Sunday, December 28, 2014

Kohlrabi

I was introduced to kohlrabi while I was in Germany.  My host family grew them in their garden, and I loved them-- fresh or quick-cooked in the microwave-- my host mom made them so yummy.  I've always struggled though, with the kohlrabis I find in the grocery store here in the US.  They are so small an anemic-looking compared to the ones my host family grows.  Do I really want them?  Well, early in the fall, I was wandering through the farmers' market and found the mother of all kohlrabi.  It was three or four times the size of the ones in the grocery store; next to this monstrous veggie, my host family's appear dwarfish.  IT WAS ALMOST THE SIZE OF MY HEAD.
From an earlier try with kohlrabi (I had found some at the store I felt were acceptably sized), I knew my husband prefers cooked kohlrabi to raw; he thinks it tastes a bit like cauliflower.  I don't really care for cauliflower, so I disagree, but sure, I could cook it for him.

Creamy Kohlrabi Puree
Kohlrabi (half of a massive kohlrabi, 2 of a grocery store kohlrabi)
1-2 Tbsp butter
1 green onion (scallion), chopped
salt
Lawry's seasoned salt
pepper

Peel and roughly chop the kohlrabi, then place in salted water.  Bring to a boil, and cook until the kohlrabi is tender (like cooking potatoes).  Drain the water.  Add the butter and use a food processor, immersion blender, or potato masher to create a smooth, creamy texture.  Season to taste with Lawry's and pepper, and stir in the green onion.  

Super-easy, but super-yummy.  I was surprised how much I liked it, actually.  It really did have a creamy mouthfeel, and the onion gave it a bit of pop.  It doesn't necessarily look (or taste) like a typical green veggie, making it a nice way to get out of a rut.  It is still a veggie, though, and has a fresh flavor that balanced the fried onion rings we served it with.  
I think seasoning is key to developing interesting flavors with kohlrabi.  Lawry's is great that way, and pepper gives it a little more depth.  If you want an even quicker way to serve up kohlrabi try the following, which is an easy way to take it to work, too.  Peel and chop a portion of kohlrabi, and throw it in a microwave-safe dish.  Add a bit of butter, Lawry's, and pepper.  Microwave 1 minute, and enjoy.


Monday, December 22, 2014

Lasagne-inspired Spaghetti Squash

I am quite the fan of spaghetti squash.  One of the few squash my mom was able to get me to eat as a kid.  You cook it up, comb it with a fork, and cover it with spaghetti sauce, and presto!  Stealth veggie. As I've gotten older, my tasting ability has improved, and I can tell it isn't pasta (as a kid, half of eating was what I thought it would be-- if it looked like spaghetti, it must have been spaghetti, and spaghetti was what I was going to taste.), but I still enjoy it.  The flavor isn't entirely dissimilar.  I convinced my husband we ought to try it, and rather than just dish it up with tomato sauce, of which he isn't a big fan, I decided to make it into a casserole.

Spaghetti Squash Casserole
1 smallish spaghetti squash
1/2 onion
1/2 bell pepper
1 carrot
1 clove garlic confit (or garlic)
tomato sauce (~2 C)
1 C chopped/shredded cooked chicken
2 C shredded cheese (I used a combination of queso fresco and… something else I had sitting in my fridge.  I'd recommend mozzarella.)

Begin by cooking the squash.  Jab it a few times with a fork and/or sharp knife, then place it on a plate in the microwave.  I usually give it five minutes, then continue in 2 1/2 minute intervals, turning the squash to evenly cook it.  It's done when it is tender.

Save your fingers: let the squash cool.  Meanwhile, dice the onion, pepper, and carrot.  If you are using fresh garlic, mince that as well; if using confit, you can just crush it with a spatula.  Place in a small pot with a bit of oil, and cook until tender.  Add the tomato sauce and reduce the heat.

Cut the squash in half, then scrape out the flesh with a fork.  Grease a casserole dish.  Place about a third of the squash in the casserole, then about a third of the chicken, followed by approximately a third of the sauce and cheese.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Repeat until everything is layered.  Bake at 350˚F until cheese is melted and casserole is warm throughout.

If I were to make this again, I would probably add some oregano to the sauce mix, and maybe incorporate the chicken into it, too, to unify everything a bit more.  Using mozzarella would've improved it, too, I think, rather than a desperate bid to use what I had on hand.   It was a tad under-seasoned; I needed more salt and pepper.  I also rushed this, so the cheese wasn't as "melty" as it ought to have been.  It was a good idea, but fell a bit short because of those things.  It'll be better, and more intentional, next time.  







Monday, December 8, 2014

Baked Eggs Florentine

A while ago, I bought some frozen spinach by mistake.  Oops.  To use it up, I made spinach dip for a softball team, which only got rid of half of it, and left me wondering what to do with the other package.  (No, I don't know how I wound up buying TWO of the wrong item.  I probably forgot to check a recipe.)  Then my husband and I were flipping through my cookbooks and I spotted (more or less) the following recipe in 2, 4, 6, 8: Great Meals for Couples of Crowds, by Rachael Ray.  It seemed like just the right recipe, because I only needed to buy 2 ingredients for it!  So here's my take on her dish.

Baked Eggs Florentine
1 10-oz package frozen spinach
2 Tbsp garlic confit oil*
1 clove confit garlic, smashed
1 Tbsp butter
1/2 onion
4 fresh thyme sprigs
salt and pepper to taste
3/4 C chicken stock
1/2 C cream
nutmeg
4 eggs
1/2 C grated Gruyere

*If you don't have the garlic confit oil (seriously, though, it is one of the best recipes I have made), use olive oil and add a clove of minced garlic along with the onion.  That's what was called for in the original recipe.

Defrost the spinach, place in a clean towel, and wring out the excess moisture.  Chop the onions, and remove the thyme leaves from the woody stem.

Heat the oil and butter in a skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions, garlic, thyme, salt, and pepper, and sauté for ~5 minutes.  Add the spinach, using a utensil to distribute it (it should be a clump when you add it).  Add the chicken stock, cream, and a bit of nutmeg.  Simmer until creamy and thickened (shouldn't take long).

Grease a small baking dish.  Transfer the creamy spinach mixture to the dish, and make 4 little divots in it.  Carefully crack an egg into each hollow.  Season with salt and pepper, then cover the top of the dish with a layer of Gruyere.  (I just grated a block of cheese directly onto the top.)  Bake at 450˚F ~5-10 minutes until the egg is set (I like a runny yolk, so 10 was way too long for me!)

I found the recipe, as it was in the book, rather confusing.  I didn't seem to have the amount of spinach mixture that Rachael worked with; I spread it really thin in the baking dish, my eggs cooked way faster than they should have…  It was a tad frustrating.  But it was delicious anyway.  I ate the leftovers (my husband and I only ate 1 egg) for lunch for the next two days.  Since the yolk was set already, it reheated well; a runny yolk will finish cooking in the microwave, which isn't really an issue, just something to be aware of the first time you reheat an egg.

The spinach was rich and flavorful, and eggs are always a favorite of mine.  Gruyere has a wonderful, salty flavor and is also rich, getting along well with the rest of the dish.  It melts beautifully, which is why I had no qualms about getting a whole block of it; it's great for a grilled sandwich.  Which was, in a way, how I ended up eating my leftovers.  I toasted some bread, and served the spinach and egg on top of it, like an open-faced sandwich.  That gave it a nice crunchy element to the texture.  I don't think my husband was wild about it; he's not much of a spinach fan.  However, he did find this recipe palatable. It may not be the most gorgeous dish I've ever put on a plate, but it was tasty and filling.




Sunday, November 30, 2014

What to do with leftover fennel?

There's an episode of McMillan and Wife in which Sally and Mac bet each other a fancy, multi-course dinner while disputing something rather trivial.  I thought it was a fun idea.  My husband and I made a similar bet.  And it turned out to be a draw, because we were both partially right.  I forgot about it, but had mentioned that I would have requested a risotto from him.  Being a wonderful husband, he remembered, and surprised me with a risotto for dinner.  Unfortunately, this used slightly less than half a fennel bulb, which left us wondering what to do with this bizarre, licorice-y celery-lookalike.  So we turned to the internet (again).  The following is adapted from a recipe found on food52.com (via Emily C.)

Crispy Cream-Braised Potatoes and Fennel
3 yukon gold potatoes
1 fennel bulb
2-3 C half-and-half
1 bay leaf
1 tsp dried rosemary, chopped
Kosher salt and black pepper
3-4 large sprigs of thyme
Heaping 1/4 C finely grated parmesan
1 pinch lemon zest
orange-infused olive oil


Peel the potatoes and cut into chunks.  Cut off the stems of the fennel bulbs and remove any bruised or nasty bits, and cut it into chunks as well.

In a 3-4 quart pan, combine the potatoes, fennel, rosemary, and bay leaf.  Add enough half-and-half to fully cover, and season with salt and pepper.  Over medium-high heat, bring to a simmer, then lower the heat to just barely maintain it.  Cook until tender (about 20 minutes), stirring occasionally to keep the cream from burning.

While they are cooking, remove the thyme leaves from the stem.  Combine thyme, cheese, and zest.  Coat the inside of a small roasting pan, baking dish, or casserole with the oil.

Remove the potatoes and fennel from the cream mixture with a slotted spoon.  Save the cream, if you like, for salad dressings or sauces.  Toss the veggies with a little bit more oil, add the cheese mixture, and place in the greased pan.  Make sure everything is evenly spread around so it all roasts nicely.  Sample a little bit to make sure you don't need more salt and pepper.

Place the pan under a high broiler for about 3 minutes, until crispy.

This was really yummy!  I was surprised how much I liked it.  The fennel flavor was subtle, just a mild undertone that gave the whole dish depth, blending neatly with the rosemary and thyme.  The cream braising gave the dish a richness that was balanced by the crispiness of the broiler finish.  We served it along with roasted chicken breasts, and the flavors went very nicely together; the braising cream was delicious with the chicken. We had friends over that night, and they also enjoyed the meal.  It was sophisticated, but rather simple.






Sunday, November 23, 2014

Warm Lentil Salad

This will be a bit of a throwback for me.  The recipe got separated from the photos, and my memory can be a bit spotty.  But here it is:

      Wednesday is a great day for food.  You know why?  The New York Times Dining Section is featured on Wednesdays.  Some weeks are better than others for recipes, and some weeks I wish desperately that I lived in New York and could try the restaurants featured, but overall, I love it.  I clipped tons of recipes from there, including one for "Warm Lentil and Pork Belly Salad."  Yummy!  I adapted it so it was more practical for me, and wound up with a rather delicious meal.


Warm Lentil Salad
1 Onion, halved
2 cloves
1 carrot, peeled
4 sprigs of thyme
1 bayleaf
1 package thick-cut bacon
1 C lentils
1 lb fingerling or small potatoes
2 small gherkins
1 Tbsp capers
2 Tbsp red wine vinegar
1 Tbsp dijon mustard
1/4 C olive oil
1/2 C Parsley
2 smallish green onions

     Start by halving the onion.  Stick a clove in 1 half of the onion, half the other half (so it's quarters), and stick the 2nd clove in one of the quarters.  Place the clove-stuck onion half, carrot, 2 sprigs of thyme, and the bacon in a pot of water.  Bring to a boil, and simmer for about 20 minutes or so, until the bacon is cooked.  Pull the bacon out, and cut the strips into halves or thirds, and keep it warm until serving.  I recommend saving the liquid as broth for future recipes.
     While the bacon is cooking, combine the lentils, clove-stuck onion quarter, 2 thyme sprigs, and bay leaf in a pot with about 3 cups of salted water.  Bring it to a boil, reduce it to a simmer, and cook about 20 minutes until the lentils are tender but not mushy.  Drain the lentils (if necessary), and remove the extra stuff.  Compost it if you like.  Keep the lentils warm until serving.
     Hopefully you have a fair few burners on your oven (and a number of pots), because you should also get those potatoes cooked.  Give them a good wash, toss them in a pot of salted water, and boil them until they are tender enough to be poked with a fork.  And say it with me: keep warm until serving.  (Don't drain them and the water ought to do it for you.)
     And while all of those are cooking (the recipe I worked from kept saying "meanwhile"), you can get started on your dressing!  Finely chop the gherkins, capers, and remaining 1/4 onion.  Combine in a smallish mixing bowl with oil, vinegar, and mustard, and whisk like crazy until it takes on a thickish, creamy texture.  Add salt and pepper to taste.  Chop the parsley and green onion.
     To serve, half the potatoes and arrange them on the plate.   Place lentils alongside the potatoes, and arrange the bacon on top of that.  Fold the parsley and green onion into the dressing, and spoon it on top.  If desired, garnish with additional parsley.

This struck me as rather French, though I must admit an extremely limited knowledge of French cuisine.  More to the point, though, it was delicious.  I might have under-seasoned my lentils, because I found myself wishing for more of the dressing, with all its salty, tangy components.  That's not to say they didn't take on wonderful flavors from the aromatics with which they were simmered; they did.  My family also enjoyed it.  There was a simplistic elegance about it, but the capers and gherkins really appealed to us.  They're salty, familiar, tasty… And who doesn't love bacon?
 









Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Scallions, ahoy!

My [now former] roommate would periodically get green onions (or scallions, if you prefer).  She read on the internet somewhere that if you only use most of the green part and stick the remainder in a glass of water, they would grow back.  This works, but only for a period, and then they started tasting watery and developing a weird texture.  When I started gardening, she had a couple green onions in the fridge wilting and not looking so appetizing.  I decided to give the re-starting thing a try.  After a couple days in the water, they looked perkier and had developed roots.  I stuck them in the garden outside, and watered them faithfully for a few days, to get them through the wilty, we've-just-been-transplanted stage.  After that, I didn't worry about them too much; it was a wet summer, and it turns out they're pretty hardy.  When I went to dig them up and take them to my new home, they were HUGE.  Clearly, my husband and I needed to eat a lot of green onions.

Back in Hawaii the fish counters at the grocery stores usually have a delicious, not-quite-teriyaki marinade that they put fish in.  My family enjoys getting the salmon in this marinade.  When stuck with the scallions, it seemed like a good time to try making my own version.


Shoyu-marinated Salmon
1 fillet salmon
1 C soy sauce (shoyu)
1 Tbsp sesame oil
1 Tbsp garlic confit oil (see previous blog)*
1/2 tsp lemon zest
1 tsp pepper
2 Tbsp honey
1/4 C loosely packed chopped scallions (green part only)

*if you don't have garlic confit oil, use a Tbsp of your favorite oil and 1 small clove of garlic, minced.

Combine all ingredients except the salmon in a small bowl, shallow dish, or bag.  Taste and balance flavors as desired.

Put the salmon in the marinade at least 4 hours before cooking.  Flip the salmon about halfway through the marinading time.

To cook, preheat the oven to 375˚F, and place the salmon in a lightly greased baking dish.  Spoon over a bit of the marinade, and, if desired, sprinkle with sesame seeds  Bake about 30 minutes until the salmon flakes easily with a fork.




We had this with rice and green beans (which you can cook with a bit of marinade, as long as you make sure to bring it to a full boil-- even if sautéing).  It was yummy.  Not a perfect recreation of the grocery store's marinade, but a passable approximation.  I was happy.  My husband also enjoyed it. 






Sunday, November 9, 2014

Pumpkin-Squash Soup

When fall rolls around, I get really excited to see pumpkins and other squash at the grocery store.  Hello, delicious!  One of my favorite ways to eat pumpkin is soup.  Pumpkin soup is something I first encountered in Germany, and cannot get enough of.  At least in Germany, it tends to be a savory, flavorful dish-- like most soups-- not liquid pumpkin pie (as a few of my friends have been disappointed to discover).  I did recently have some that was less savory and had spices reminiscent of pumpkin pie, so I guess that's actually a decent assumption.  But really, not very sweet liquid pumpkin pie struck me as a little bland, so I'll keep adding onions, salt, and plenty of flavor.  
     Last year I made it but never got a chance to post it to my blog.  In that version, I used canned pumpkin puree (make sure it is pure pumpkin, NOT pumpkin pie filling!), an acorn squash, and about half of a butternut squash leftover from something else.  This year I used a turban squash and about half of a pie pumpkin (don't use a jack-o'-lantern pumpkin-- they're too watery).   That is the recipe that will be posted below.
Basically, use whatever winter squash or pumpkin you like-- it's a pretty flexible recipe.

Pumpkin-Squash Soup
1 turban squash
1/2 pie pumpkin
1/3 C chopped onion
2 medium carrots, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
2 Tbsp oil or butter
1 qt chicken or vegetable stock
pinch of nutmeg
1/2 C milk or cream

Begin by prepping your squash/ pumpkin.  If you can, it helps to break it down into halves or quarters.  If you can't, poke it a few times with a knife to allow steam to vent while cooking.  If using halves or quarters, scrape out the seeds.  Place the squash (or pumpkin) in a shallow, microwave-safe dish and microwave about 5 minutes or so, until tender.  If using quarters or halves, you may want to put a small amount of water in the dish as well, to prevent over-drying.  A whole squash will likely need more time, but at this point it will be soft enough to break into pieces and scoop out the seeds.
After microwaving, do yourself as favor and let it cool.  I usually use this time to prep my other veggies.  Afterward, scoop out the flesh of the pumpkin/squash and set it aside.  If you're using canned pumpkin, it's already at this stage.  

In you soup pot, heat the oil or butter over medium-high heat and add the onion, garlic, carrots, and celery.  Sauté about 5 minutes until onion is slightly browned.  Add the squash and pumpkin, and allow to cook a few minutes more, until there is some browning of the squash/pumpkin.  Add chicken stock and about 1 qt water.  (You can use only water, but there is more flavor if you use stock; you can also use extra stock, I just usually have a quart of it frozen.)  Season with salt and pepper.  Bring the soup to a boil, then reduce it to a simmer.  Allow the soup to simmer about half an hour (or longer, if you like) so that everything is super-tender and the flavors are all well-integrated.  

Remove from heat.  If you've got an immersion blender (I highly recommend having one; my mom thinks they're under-powered and over-rated, but I've used mine for everything from chocolate-tempering to smoothies, and it just saves so much time when making soups.) you can immediately puree the soup.  If you have a traditional blender or food processor, you NEED to let the soup cool.  You can rig a cooling set-up to speed it along a bit, but it's going to be a big time sink.  Puree the soup to an even texture.  (The sneaky carrots will try to avoid you!)

Return the soup to low heat and allow to heat up.  Add the milk and nutmeg, and check your salt/pepper seasoning again.  Enjoy!

Some other variations on this include adding apples and/or potatoes.  The latter makes for a more substantial soup, but means you'll certainly want to add more salt and pepper.  The apple can contribute flavor-- a little bit of sweetness or tartness, depending on what type (I prefer a more tart apple).  Using yogurt or sour cream can also be a nice substation for milk, adding a little bit of tanginess.  

My husband thought it was a tad bland, but good.  I think I might have needed a bit more salt and pepper.  I might try adding some diced ham for his benefit, too.  Curry would also go nicely, and give it another layer of warmth.

As I stated in the beginning, I wait all year for this.  I love making pumpkin/squash soup.  Also, since everything is pureed, it freezes well.  If you are going to freeze it, do so before adding the milk; it can separate oddly after freezing.


Saturday, November 1, 2014

Schnitzel-style Chicken Tenders

Schnitzel is, as you are probably aware, a German classic.  But you mightn't know what it is.  Basically, it is veal or pork pounded thin and flat, breaded, then pan-fried.  It ends up being delicious and crispy, the perfect accompaniment to a tangy German potato salad.  A traditional one might be something for me to blog about later.  This blog, however, will be a riff on schnitzel-- a quick chicken strip dinner. 

Schnitzel-style Chicken Tenders
1 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1 egg
1 Tbsp milk
1/4 C flour
1/2 C breadcrumbs
salt and pepper
butter and/or bacon fat

Begin by placing the chicken between two pieces of plastic wrap.  Pound flat with a meat tenderizer, rolling pin, or other blunt instrument.  Your goal is an even 1/4 inch thick piece.  Cut it into strips, about 1 to 1 1/2 inches wide.

On a plate or in a shallow dish, combine the flour with approximately 1/2 tsp. of some salt and pepper.  In another shallow dish, beat the egg and milk together.  In yet another shallow dish, combine the bread crumbs with about 1 tsp salt and pepper.

Take a strip of chicken and coat it in the flour, then the egg, and finally the bread crumbs.  Repeat with each piece of chicken.

Finally, heat some butter, bacon fat, or even a bit of oil (or a mixture of those) in a pan over medium-high heat.  It doesn't need to be a lot of grease, but enough to completely cover the bottom of the pan.  Place the chicken in the pan and cook until crisp and brown.  Flip, and cook until crisp and brown on the other side; it shouldn't take long if you've gotten the chicken nice and thin.

Serve with a veggie of your choice.  It's better with something semi-acidic, like a salad with a  vinaigrette.  

While this is a quick meal, rushing it can lead to some problems.  I didn't get my chicken as thin as I would have liked, so the outside got crispy before the inside was fully cooked.  Try to avoid this by taking the time to get it FLAT.  If your chicken isn't fully cooked, do not despair.  Throw it in the microwave to finish cooking quickly.  It's not ideal, but it works.

I like my chicken strips with a sauce; a mustard-based sauce is very nice for these, because the acidic tanginess will balance the chicken nicely.  No sauce is really needed, though, or any sauce will do nicely.  Like BBQ?  Go with that.  Ranch?  Sure!  Eat it the way you like.







Tuesday, October 14, 2014

In a pickle

I had produce!  I successfully grew a bumper crop of green beans and a fair number of cucumbers this summer.  Now, when I was a kid, my mom would take all the cucumbers from my dad's garden (he had more than 1 plant, so there was a plethora of cucumbers), borrow a giant enameled pot from our neighbor, and make pickles.  She'd make two kinds: bread and butter, which I think no one but her ate, and dill.  I, being a ungrateful, but probably typical child, didn't ever like her dill pickles either.  First, they didn't taste like the ones from the store.  Secondly, they were in quarters.  I never liked quartered pickles.  Guess what?  I grew up.  I learned that things that don't taste like the pre-packaged variety are not bad; they're often quite good.  Alas, I learned too late.  We moved, my dad doesn't (can't?) grow cucumbers anymore, and we no longer have a neighbor with a pot for us to borrow for processing.  But I learned about canning from some wonderful folks at church last fall, and after my venture into confit (see previous blogs ____ and _____), I was able to get a canning pot (just like one we borrowed!) and some jar tongs from my in-laws.  At the time, I just thought it would make sterilizing jars easier.  But faced with my own garden produce and all those circumstances, there was one thing to do: pickle.





Garlic Dill Pickles--Cucumber and Green Bean
This recipe is taken from another website, and slightly modified.
Cucumbers
Green Beans
1 1/2 C cider vinegar
1 1/2 C water
2 Tbsp kosher salt
8 cloves garlic, peeled
4 tsp dill seeds
2 tsp black peppercorns
1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes

Wash two quart jars in hot water.  Let them air dry.  Sterilize the lids in a small pot of gently simmering water.  Begin bringing a canning bath to a boil.

Rinse and chop the cucumbers.  I cut them into quarters/wedges.  Pack them into one of the clean jars along with half the garlic, dill, peppercorns, and pepper flakes.  Rinse the green beans and trim off the ends, and pack them into the other jar with the other half of the spices.  Don't crush your veggies while you're packing!

In another smallish pot, combine the vinegar, water, and salt to make pickling brine.  Bring it to a boil, then carefully pour it into each of the jars.  Leave some space between the things you've put in the jar and the rim-- about 1/4 inch minimum.  (I only filled to the base of the rim.)

Wipe the jar rims, and put one of your nice, clean, sterilized lids on top.  Gently screw on the rim to "fingertip tight"-ness.  I take this literally, perhaps sillily, and use only my thumb and forefinger of each hand to hold the jar and twist the rim.

Hopefully by now your canning bath is at a boil.  Gently lower your jars into the bath, and make sure the water level is over the tops of the jars.  Once the water comes back to a boil, start a timer for ten minutes.

After ten minutes, remove the jars from the water and allow them to cool on the counter overnight.  Other recipes I've seen recommend not touching them while they cool, because that can mess up the seal formation.  If the jars do not seal (the lids will pop in when they do), refrigerate the pickles.  Wait at least a week for them to mature before you start noshing.

The cucumbers turned out well.  I didn't use a specific pickling cucumber-- I used the ones in my garden, and I don't remember what variety they may have been.  They were larger than pickles usually are.  The texture might have been influenced by that.  They're not quite normally textured, but they're not bad.  Similarly, the flavor is different than either my husband and I had had before.  We agreed they're yummy, just different.  I found the flavor really grew on me.  We discovered the spiciness of the crushed pepper flakes didn't distribute throughout the jar.  We had some awesomely hot pickles, and some milder ones.

Obviously, this was a cucumber pickle recipe.  The green beans I made turned out shrivel-y, but that's an aesthetic thing.  The bigger concern is that it is not recommended to can green beans without a pressure canner, because you can't be sure you're killing all the bacteria.  I kept them in the fridge, and watch them for signs of bacterial growth (the lid popping back up) to make sure I wasn't going to poison myself or my husband.

Finally, this recipe was a good start.  I wanted to venture into pickling, and now I have.  I liked that it is a small-batch recipe, which was great for someone who doesn't necessarily know what they're doing or how it will turn out.








Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Savory French Toast

My husband and I bought a beautiful baguette on a whim, and I decided that since I had some lovely French bread, I would make some lovely French toast.  And then I opened my spice cabinet and got to thinking-- why is French Toast always sweet?  Usually eggs are savory, and they're what really make French Toast.  So why can't French Toast be savory?  To that end, I didn't grab cinnamon, and made up an intentionally not-sweet French Toast.









Savory French Toast
4 slices of baguette-- slice on an angle for more surface area
1 egg
2-3 Tbsp cream
pinch salt
1/8 tsp pepper
dash cumin
dash coriander
1/8 tsp thyme
1/2 Tbsp bacon fat (or butter)
Parmesan cheese

Combine everything from the eggs to the thyme on a plate, and stir  to combine.  Set the bread slices in the plate and allow to soak up the mixture for about a minute.  Flip the bread and allow it to soak up the remaining mixture; you may want/need to move the bread around to mop up the mixture.  
Melt the bacon fat in a pan over medium-high heat.  Place the baguette pieces in the pan and sprinkle with parmesan cheese, then allow to cook until just slightly browned; flip it over and repeat.  You'll need to flip the toast one more time to stick the second sprinkle of parmesan.  It'll need only 15-30 seconds.  Serve hot.

My husband passed on this; as I started typing it up, he got disappointed.  Which, in my opinion, he should well be.  It was delicious.  Salty and flavorful, it was a nice alternative to either a sweet breakfast or eggs.  I paired it with a little bit of savory blueberry sauce I had leftover from some lamb, which served as a lovely alternative to syrup to really complete the savory breakfast.