Friday Food: Cheap Chicken and Disappointing Cookies

Friday

Short version: Sheep chili, tortillas and cheese, carrot sticks

Long version: I was planning on making corn muffins, but ran out of motivation. So I squandered some of our last precious store-bought corn tortillas for this meal. When we're almost out of corn tortillas--which I buy in 80-count bags--you know it's been a long time since we've been to a store.

This day was five weeks and one day since the last visit to the grocery store, for those who are interested.

Saturday

Short version: Chicken drumsticks, garlic bread, coleslaw

Long version: A. bought a bunch of cheap chicken drumsticks when he was at the store over a month ago. The last time I cooked some of it, I threw together a very random sauce for it that everyone loved. Even A., who does not love drumsticks. He asked that I do that again.

Sure! If . . . I can remember what I did. I think I managed to replicate it, though. After browning the chicken--which was coated in salt, paprika, and garlic powder--I put it in a 400-degree oven to start cooking. Then, in the chicken pan, I cooked a bit of diced onion, then added some ketchup, mustard, vinegar, and more garlic powder. This was poured over the chicken to reduce while the chicken was cooking.

While I was making the coleslaw in the morning with the last quarter of a cabbage and a few of the last carrots, the children swirled through the kitchen and devoured the remaining carrots. And that was the end of every last fresh vegetable in the refrigerator.

Sunday

Short version: Leftovers, potatoes, eggs, oatmeal-raisin cookies

Long version: We went on a family excursion to this canyon and didn't get home until later than I had anticipated. And then, as soon as we got home, I had to plant out some of my overly large tomato plants in the beds A. had prepared the day before. So I was kind of late getting going on dinner. We were still eating by 5:30 p.m, though.

The kids ate leftover chicken, coleslaw, and the potatoes, which were the par-cooked and frozen potatoes. I put them in a cast-iron pan, still frozen, with some leftover hamburger grease and fried them until they were hot and crispy all around.

I had just a bit of ground beef left from making hamburgers a few nights previously, so I made one hamburger patty for A., and then he ate some fried eggs too.

I had fried eggs and some random leftover vegetables with soy sauce and vinegar on them.

The cookies were the remains of a marathon of cookie baking I did on Wednesday for the students at the school. We had a "pick-up parade" on Thursday, during which all the students drove to the school curb and we handed them all the things they had left at school. I figured it was a bummer to drive all that way (some people are driving as far as 90 miles to get to school) only to pick up some dirty shoes and water bottles, so I volunteered to make cookies for everyone.

There are less than 50 kids on campus, so that's less than 100 cookies.

I'm out of chocolate chips but have lots of raisins, so I decided on oatmeal-raisin. Unfortunately, oatmeal cookies are apparently somewhat tricky at high altitudes, as I discovered when I made this recipe for "thick, chewy" oatmeal cookies that absolutely flattened in the oven. They were as flat as cookies can be, and overly crispy. They tasted good, but I was not about to distribute those things to the community at large.

When I made the recipe a second time, they were somewhat better, but still too flat and brown. And not chewy. It was the MiL, who used to live in Albuquerque and is a much better baker than I am, who diagnosed my altitude problem. Oatmeal cookies have much less flour than, say, a chocolate-chip cookie, which I guess is the issue. She told me to add extra flour and half the amount of leavening next time.

Meanwhile, every student got a baggie with two crispy oatmeal cookies, and my kids got all the really flat ones. I actually froze about half of that batch as balls of raw dough, so I wouldn't have to spend the time baking them, and I baked them from the frozen balls right after dinner for our Sunday dessert. They were actually much improved by the freezing time (which the recipe author mentions in the recipe), so they were slightly less flat. Though still by no means thick and chewy.

Monday

Short version: Potatoes/bacon/cheese/peas

Long version: This day got a little complicated, with some extra meetings that made my workday go longer, and then we had to go rescue the van, which had to be left at the canyon we visited the day before because of a flat tire.

Anyway, in between those two things, I made a very fast dinner of some of those par-cooked potatoes fried with small pieces of bacon. Then I added some cheese and, at the last minute, peas to make it an all-in-one meal.

Unfortunately, those frozen potatoes didn't re-heat well in the skillet. They were still a bit under cooked, which is never good for potatoes.

You know what is good, though? Poppy's Easter outfit. Her floofy dress had no sleeves, so she accessorized with a cropped denim jacket.

More fashionable at two than her mother will ever be.

Tuesday

Short version: Roasted Italian sausage, potatoes, frozen green beans

Long version: In my rush to make dinner and get out the door to get the van the day before, I put the bag of frozen potatoes into the refrigerator instead of the freezer. So I figured I'd better use them up. I put them right on the pan with the last package of Italian sausage the MiL brought from Albuquerque (sad day), and later, some of the frozen green beans went right on that pan, too.

Roasted frozen green beans don't get as brown and crispy as roasted fresh green beans, but I much prefer the frozen ones roasted rather than cooked in water. They taste much less, well, water-logged.

The boys ate their green beans still frozen.

The potatoes were perfectly cooked this time. Everything is better roasted.

Wednesday

Short version: Mutton backstrap, personalized garlic bread, frozen green beans

Long version: The backstrap is one of the most tender cuts of meat, so all I did was slice it into medallions and sear it on a hot griddle with salt, pepper, garlic powder, and paprika. It was delicious.

Cubby was hovering around the kitchen earlier in the day while I was making bread and asked if he could have some of the dough to make something. I was planning on making garlic bread, anyway, so I took the dough for that and divided it in to four pieces and let the children choose their own flavorings for their own piece. I put out pepper, garlic powder, oregano, basil, and dill, figuring they would choose one or two. Instead, they all chose all of them.

They really loved their breads, though, so more power to them.

Thursday

Short version: Bunless cheeseburgers, sauteed onion, oven fries, squash, frozen peas

Long version: My new method of making hamburgers with the cheap Sysco ground beef is to simply press the meat down over the whole surface of my griddle pan. As they cook, the meat shrinks and I cut it into patties. What this does is create very thin burgers, which is a good thing with that wet meat. Kind of gross while it's cooking, but the burgers were pretty good.

The squash was the very last bag of last year's squash from the freezer. A. planted the saved seeds from that very squash in the backyard garden two days ago. Fingers crossed they grow and produce more squash for the freezer.

Okay, your turn! What'd you eat this week?

Let's Get Crazy

It's been awhile since I could honestly claim to be in the throes of The Tomato Crazy. But I think this year might be the year.

Sunday night I planted out five quite large tomato plants that were too big for the box in the kitchen anymore. A. prepared a very nice spot for them. He divided half of the more-sheltered backyard garden into what he calls "flooding cells." They're square and have berms of earth all around the sides, to hold the water so he can just put the hose in there and, well, flood it.

We found that this is the only way to ensure tomatoes get enough water in our somewhat arid climate. Sprinklers don't cut it.

In addition to those five, I have seven more plants that aren't big enough to go outside. So that's a total of a dozen tomato plants. With the possibility of more from the giant Sysco Roma tomato seeds I asked Cubby to shove into an empty seed-starting container. Those are just starting to sprout.

Okay, so it's a far cry from the 120 seedlings I ended up with one year at Blackrock, but I'm still pretty excited to have those dozen+. And if I can actually get them to produce (unlike last year), that could well be a large quantity of tomatoes.

Dare I say maybe even a shitload? Yes, I dare. And dare I say that I'm even looking forward to sweating copiously in the kitchen while I can jar upon jar of homegrown tomatoes? Yes, I dare say even that. (Though I'm sure there will be some complaining right about August if that does come to pass.)

In addition to the tomatoes, I have way more pepper plants than I was anticipating having. The first planting was so slow to come up that I planted some more. And then, as I might have expected, they all came up. Mostly thanks to the heating pad I put under them.

So now I have eight bell pepper plants in pots, plus the paprika peppers the MiL sent us are just starting to come up now. There are two of those so far, with a possibility of three more to come.

So there, again, we're going to have about a dozen plants. And again, I am excited. Bell peppers are one of those things I always buy when I get to a store, but they're kind of expensive and, well, almost 100 miles away. If I can manage to have dozens of bell peppers right in my backyard? I will be living the dream.

Maybe that's not everyone's dream. And maybe I'm crazy, but it's a kind of crazy I'm willing to live with.

Friday Food: Easter Gyros

Friday

Short version: Scrambled eggs, pasta with tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese, leftover green beans

Long version: Sysco food is not the most flavorful food. I got a 25-pound box of Roma tomatoes from the school Sysco program, and they were the hardest, palest, most flavorless tomatoes I have ever encountered. I used some of them to make a sauce for the kids' pasta. It was uninspiring, but serviceable.

The mozzarella was also from the Sysco program. Pre-shredded, part-skim mozzarella is not my preference, but you know what they say about beggars choosing.

Saturday

Short version: Roasted Italian sausage, roasted potatoes, roasted tomatoes, roasted green beans

Long version: ROAST ALL THE THINGS!

Actually, the tomatoes were greatly improved with roasting. Cubby took a bite and said, "Hey, these tomatoes actually taste like something." Indeed. It didn't hurt that I added salt, garlic powder, and dried oregano to them, too. They were good with the sausage, anyway.

Sunday

Short version: Lamb gyros, french fries, bunny cake with ice cream

Long version: It's a Greek Easter.

So I marinated a leg of lamb that A. had boned with a bunch of tomato juice left from when I was cutting up the sad tomatoes to roast, olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic. It sat in the refrigerator for almost 24 hours, which was a good thing. Then I tied it up, browned it, and threw it in a 400 degree oven with the french fries.

While that was cooking, I was making the pita bread*.

You know what P.I.T.A. stands for? Yeah, these were that. The dough wasn't particularly difficult to make, but then each pita has to be rolled out with a rolling pin, using a lot of flour so that it doesn't stick. But then all that extra flour goes on the screaming-hot griddle along with the bread and there, it burns. So the ENTIRE TIME I was rolling out and cooking the breads, every single smoke detector in the house was going off and Cubby was running hysterically around the house opening every last window.

They were good, but I'm not convinced it was worth it.

Anyway, I made french fries just because I always like french fries. And this is the bunny cake:

Even by my low standards, this is an Ugly Cake. A bit creepy, too. Delicious, though!

Monday

Short version: Leftover meat pizza-style, potato slices, green salad

Long version: There was a bit of lamb left from the night before, plus a couple of sausages, so I sliced both of those thinly, fried them, and added some tomato sauce I had made earlier.

I actually made Finny's Sauce with the terrible tomatoes from Sysco. I didn't have any wine, either, and just used a bit of balsamic vinegar. Even with terrible tomatoes and no wine, that sauce is still good. Maybe I'll re-name it Finny's Magic Sauce.

This is still salad from MY LETTUCE HOORAY! The excitement never dims.

Tuesday

Short version: Sheep lap, curried split peas, baked potatoes, garlic bread, carrot sticks

Long version: Man, this was the most random meal ever.

The lap is the breast of the sheep. It's a very thin, fatty, and quite tough cut. I had seen somewhere that it can be used to make a sort of bacon, so A. found a recipe somewhere that called for a dry rub of salt, pepper, and brown sugar, and we left it in the refrigerator for two weeks.

The resulting meat was quite sweet. Not much like bacon, but it was reminiscent of the lamb ribs A. makes sometimes. So I baked it at a low heat for a couple of hours, adding paprika and garlic powder to it. This made a chewy, crispy, very fatty meat. A. and Cubby liked it, Poppy ate it, but Charlie and Jack tried it and refused. They had some cheese instead.

I mostly made the curried split peas and baked potatoes for me, because I love curry and potatoes. Rafael had given us all those split peas, and I used to sometimes make dal, which is made with split lentils. Lentils split smaller than peas, but the peas still cooked up pretty quickly. All I did was cook some diced onion and garlic in oil, fry some sweet yellow curry powder in there, then add rinsed split peas, salt, and water. I ate mine over a baked potato with sour cream on top, and it was delicious.

Let us pause for a photo of this year's floofy Easter dress. Sadly, it went unappreciated by our church at large, but we all appreciated it very much.

And I didn't have to worry about the clashing striped pants underneath, so that's a bonus.

Wednesday

Short version: Bunless cheeseburgers, rice, frozen green beans

Long version: That cheap Sysco ground beef is much better as thin hamburgers rather than meatloaf. Not as wet.

Thursday

Short version: Grilled cheese sandwiches, frozen green beans

Long version: Those who wanted pizza grilled cheese had the remainder of Finny's sauce with mozzarella and, in Cubby and A.'s case, anchovy paste.

Speaking of Cubby, I decided to try to include him in the preparations for Easter dinner by asking him to make a centerpiece for the table out of some of the modeling clay they got in their baskets. I suggested a bunny. This is what he put on the table:

The beheading of the creepiest Easter bunny in existence.

Okay, your turn! What'd you eat this week?

* I used that recipe mostly because the author explained how her Palestinian grandmother used to make bread: She saved a small ball of dough from each batch and dropped it right into a bag of flour for the next batch. SEE? SEE?! No one is throwing away flour in places where food is hard to come by. (And where bread is made frequently.)

Sane Sourdough: The Starter

I was kind of hoping no one would ask me how to make a starter for sourdough, because I didn't actually make ours. A. made it many years ago now. I think about eight years ago, but I can't really remember.

He started it because he had read that some people who have trouble digesting wheat-flour bread (which in our house at the time included both A. and the MiL) are okay with sourdough.

Now, because it was A. in the kitchen, he was not about to get involved in anything finicky or detailed. The MiL looked up a lot of information about sourdough and found all that stuff about feeding and discarding and all, and A. responded something along the lines of,"That's stupid. I guarantee you no one crossing the prairie in 1870 was throwing out flour."

So he used the method that we found in Darina Allen's Forgotten Skills of Cooking, an immensely practical book the MiL gave me for Christmas at my request many years ago.

Here is that method:

Day 1: Choose a large airtight jar that will hold at least 2 quarts--a glass jar is fine. Put 1/4 cup of tepid (not hot) pure spring water (my note: I think filtered tap water is okay, too, you just don't want municipal water with chlorine in it) and 1/4 cup of flour into the jar. Stir well, close the jar, and leave at room temperature for 24 hours.

Day 2-5: Add 1/4 cup water and 1/4 cup flour every day, stir well, close, and leave at room temperature.

It should be ready to go by Day 6.

An important change A. made, though, was that he did not cover the jar so it was airtight. He just covered it with a cloth secured with a rubber band, under the assumption that you need to give the wild yeasts in the air access to your starter.

He put it on top of the refrigerator, which is a nice warm spot.

To be fair, the kitchen at Blackrock--a damp, 1860s farmhouse--almost certainly has a larger-than-average colony of wild yeasts hanging around. I have never tried doing this in New Mexico, but I think it would be much harder to start a starter here in this arid, cleaner climate.

Anyway. That's what he did, should you wish to try it yourself. And if you do, please let me know if it works. (Or doesn't.)

Real-time, Sane Sourdough: Part 8

Dough goes in, and after fifty minutes, out comes . . .

BREAD!

I dump the bread out onto a cooling rack, then I let it cool for a few hours and then wrap it up. Cereal bags and twist ties are the best way to wrap it, but if I don't have enough of those, I just put it in two plastic grocery store bags without holes in them.

Although this bread, like all bread, is much better fresh, I still freeze three of the four loaves.

So, a handy summary for you if you don't feel like spending an hour reading the many, many words I just wrote about sourdough:

Step one: Mix together a cup of starter, four cups of flour, and two cups of water. Cover and leave.

Step two: 8-10 hours later, mix together another four cups of flour and two cups of water. Cover and refrigerate overnight. Or, in winter, just leave it on the counter overnight if your kitchen is cool.

Step three: Take out of refrigerator first thing in the morning and let it warm up for a few hours. Or, in winter, get going right away.

Step four: Remove about a cup of starter and put it back in its jar in the refrigerator. Mix in six cups of flour  (some whole grain flour here if you want) and 2.5 cups of water. Cover and leave to rise.

Step five: Four hours later, scrape the dough out onto a floured counter and sprinkle over it 4.5 teaspoons salt. Knead it in for about thirty seconds. Put the dough back in the bowl, cover, and leave to rise.

Step six: Two hours later, grease four loaf pans, scrape the dough out onto a floured counter and flip a few times so it's not sticky, then cut into four pieces and put the pieces in the pans. Cover the pans with a damp tea towel and leave to rise.

Step seven: 2-3 hours later, heat oven to 425 degrees, then slash the top of each loaf twice with a serrated knife and put the pans in the oven.

Step eight: About fifty minutes later, take the bread out, flip it out of the pan onto a cooling rack, and allow it to cool all the way before wrapping it up.

Done! (FINALLY)

Real-time, Sane Sourdough: Part 7

Let's get this oven party started.

During the last stage, the dough rose in the bread pans for about three hours. Our kitchen was only about 65 degrees today, so that was maybe a little slower than normal. But once it starts pushing up the towel covering it, it's ready to bake.

The oven needs to pre-heat to 425 degrees. Then I slash the top of each loaf twice with a serrated steak knife. I do this quickly so that I'm not pressing down on the dough and deflating it at all. The slashing gives the bread more space to rise in the oven.

Slashed loaves with the slashing knife.

They stay in the oven for about 50 minutes.

To be continued . . .

Real-time, Sane Sourdough: Part 6

Now that it's two hours later and the dough looks like this:

Puffy and bubbly.

It's time to rid ourselves of that pot and make some loaves.

First I get the loaf pans ready.

My kitchen equipment can be most charitably described as "utilitarian."

I grease the pans with old butter wrappers I save. There's always some butter stuck to them, and it's usually enough to grease a loaf pan. If it's not, I just get some of the soft butter from the counter and smear it on with the wrapper. Keeps my hands from getting greasy.

You can also use non-stick spray.

Then I scrape the dough out of the pot and onto the floured counter. I immediately put the pot in the sink and fill it with water, because that pot is a bitch to clean even if it soaks. Then I flip the dough over two or three times, just so it's not sticky.

Next I pat it a bit flat, to make it easier to cut.

Like so.

I cut the dough into four pieces with my bread knife. 

I have two one-pound loaf pans, and two pound-and-a-half loaf pans (one of which was the MiL's), which means I don't divide my dough equally, but rather, into two bigger pieces and two smaller pieces. This is challenging, and frankly, I suck at it. If I had a scale, I could weigh the pieces. I don't have a scale, though, and honestly probably wouldn't do that even if I did.

It doesn't really matter if I screw it up, though. This time when I tried to cut two smaller pieces and two bigger pieces (plus one even smaller piece for garlic bread tonight), I ended up with one big pan with too much in it and one small pan with not enough, so I just pulled a chunk from the too-full pan and squished it in with the dough in the not-full-enough pan.

This is what the MiL meant when she said I don't take any particular care shaping them. Understatement of the year.

Here's what the pans looked like after I re-arranged the dough.

They're . . . pans of dough.

I cover them with a damp tea towel:

Shrouded pans.

I bet you can guess what I do now, right? Yes. I wait.

To be continued . . .