed properly, never misses the mark!
Saturday, April 9, 2011
The Lazy (Healthy!) Dinner that ABSOLUTELY KILLED
I lost steam at about 5:30pm. After 5 hours of paperwork-related "festivities", including doing taxes, plus a solid 2 hour hike, the thought of making myself presentable for a dinner out on the town quickly became a repugnant one.
Mi esposo wanted to order a take-out pizza. Commercial pizza is sometimes just too much yeasty, doughy glop for me to handle, and tonight was one of those times.
But he's a good kid, that esposo of mine, and I wanted him to be happy, so I told him to go on ahead with a small pizza for himself while I improvised with stuff on hand for the grill. The ever-present Alberta Clipper winds blowing cold misery over the Great Lakes Region apparently finally got the message to go on spring break, and with the warming temps outside, it seemed like a downright fine idea to fire up the grill.
The pickin's were slim around here, but I had some ground turkey on hand. There was also an eggplant lurking at the bottom of the produce drawer. Turkey Burgers with a Grilled Eggplant "Bun"??? Why not? After all, the less adventurous eater in this household had his pizza coming....
I love grilled eggplant. I know, I know...probably a good 4 out of 5 people say they hate eggplant, but they've probably eaten it either undercooked or poorly prepared. Thinly sliced, marinated, grilled eggplant is as indulgent an umami flavor experience as a perfectly-seared portobello in the finest restaurant in town. LOVE IT. Ground turkey, on the other hand, is about as lean and bland a protein as you can imagine. The burgers would need some jazzing up.
Scanning the almost-bare cupboards, my gaze landed upon some chickpeas. Rich and fibrous...they might give some life to the ground turkey. That, along with some sage, and a good, finely minced sweet onion...dinner was beginning to take shape.
The eggplant was marinated in some homemade balsamic vinaigrette left over from a recent salad, while the impromptu turkey-garbanzo burgers were formed. The eggplant was grilled on high...the burgers were grilled on medium...and some mayonnaise made the scene as a final condiment at serving time (cholesterol-watchers could substitute some Vegenaise)
Well, my ad hoc I'm-just-too-lazy-to-dress-for-dinner dinner was so damned delicious that I feel a little braggadocio telling you so. But it was. My poor, poor esposo seemed happy enough with his mushy pizza...although the crust looked undercooked and overly glutenous from where I was sitting...but I was happy enough to NOT share my awesome invention. I don't think anything could have beaten my dinner, excepting maybe some Pat LaFrieda beef at some fancy-schmancy-celebrity-cheffy place, but we've already established that nothing was getting me out of my hiking duds and into the LBD (that's "little black dress" for all of you readers who have let your Cosmo subscription lapse).
Interestingly enough, my dinner was cooked AND the grill was cleaned in the same amount of time it took mi espsoso to drive out and pick up his takeout.
And did I happen to mention that these off-the-cuff turkey burgers absolutely slayed me with their deliciousness?? The chickpeas did, indeed, make them feel rich and indulgent while the minced onion rounded the flavor out with their gentle pungency. The big, bright flavor of the grilled eggplant "bun" was the perfect counterweight in the overall flavor combination.
Everything else notwithstanding...why don't you see what you can invent with the scant remains of what's in your pantry the next time you are too lazy to venture out to dinner? You just might surprise yourself with how much more amazing the "something" you create out of "nothing" can be versus some doughy, derivative carryout crud.
Mi esposo wanted to order a take-out pizza. Commercial pizza is sometimes just too much yeasty, doughy glop for me to handle, and tonight was one of those times.
But he's a good kid, that esposo of mine, and I wanted him to be happy, so I told him to go on ahead with a small pizza for himself while I improvised with stuff on hand for the grill. The ever-present Alberta Clipper winds blowing cold misery over the Great Lakes Region apparently finally got the message to go on spring break, and with the warming temps outside, it seemed like a downright fine idea to fire up the grill.
The pickin's were slim around here, but I had some ground turkey on hand. There was also an eggplant lurking at the bottom of the produce drawer. Turkey Burgers with a Grilled Eggplant "Bun"??? Why not? After all, the less adventurous eater in this household had his pizza coming....
I love grilled eggplant. I know, I know...probably a good 4 out of 5 people say they hate eggplant, but they've probably eaten it either undercooked or poorly prepared. Thinly sliced, marinated, grilled eggplant is as indulgent an umami flavor experience as a perfectly-seared portobello in the finest restaurant in town. LOVE IT. Ground turkey, on the other hand, is about as lean and bland a protein as you can imagine. The burgers would need some jazzing up.
Scanning the almost-bare cupboards, my gaze landed upon some chickpeas. Rich and fibrous...they might give some life to the ground turkey. That, along with some sage, and a good, finely minced sweet onion...dinner was beginning to take shape.
The eggplant was marinated in some homemade balsamic vinaigrette left over from a recent salad, while the impromptu turkey-garbanzo burgers were formed. The eggplant was grilled on high...the burgers were grilled on medium...and some mayonnaise made the scene as a final condiment at serving time (cholesterol-watchers could substitute some Vegenaise)
Well, my ad hoc I'm-just-too-lazy-to-dress-for-dinner dinner was so damned delicious that I feel a little braggadocio telling you so. But it was. My poor, poor esposo seemed happy enough with his mushy pizza...although the crust looked undercooked and overly glutenous from where I was sitting...but I was happy enough to NOT share my awesome invention. I don't think anything could have beaten my dinner, excepting maybe some Pat LaFrieda beef at some fancy-schmancy-celebrity-cheffy place, but we've already established that nothing was getting me out of my hiking duds and into the LBD (that's "little black dress" for all of you readers who have let your Cosmo subscription lapse).
Interestingly enough, my dinner was cooked AND the grill was cleaned in the same amount of time it took mi espsoso to drive out and pick up his takeout.
And did I happen to mention that these off-the-cuff turkey burgers absolutely slayed me with their deliciousness?? The chickpeas did, indeed, make them feel rich and indulgent while the minced onion rounded the flavor out with their gentle pungency. The big, bright flavor of the grilled eggplant "bun" was the perfect counterweight in the overall flavor combination.
Everything else notwithstanding...why don't you see what you can invent with the scant remains of what's in your pantry the next time you are too lazy to venture out to dinner? You just might surprise yourself with how much more amazing the "something" you create out of "nothing" can be versus some doughy, derivative carryout crud.
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