Crock Pot Party & My New Favorite Chili

My cousin Edie had the BEST idea for a winter party - everybody bring your crock pot with your favorite wintery soup, chili, chowder, whatever in it AND BRING YOUR TUPPERWARE.  After everybody eats, divy up the dishes to take home, so you never eat the same leftover twice. And it tastes even better because somebody else made it!

BRILLIANT.

Not only did we have a great time, we're still enjoying the spoils!  Enhancements to this party might be to assign desserts or side dishes like oyster crackers of just plain Saltines, or Fritos.  OR a crock-off contest and a vote to see whose recipe is the best. I really hope to have one of these in the future.  All the hostess might need is some paper bowls & spoons, shredded cheese, and chopped up green onions.

And Tabasco.

Though all the soups were delicious, my personal favorite was venison chili prepared by my cousin Trotter from his wife Laine's recipe.  I adored the new twist to chili, the different textures and colors contained in the same pot, and the fact that it's really good for you.  Though I never actually asked for the recipe, I went home and did like my grandmother Cha-Cha would - improvised until I came up with it!

Chili Chowder
Olive oil
1 head celery, chopped
2 onions, chopped
1 pound ground beef or turkey
1 13-16 ounce bigass sausage (beef or turkey), cut into bite-sized pieces
Chili powder to taste
1 large can crushed tomatoes
2 16 ounce cans diced tomatoes with chili seasoning
1 can light red beans, rinsed
1 can kernel corn, rinsed
Salt, pepper, garlic powder to taste

In a large pot, sautee the celery and onions in the olive oil.
Add the ground beef and sausage until browned and cooked through.
Add chili powder to taste.
Dump in the tomatoes, beans, corn, salt, pepper, and garlic powder.
Simmer as long as you want.

BAM.  Dinner.  Garnish with green onions, cheese, sour cream, Fritos, saltines, oyster crackers.....

And Tabasco.

Turkey & Dressing Casserole

While pregnant with Avery, I became a bit of a freezer packrat. I would cook up vast pots of this or that and freeze most of it so we would have something easy to pull out when time was short. Combined with culinary contributions from friends and family, nine months later, our freezer is just now beginning to once again look normal, and it's no longer a fight to close the thing. I'm considering revising my birthday wish from a deep freezer to something from Tiffany.

So it was a welcome surprise the other day to uncover the leftovers from last Thanksgiving: our dear friends Cindy and James gave us the most fabulously smoked turkey I'd ever put in my mouth, and the remaining meat, though not enough to make many more meals, was simply too good to throw away. I'd considered making turkey noodles out of it, but that's something you can do with bare bones, and we still had enough meat for a turkey & dressing casserole.
Though this dish is just what it sounds like - dressing with a little good turkey meat thrown in - it's unfortunately one that takes a little eyeballing to get the consistency right. I don't know why people freak out about dressing so much. It's nothing more than a savory bread pudding. Remember that you need enough broth so that it pours in clumps into your baking dish, and it should be just right.

1 bell pepper, chopped

1 cup chopped celery

1 onion, chopped

1 stick butter

1 10-inch skillet of cornbread

4-6 slices bread (white or wheat - I use the heels)

4-6 ounces mushrooms

1-2 boiled eggs

leftover turkey meat

about a quart of chicken broth

4 eggs, lightly beaten

salt & pepper to taste - rosemary is also good.

• Melt the butter in a skillet and saute the bell pepper, celery, onion, and mushrooms if they are fresh.
• In a large bowl, crumble the breads.
• Add mushrooms (if canned), chopped boiled eggs, meat, raw eggs, and salt & pepper.
• Stir in the chicken broth until very moist, almost soupy.
• Pour into casserole and bake at 450 until bubbly, about 30 minutes.

Now I need to make some chiffon pumpkin pie.

Busy Girl's Chicken and Dumplins

Just look at that fat on the right side of the pot! Daisy would be proud.

The other day I visited my good friend Leslie while she put chicken n' dumplins in the pot to cook. Does this ever happen to you? When a friend mentions a certain food, and nothing will do until you have some of the same stuff? The first cool breeze of autumn is upon us and has inspired me to fix up a stew. Leslie's were probably better tasting and definitely better for you, but I just had to give dark meat chicken in the crock pot a shot.

Daisy might actually be rolling in her grave, as I didn't have time to hand-make the dumplings for this go-round, and I wasn't available to monitor stovetop cooking. It was one of those days when I'd dropped by the house around 1 PM to realize there was nothing to eat for supper, yet I still had two more appointments to knock out before the day was over. What to do, what to do... Dump something in the crock pot!

1 cup celery, chopped

1 medium onion, chopped

2-3 pounds boneless, skinless chicken. I used thighs, but white meat breasts would be much better for you and would have a lot less fat.

1 can cream of chicken soup

1 can cream of celery soup

1 teaspoon white pepper, or to taste

1 teaspoon black pepper, or to taste

Enough water to cover and make it the consistency you prefer

1 - 12 ounce can of refrigerated biscuits

Handful of mushrooms (optional)

1. Sauté the celery and onion in butter or olive oil until soft.
2. Dump the sautéed celery and onion, chicken, soups, seasonings and water into the crock pot.
3. Set on high for 6 hours.
4. About 3-4 hours in to cooking, flatten out biscuits with a rolling pin and cut into strips.
5. Add the mushrooms if you'd like some (they were an afterthought for me).
6. Add biscuits to crock pot, stir it around, and cover for remaining cook time.
7. The biscuits will float to the top and probably brown. When cooking is done, just stir it all up and break chicken into pieces.
8. Prepare to have some meat put on your bones.

Did you notice I said "about 3-4 hours in to cooking?" Well, I'm not exactly sure when I added the dumplins: it was in between those two afternoon appointments, and I was kind of running around like a chicken with my head cut off, if you'll excuse the pun. Since crock pot recipes are pretty forgiving, I bet you could put the chicken on low heat when you leave for work, then add the dumplins right when you get home and kick it up to high so they'll be ready in a couple of hours. This stuff keeps great and is better the next day.

This recipe was adapted from one found at AllRecipes.com.

The Methodist Ladies' Chicken Lasagna Florentine

It's a glorious Monday morning here in beautiful downtown Burbank. 74 degrees (I know - shocker!), the sun is rising, and I am up, dressed, and ready for the day. Taking Dante for a W-A-L-K? Ah... No. Going outside to work in the garden? Nope. Off to the grocery store while it's still cool? Of course not! I'm sitting on my duff, waiting for the painters. Last time they were two hours late, and they said they would arrive at 7:00 this morning, which I suppose translates to sometime around 4 this afternoon. The day is totally shot.

Well, not completely. Laundry is running, dishes are washing, and here I sit, making good on my resolution to blog more often.

This is another excerpt from my current favorite read, Being Dead is No Excuse. Despite the subject material, this really is a funny cookbook written in somewhat sarcastic hyperbole (yet the truth comes in jest, you know) that strikes a chord in me. If you live in the South, these people are your neighbors.

For once, we're at a loss for words. Pecans and lasagna? But this is the quintessential Methodist death dish, and it's so good it'll kill you.

Ingredients:

6 lasagna noodles, uncooked

1 (10-ounce) package chopped frozen spinach, thawed

2 cups cooked, chopped chicken breasts (about 3 medium breasts)

2 cups shredded cheddar cheese

1/3 cup finely chopped onion

1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons white pepper

1 Tablespoon soy sauce

1 can (10 3/4 ounce) cream of mushroom soup (of course.)

1 (8-ounce) carton sour cream

1/3 cup homemade mayonnaise (I used our olive oil stuff, and it came out just as well.)

3/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese (or to taste)

Butter Pecan Topping (see below)

• Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
• Cook the noodles according to the package directions, drain and set aside.
• Darin the spinach well, pressing between layers of paper towels (or kitchen towels).
• Combine the spinach, chicken, cheddar cheese, onion, nutmeg, salt, pepper, soy sauce, soup, sour cream, and mayonnaise in a large bowl; stir to blend.
• Arrange half the lasagna noodles in a lightly greased 11 x 7 x 1 1/2-inch baking dish.
• Spread half the chicken mixture over the noodles.
• Repeat this procedures with the remaining noodles and chicken mixture.
• Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and Butter Pecan Topping.
• Bake, covered, for 55 to 60 minutes, or until hot and bubbly.
• Let stand for 15 minutes before cutting.
• Serves eight.

Butter Pecan Topping

Ingredients:

2 Tablespoons butter or margarine

1 cup chopped pecans

• Melt the butter in a skillet over medium heat; add the pecans and cook for 3 minutes.
• Cool completely.

Beware: this stuff is super-duperly rich, so have a side salad nearby. The spices are great though, so I would recommend following that part of the recipe rather closely, which you know is odd for me. Especially with a casserole. Mike calls it "the chicken stuff," and requests it often.

Now for a little lagniappe: the photo below was taken at Grace Church Cemetery in St. Francisville, Louisiana. The structure is in the back of the antebellum churchyard, and Mike and I were transfixed by the architecture, brickwork, and current state of ruin. My guess is that it was some sort of crypt - there was another opening on the other side - but Mike didn't seem to agree. The other entrance was below ground level and had been haphazardly covered up with a road sign by some authority, only to be pushed aside by teenagers looking for a spooky thrill.

What do you think it is? Can you imagine the stories, sordid and toe-curling, that might have occurred at this eerie kind of spot?

Fried Catfish

I'm pretty sure this is not what the doctor meant when he said, "Eat more fish."

But is sure is awfully good. I've never had homemade catfish before, and let me just tell you. I burned the roof of my mouth on this stuff. Crunchy on the outside, hot, juicy, and even creamy on the inside. Makes my mouth water just thinking about it.

I suppose you could say I've been in a fishy mood ever since the weather warmed up. The problem with fish is that you have to skip to the grocery every day you want it to be sure it's fresh. Not so. On a whim, I bought a box of frozen catfish fillets at the Kroger. Every other night I take two fillets out of the freezer and put them in the fridge. Then after about 24-36 hours, they're thawed and ready to go. Can't be much easier than that.

So I've had a good time trying out different ways to cook it. The first time I tried grilling, but I couldn't figure out how to make the grill hot enough with the fish basket on top. Will have to wait for Mike's help on that one. I finished it off in a skillet with some olive oil and fresh mushrooms. Yum.

Then this time I fried it.

1. Take as many catfish fillets as you want. These were pretty big, but you can also buy frozen catfish nuggets that would work just as well, if not better, for frying.
2. Salt and pepper the fillets to taste.
3. Sprinkle them with some paprika.
4. Dredge them in a mixture of 1/2 flour, 1/2 corn meal.
5. Lay them out on a cooling rack to dry for 5 minutes.
6. Meanwhile, heat the oil to 350-375 degrees.
7. Slowly lower the fish in the oil and cook until golden brown. I think it was about 10 minutes.
8. Drain on a cooling rack and dig in.

Tonight? Broiling.

Coconut Chicken

If Mike wasn't allergic to shrimp, this post would be entitled, "Coconut Shrimp," but he is, so I exchange chicken fingers for all things shrimp in the kitchen. That's not to say I haven't tried to force Mike into eating shrimp. On our first real date (we had been friends for more than a year before we started dating), I fed him sushi with a big wad of shrimp in it, completely forgetting his allergy. His response? Jokingly something along the lines of "wait until my life insurance is paid up next time."

He's so cool.

Anyway, this recipe is simple and gives a huge return on your investment. I especially love the juxtaposition of sweet coconut crunch to savory juicy chicken. The most difficult part is waiting for the oil to heat up in the deep fryer that my good friend Jessica gave me. I'm such a kitchen dork that I squeal with honest and unabashed delight when the box reveals something like a deep fryer. I didn't measure anything while I was making it, though, so you'll have to bear with me on the volumes of the ingredients. Take everything with a grain of salt (no pun intended) and tweak it as you go along.

1 package chicken fingers, optionally soaked overnight in buttermilk

2 quarts peanut oil

1 cup flour

1 teaspoon black pepper

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon Tony Chachere's

1/2 cup flaked coconut

2 eggs

1/2 cup Louisiana hot sauce

Orange marmalade and cilantro for dipping

1. Heat the oil to 350 degrees in a deep fryer, or if you don't have a deep fryer, use the deepest frying pan you can find. Either way be very careful with hot oil, watch out for smoke, and keep a fire extinguisher handy. Never ever ever use water to put out an oil fire.
2. In a medium bowl, combine the flour, pepper, salt, Tony's, and coconut.
3. In another medium bowl, whisk together the eggs and hot sauce.
4. Once the oil is hot enough, dip a chicken finger in the egg mixture, then in the flour mixture. For extra-krispy, go back to the egg and in the flour one more time.
5. Slowly slip the finger into the oil.
6. Work in batches of 4 or 6.
7. After about 5-9 minutes, the chicken should be a golden brown.
8. Remove from the oil and drain on a cooling rack over newspapers.
9. Finely chop the cilantro and mix well into the marmalade.
10. Try not to burn your tongue by eating them too soon after frying.

Goes great with onion rings.

Lazy Pimento Cheese

What food made you realize you'd grown up? Spinach? Black eyed peas? Chicken a-la-king? Which dish was the one that your mom would spend the entire meal trying to make you eat, only to meet your firmly clamped teeth, but five, ten, fifteen years down the road you realize hey, this stuff is pretty good?

I remember Cha-Cha trying to make me eat blackeyed peas. She finally managed it by carving the top out of a piece of cornbread and saying they were the eggs in a nest. I probably only ate a total of 10 peas, but that kind of creativity was entirely too much for a five year old to ignore.

Mike still doesn't like pimento cheese and probably never will, but I surprised myself the other day with a craving. It was a warm, beautiful springlike day outside, and my mind went directly to pimento cheese. Blech. Where did that come from? When I was a kid, I would have sooner had a mayonnaise sandwich than pimento cheese (blech). Even in my mind I would think of it not as simply "pimento cheese," but "pimento cheese blech."

What the hell is a pimento, anyway? As a kid I probably didn't like pimento cheese (blech) because it didn't taste like olives. Because after all, green olives are the only known source of pimentos, aren't they? Except for the Wal-mart brand, which replaced its pimentos with some red gelatinous substance that made me think of jelly beans. Hmm. Pimento-flavored jelly beans. Sounds like a case for Bertie Bott.

But I digress.

I did like my cousin Cliff's mama's pimento cheese, but he told me the recipe when I was tipsy, so there's no hope of my remembering it. So I bought 16 ounces of shredded sharp cheddar cheese. Hey, if this was going to be an off-the-top-of-my-head recipe for something I didn't even think I liked, I wasn't going to put an awful lot of effort into it.

16 ounces sharp cheddar. Dumped into a bowl.

Ok. Now what? Pimentos! Took a 4-ounce can and dumped that on top of the cheese.

Pimentos and cheese. Need something to keep them together. What would Mom have used....

Mayonnaise! I added about half a cup. You could probably go lower-fat and use sour cream, but really. It's cheese. There isn't that much help for it.

At this point I stuck my head in the bowl and smelled to see what else it needed. I added a dash of garlic powder, onion powder, and salt. Then I added a few dashes of black pepper, Worcestershire sauce, and Tabasco.

And I stirred it all up.

But it was missing something to make it my own dish. So I gave it 4 or 5 liberal dashes of my favorite, Cheyenne pepper. And there you have it. Fran's pimento cheese.

Oh, and the green beans? They're green bean chips from the Fresh Market. Asher mentioned them the other day, and I had to find out what all the fuss was about. They're delicious!

Tomorrow's Beef Stew

I have never been a patient woman.

Which makes me all the more happy and astounded at my fortune of marrying Mike Peacock. Don't tell anyone, but unbeknownst to yours truly, Mike carried my engagement around in his pocket for three months. THREE MONTHS.

And the whole time I had no idea of his intentions. And when he was finally ready to make his intentions known? On July 11, 2006 on that elegant white sandy beach, with the breeze in our hair, the surf on our toes, full moon and our own private fireworks show overhead? When he asked, "What do you think of getting married?" Do you know what I said?

"Well, I don't know. To whom?"

Thus began an infamously complimentary relationship in which he is the stoic solid rock who keeps our life steady and stable and I am the catalyst who makes things happen right now.

So you can imagine my chagrin and horror when I took the first bite of this stew on the day it was made and wanted to promptly spit it back out. It was so bland. Cafeteria mashed potatoes and grits bland. And no amount of salt, pepper, or Tabasco could help it. I was distraught. I was disappointed. I was kicking myself for wasting so much meat with an off-the-top-of-my-head recipe.

Mike was eating it.

So I thanked him for choking down such bland stew and promised to throw it out and have something fresh for him the next day. He said, "Why? It'll only be better tomorrow."

And you know what? It totally was.

2-3 pounds stew meat, cut into bite-sized pieces

2 onions, chopped

3-4 cloves garlic, minced

4-6 cups beef broth

1 cup red wine

1 bay leaf

3 Tablespoons corn starch

3-4 potatoes, chopped into 1/2 inch cubes

1 pound bag of baby carrots

Salt, pepper, and Tabasco to taste

1. Combine the meat, onions, garlic, broth, wine, seasonings, and bay leaf in a crock pot.
2. Cook on low for 4 hours.
3. Take out one cup of liquid and thoroughly mix the corn starch to that reserved liquid.
4. Return corn starch mixture to the crock pot.
5. Add potatoes and carrots if you want them fully cooked or wait until later in the cooking process for more crunchy vegetables.
6. Cook for another 4-8 hours.
7. (The hardest part for me) Refrigerate overnight and reheat in a regular pot on the stove.
8. Goes rather well with biscuits.

Pork Florentine

Cabin fever.

It hasn't completely set in yet, as Mike and I set out for a quick trip to Walgreen's and to put gas in his car this afternoon. But when the high in Mississippi is 28 degrees, well, we just don't get out that much. And it's snowing in Atlanta. You should have SEEN the hordes at the Kroger on Wednesday; that's how I realized bad weather was on the way. If a snowflake is spotted in Texas you can bank that there will be a run on bread and buttermilk in Mississippi.

We're trying to keep busy and moving in the house, but there's only so much we can do inside. The neighborhood pond has frozen over except for where the two pumps keep water moving, and even those circles of movement are giving up to the ice. Our bodies aren't accustomed to this kind of weather, and we both get instant brain freeze upon walking outside.

The cat and dog L.O.V.E. it.

It's like somebody has set them both on fire. I suppose it's a function of movement = warmth, but when the dog isn't curled up shivering next to me for MY warmth, he's frisking and running laps through the house and being as much of a pest as he can be to Kearney, who has taken up residence in Dante's bed. When Kearney isn't bedded down, he is begging, pleading, DEMANDING that we let him outside RIGHT THIS MINUTE.

So I figured I'd pull out an old recipe that I developed back in April of 2008. This was a matter of me wandering around the grocery store thinking, "Hmm. I like pork. And I like spinach. Let's put them together." And this is what I discovered. It's actually more of a springtime/summer dish I suppose, but you can raid your freezer and pantry and probably come up with something similar and probably tastier. The basic premise is to wrap meat up around something savory and roast it. Pull out some puff pastry, wrap that around the meat, and bam! Wellington.

And afterward you can huddle around the open oven for warmth as it cools down.

Preparation time: 20 minutes
Roast time: 30-40 minutes
Yield: 6-8 servings
Pan Preparation: lightly greased cooling or roasting rack, kitchen twine

1 ½ - 2 pound pork tenderloin (can be marinated overnight)
2/3 - 1 cup olive tapenade
16 ounces frozen chopped spinach, seasoned and cooked, drained, and squeezed dry
½ – ¾ cup feta cheese crumbles

1. Preheat oven to 425, and salt and pepper the outside of the tenderloin to taste.
2. Using a very sharp knife, and being careful not to slice all the way through the meat, make a rectangle of pork.
3. Make a long horizontal slice about ½ inch from the bottom of the pork, to about ½ inch from the other side.
4. Open up the pork like a book, and make another incision, again toward the bottom of the meat, ½ inch shy of the opposing side. Press down to flatten.
5. Lightly grease a roasting rack with cooking spray, and line the pan with aluminum foil. Set the opened pork on top of the roasting rack, perpendicularly to the rings of the rack.
6. Spread the olive tapenade evenly on the pork, pressing into the meat.
7. Spread the spinach on top of the tapenade, again, pressing down to flatten.
8. Top the spinach with feta crumbles.
9. Slowly roll up the pork lengthwise, and tie with kitchen twine.
10. Roast pork for 30-45 minutes, or until internal temperature reaches 155-160 degrees.
11. Allow meat to rest for 5 minutes after removing from oven.

Cats photo courtesy of icanhascheezburger.

Happy New Year!

My family has a few strict rules born of superstition and bred in convenience. For instance, all Christmas decorations must, MUST be put be completely put away by midnight on December 31st. A conversation held by Mike and me early last week:

Me: I'm taking the tree down on Tuesday so it can be on the street by Wednesday.

Mike: They're recycling the Christmas trees on Saturday (the SECOND), so why don't you wait to take it down until I'm here to help you?

Me: I don't care when the hell they're recycling squat. The tree will be down and OUT OF MY HOUSE on Wednesday.

See what a lifetime of musts will do to a woman?

Another must involves what one eats on New Year's Day. It doesn't matter how much you eat, but everyone must, MUST eat at least one bite each of greens, black eyed peas, ham, and grits. The greens represent money for the year, the peas good health, the ham prosperity, and well, we forget what the grits stand for, but they go well with everything else.

All my life, somebody who knew what they were doing made greens for us. But New Year's Day lunch was up to me this year, so I had to gird my loins and tackle a great Southern challenge: good greens made from scratch.

Have you ever tried canned greens? Don't. Just don't.

How to do greens? I seem to remember hamhocks were somehow integrally involved. So during my Wednesday morning Krogering, I picked up a few along with four bunches of collards. I figured smoked ones would be best. As I was looking them over, a little lady asked me, "Now, what's a skinny white girl like you know what to do with hamhocks?" To which I had to respond that Daisy's dead, Mattie's up in years, and CJ's husband won't let her come down to Clinton from Canton, so it's up to me. That seemed to appease her.

I also wanted to do blackeyed peas, so I bought three hamhocks: two for the greens and one for the peas. I probably could have just done one hamhock each, but this was a special dinner. Once home, I barely covered the hamhocks in water in the crock pot and cooked the heck of out them -about 12 hours on low - to tenderize the meat and create a lovely broth. At the same time, I soaked the bagged dried blackeyed peas to rehydrate them. And I marinated the pork loin.

I have to insert here that under no circumstances should you smell smoked hamhocks that have been in a crock pot for 12 hours straight. Women who are pregnant or nursing should not be anywhere closeby. Like lard, the smell isn't that pleasant. But have patience, and they will create for you the best damn broth in which to cook vegetables. Period.

Later on New Year's Eve, I actually cooked the peas and greens. Channeling Daisy, I drained the blackeyed peas of their soaking water and replaced it with 3 cups hamhock broth, 3 cups water, 1 Tablespoon salt, and a hamhock. And I set them on the stove over low heat.

I rinsed and washed the collards, cut out the thick veins in the middle, and chopped up the leaves. They filled my 6 quart stock pot to the top,but I knew they would cook down. To that I added two hamhocks, the rest of the hamhock stock, 3 Tablespoons salt (turned out to be too much - read on), 2 Tablespoons pepper, and for good luck, the left over Tom Turkey butter (4 ounces) that Mom gave us for Christmas. She gave us 2, and I thought it was a good gesture to melt down the last one on the last day of the year.

Love me some butter. Goodbye Tom Turkey, and goodbye 2009!
I set the greens over low heat too and let them cook for hours upon hours. Then I let the pots cool down enough to put them in the fridge and refrigerated them overnight. The next morning I decided the greens were a little salty (I forgot that hamhocks have their own sodium that develops over time), so I added 2 chopped potatoes to each pot to soak up the salt. Worked like a charm.

We don't like slabbed ham, so I had Mike grill a pork loin marinated overnight in teriyaki and cherriyaki sauce. And Mom was good enough to bring the grits. So our lunch was blackeyed peas, collard greens, corn bread (because you CANNOT eat greens without corn bread), cheese grits, and grilled pork with pear chutney.

Here's to a great 2010. I'll have to try turnip greens for 2011.

Hamhock photo courtesy of Dorsey Meats, blackeyed peas photo courtesy HowStuffWorks.

Corn Chowder

Earlier this month, just before the holidays, a dear, close friend of mine shared with me that she was in charge of her entire family's Christmas dinner and expressed a smidge of trepidation over the affair. I have the luxury of a relatively small family, so cooking for 15+ over a holiday has never really been an option for me, but I do remember the Flynn Family Christmas Eve Extravaganzas, with a huge house filled to the brim with laughing adults and screaming children.

Hmm, now I'm shaking in my boots too.

But even though those were some of the happiest times of my life, they were also the most simple. I vividly remember the drunkenness of a child's pure happiness, glee, and delight. Everyone shared the feeling, and the Christmas spirit of my memory will keep me warm through to Spring.

But you know what else? Cha-Cha, my grandmother, never brought out the fine china on Christmas. And we didn't have help in the kitchen. We had a selection of corn chowder, chili, and taco soup on the stove. There's the pot. There's the ladle. Help yourself. At best we used the somewhat chipped or cracked white octagonal beaded-lip bowls of her everyday dishes, but usually we used paper plates, bowls, cups, and utensils.

And that was just part of the fun.

The happy part, the real part, was honestly loving and enjoying the people around me. Furthermore, we had the bonus of not worrying about breaking a piece of crystal or tarnishing the silver.

So for the rest of your celebrations, simple it up. Not like Sandra Lee. Take it back to your grandmother, your great-grandmother, or another lady you know who is better at conversation than cru d'ete.

My Unc' called the other day to let me know he was making this dish, and it instantly brought back the best memories of youth at my grandparents' house. He wanted to let me know that he was using the meat thermometer that we gave him a few Christmasses ago to set off an alarm before the chowder boils. Ingenious.

Corn Chowder

1 pound ham, cubed

3 pieces bacon

3-4 green onions, chopped

2 large cans creamed corn

1 small can kernel corn

1/2 quart half & half (MUST be half & half. Anything else doesn't taste right.)

2 large cubed potatoes

Milk

White pepper and salt to taste

Optional parsley for garnish

1. In a big pot, cook the 3 pieces of bacon until crisp.
2. Take out of pan & crumble.
3. Drain off all but 1 1/2 Tablespoon of grease for flavor.
4. Fry 3 or 4 green onions in grease.
5. Add ham & bacon and fry slightly.
6. Add corn & stir well.
7. Add half & half and mix well.
8. Add potatoes.
9. Top off pot with plain milk until desired consistency is achieved.
10. Cook gently - DO NOT BOIL - for 30 or 45 minutes until potatoes are done.

Photo courtesy of Dinner and Jam.

Chilly Chili

Along with the cold weather comes a need for a food that will warm us up from the inside out. Nothing can accomplish this feat when it's below freezing outside like a big pot of chili.

I like to make a vat of it: you never know when somebody might come over before caroling, to drop by a gift, or to curl up and watch a movie and need a little sustenance to take them on to their next holiday stop. And there is really nothing easier in the world of hospitality than handing somebody a bowl and a spoon and pointing them to the stove. Set out sour cream, various hot sauces, and of course Fritos, and voila, instant party.

Like spaghetti sauce, chili is one dish for which I have no set recipe. All I have is a basic premise, process, and ratio that I like. Except for one very important element: seasoning. Everybody in my family likes their chili in a very different way: Mike's taste preference depends on his mood, and I like it hot to nuclear. And since I make so much of it to share with other family and friends, I never know who will like it in which way.

For that reason, I usually season my chili relatively blandly, with only the basic seasonings to make it taste like chili, so we can season each individual bowl to our mood and like. Just last night we discovered a new hot sauce that goes especially well with my chili: jalapeño flavored Tabasco, courtesy of my dad. It gave the dish a brighter spicy that was oh so tasty.



The main point to remember: start with onions and ground beef. From there, just add ingredients slowly and one at a time to arrive at a final dish of which you can be proud. I have learned that chili is very personal: you might like yours soupy or so thick the spoon stands up in it (which is my personal preference). You might not like beans at all, so just leave them out.

Chili is truly a dish of "I like beef. And I like tomatoes. So let's dump them in a pot and try them together."

2 ounces olive oil

1-2 onions, chopped

4-6 cloves of garlic, minced

2 pounds 85-95% lean ground meat, like ground round or sirloin

Worcestershire to taste (1/2 - 1 Tablespoon)

Black pepper to taste (1/2 - 1 Tablespoon)

Salt to taste (1-2 Tablespoons)

Ground cumin to taste (1/2 - 1 Tablespoon)

Chili powder to taste (1-2 Tablespoons)

2 quarts or 4-5 cans of tomatoes, crushed, quartered, or chopped (I love to use preserved backyard tomatoes.)

2-3 cans red or kidney beans (You can use rehydrated bagged dry beans if you have the time. Just follow the directions on the back of the bag.)

3-4 Tablespoons corn starch (optional)

1. In a large pot, heat the oil and add onions to sautee until soft.
2. Toward the end of sauteeing the onions, add garlic and continue to sautee.
3. Add beef and seasonings and cook, stirring occasionally, until brown.
4. Drain the fat off the meat and add tomatoes and beans.
5. Stir well and cook until bubbly.
6. Take out about a cup of liquid and add to that the corn starch. Stir until completely incorporated and no lumps remain.
7. Return corn starch mixture to pot and cook this on low for as long as you want.
8. Really, as long as you want.
9. Stirring occasionally.
10. Just keep it warm on the stove.
11. Don't let it burn.
12. The longer you keep it heated, the smaller the beef chunks will become.
13. Don't leave it out unheated for 3 hours: at that point bacteria can grow.
14. When we're done with chili for the night, I'll let the pot cool and just put the whole shebang in the fridge. Be careful not to put it in too hot, as you don't want to raise the overall temperature in your fridge, which might lead to bacterial growth in other dishes.

Chili photo courtesy of MixMingleGlow.

Slow Boat to China

We went to China this past weekend. Didn't we mention?

Actually, our dear friends Ying and John were kind enough to have us over for dinner this past Saturday night for Chinese. John and I grew up together, and I had eaten at his parents' house a bunch of times, but it's been a while. I forgot how incredible authentic Chinese food is; it's completely different from the take out we're use to in America. And good for you! There is a good reason why the Chinese live so long, stay so healthy, and have such beautiful complexions.

The photo above is a detail of one of eight Hunan Province Chinese embroideries that Mike and I have hanging over our bed. My parents bought them in San Francisco on the first leg of their honeymoon, and I found them laid carefully in a drawer about 20 years later, perfectly preserved. They are all different; each has its own characters. All but one have a pair of birds: the lone avian is an eagle. Ying was sweet enough to translate each one for me, but I was dumb enough to promptly forget. I do remember that the inscription on the eagle has to do with prosperity in the workplace, while the pair of peacocks calls upon a happy and harmonious marriage. I will have to get Ying to decipher them for me once again, and this time I'll have to write the meanings on the back of the frames.

But I digress. Supper. Saturday night. Delicious!

Ying started us off with edamame, one of our favorite dishes and one that I can make myself at home. Everything went fancy from there, and I soon realized this meal was one that I could never replicate.

Ying brought out thin strips of beef and chicken to carefully cook in the hot plate on the table; I felt bad because she spent more time cooking than she did eating. The chicken and beef were marinated beautifully, and we used big lettuce leaves, nori, or (and this fascinated me to no end) very thinly fried egg in which to wrap the meat along with rice, sauces, crab, eggs, and vegetables. There were big chopsticks on the table for us to use, but I forgot and once used my personal chopsticks to snag some beef. Hope nobody noticed my taboo!


But wait, there's more.

Ying outdid herself with such a varitey of dishes. One of my favorites was steamed rice cakes and bean sprouts with a spicy Chinese sauce. It was so good I bit my tongue twice in my enthusiasm. We also had grilled marinated chicken, fried rice, and a list of deliciousness that I can neither pronounce nor spell. But it was so good. We ate until we were full, then until we were stuffed, and then until it was painful!


But wait! There's more!

Then Ying brought out cups of a drink (again, I can neither pronounce nor spell) of avocado, pineapple, and mango. I'll admit it was a little odd-looking to this American with its green hue. But wow, was it good! It also had black pearl tapioca in it to give texture and added nutrients. We were in heaven.

And Mike has added black pearls to my grocery list.



Oh yeah, there's MORE.
THEN John brought out a fruit tray with citrus, grapes, cherry tomatoes, and pineapple. THEN he brought out warm brownies with strawberry ice cream.

Then my pants ripped.

Thank you, John and Ying, for such a lovely evening filled with great food and exemplary company. I didn't eat for the next 24 hours. And John, I understand that the deal was for Ying to cook and you to clean, and that you had something to do with preparation before we arrived. I hope it wasn't too much trouble to clean up the ginormous mess we left!

I'll have to attempt to return the favor. Somehow fried chicken and biscuits just doesn't seem to compete.

Photos courtesy of Tskuba, Rikaty, Wikimedia, and Sea Point Farms.

Sex in a Basket

Don't look too closely at that picture: 1. prices are visible and that's tacky and 2, I never realized how grody the baskets at Fresh Market are. Eiw.

Anyway, Mike had a long day at work yesterday. So I promised to have a suprise happy waiting for him when he got home. Which meant a trip to Fresh Market with Asher. Inspired by Montie's cheese tray on Facebook, I hooked a basket under my arm and picked up whatever tickled my fancy.

I absolutely love antipasto. It is currently my favorite both to fix and to eat. Literally, it means, "before the meal," but last night we made it the whole meal, which is one of my favorite things to do. All you need is a big pretty plate and some imagination. I'm always suprised how many pick-up snacks we keep in the pantry, and antipastos generally end up much bigger than expected at our house.

And Mike loves a cheese plate. So easy to be so fancy! Pick up three different kinds of cheese - our favorites are also the most basic: Stilton (bleu), brie, and an exotic cheddar (though I truly love a good Wensleydale, I can't find them around here without added cranberries). Throw in some sliced fruit and crakers, and you're in business.

These are black figs stuffed with goat cheese and drizzled with honey. I read somewhere that this is the ultimate aphrodisiac. Better than oysters. Better than ginger. Better than cold duck or champagne. Better than Vitamin B-12.

They were pretty good.

So here's what we had for supper last night. From the top: olives stuffed with pimento, Stilton, olives stuffed with anchovies, applewood smoked cheddar, petit brie, and natural almonds.

Not pictured was another tray with black pepper-crusted salami, assorted nuts, sliced apples, grapes, and crackers. And we had fancy dark chocolate and raspberries for dessert. Mike had licorice to round out his suprise.

It made his day.

Chicken Chili

Ask a cook from Louisiana what the Holy Trinity is, and your answer will probably be bell peppers, onions, and celery instead of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. That's because those three ingredients are the base of so many Cajun dishes: etoufee, gumbo, casseroles, scrambled eggs. Almost any dish can benefit from the Cajun holy trinity.

I think I'm coming up with my own trinity, but it's from stuff with which God has blessed me in my own backyard: green bell peppers, onions, and jalapenos. We just don't eat enough celery for me to keep it in the fridge, and though I like the crunchy texture, Mike doesn't, and we both like more heat in our dishes than celery can provide.

We were so excited to find our bells had really come in while we were in Europe. They're bigger than my palm and hard to hold with one hand. Until Asher and I went to Fresh Market yesterday - those things are bigger than my head! They're like pumpkin bells! BUT. My bell peppers have three bumps to them (when you look at the bottom, there are three bumps), while the FM ones have four. Three bump bell peppers are sweeter and have a better flavor: I don't like four bump peppers raw because they have such a bitter taste. The skin and texture of four bump peppers is also generally more tough.

Anyway, I had a couple of chicken breasts to cook up for supper. But I wasn't in the mood for grilled chicken. And we were both sick of casseroles. What to do, what to do.... Something new and season-appropriate was definitely in order.

So I took out a big pot and started throwing stuff in. Bjork! Bjork! Bjork!

3 green bell peppers, preferrably three bump
1 medium onion
2-3 jalapeneo peppers, optional
3 Tablespoons olive oil
2 chicken breasts, poached and picked
2 cans red or kidney beans, drained and rinsed
2 cans diced tomatoes. I used a one-quart jar of tomatoes from our backyard. They smelled like summer when I opened them.2-4 cups (depending on the consistency you want) chicken broth
Salt to taste
Black pepper to taste
1-2 teaspoons cumin
1-2 teaspoons chili powder
1-2 teaspoons rosemary (just because I love the flavor of chicken and rosemary together)
1/8 teaspoon cheyenne pepper, optional
Rice or noodles for serving, optional.

1. Sautee the onion, jalapeno, and bell pepper (and yes, celery if you have it!) in the olive oil for about 5 minutes, enough to soften the vegetables.
2. Add the other ingredients (bjork!) and stir.
3. Flavors bloom overnight, so it's better the next day.
4. I had some whole-wheat noodles in the pantry, and they're very good with this dish.

Fearless Prime Rib

I can't believe that we have still yet to see Julie & Julia. Linda, when the hell are we going? I suppose life just gets busier and busier, germs abound, and it's no fun going to a movie when we and everyone around us have the sniffles.

Nevertheless, a theme that I have gleaned from the movie trailers and the blog is fearlessness in the kitchen. I have had this ribeye roast in the freezer for months. Ever since I found whole ribeyes on sale at the Kroger and had my butcher Carl slice 3/4 of it into 1-inch thick steaks and leave the rest as a roast.

Why a roast? What in the world was I going to do with an expensive-even-though-I-found-it-on-sale ribeye roast?? But I knew that Mike likes prime rib, and I figured time would give me the confidence I needed for this roast. After all, a prime rib is only a ribeye with the ribs still attched. The bone marrow would add extra flavor to the meat, but I'm pretty good with flavors, so I bet I could figure out how to overcome the fact that this piece of meat was missing its bones. After all, I could freeze it and save for later: I just needed the ribeye steaks to serve for Easter dinner.

Time went on, and every time I opened the freezer, there was that cut of meat. Just looking at me. Too thick to comfortably chicken out and cut into 1-inch thick steaks on my own. I've butchered meat myself, and I hated the idea of, ah, literally BUTCHERING this pretty piece on my own with the electric knife. The perfect piece to save for a big party, if only I knew what the hell I was doing with it! Meanwhile, it was just sitting there, taking up space, running out of time in storage.

So last week I sucked it up and set it in the fridge to defrost. No backing out now. A Wednesday night with my husband was special enough for this piece of meat. And after all, I DID find it on sale, so it was worth a practice for later. But what to do with a piece of meat like this? If I was this ribeye, how would I like to be prepared?

Hey, I'd want to be marinated.

So I marinated it overnight in a combination of olive oil, pomegranate-infused red wine vinegar, some leftover pinot noir, black pepper, rock salt, freshly-chopped garlic, and a little soy sauce. It was an excercise in smelling: before pouring on top of the meat, I'd smell the mixture and then smell what I was about to add to it. If it made my mouth water, I'd dump it in.

The original plan was to cook this baby on the grill, but the next day was extremely hot outside. In hindsight, I'm glad this happened, as grilling would have dried out the meat more than the braising did.

Why did I braise it, you might ask? Better yet, what the heck is braising? Per Wikipedia, "Braising (from the French "braiser") is a combination cooking method using both moist and dry heat; typically the food is first seared at a high temperature and then finished in a covered pot with a variable amount of liquid, resulting in a particular flavour." The particular flavor for which I was looking was a piece of meat that still had its bones attached, but I thought perhaps having the marinade close by would compensate.

You know very well I didn't sear the meat. But that marinade smelled too good to dump out of the sink. So I fashioned a foil reservoir in the rack of my roasting pan to hold it close to the meat. I then covered the meat loosely with the foil to trap in the moisture and hopefully result in a jucier final product without being too tough.

But before I put the roast in the oven, I topped it liberally with chopped fresh rosemary and freshly ground black pepper. Girding my loins and ritting my teeth against the possibility of a fantastic failure, I set the oven to 450 degrees and popped it in. After a while, it filled the house with a lovely aroma.

After a couple of hours, the meat thermometer went off. Well, would you look at that? It's edible.

Actually it wasn't edible. It was damn good! Next time I'll set the thermometer to a lower temperature so the meat is more rare. But the picture doesn't do it justice: the center was a really bright pink, and that was only the first slice. Once we delved deeper into it, it was full of delicious rare prime-riby goodness. But by then we were too busy eating said goodness to take a photo.

You know what? We should apply this fearlessness to our lives. What would we do, what could we accomplish, if we were not afraid?

Bobby's Rolled Catfish

Oh, how I love Mississippi. Where else would your local AT&T repair man grow up where you did, go to your high school's rival, and swap excellent service and a great catfish recipe for the jalapeno peppers growing in the backyard?

Did I mention he fixed the DSL too?

For those of you not from around here, the best catfish in the world is grown in farms on the Mississippi Delta, practically in our backyard. I remember passing them as a little girl in the pickup on the way to go duck hunting with my dad. Mike and I still pass some on the way to ski on Wolf Lake, and I love how the idea of farming catfish in huge square ponds amuses him. It doesn't seem odd to me in the least, but I guess I can see where it would seem rather alien.


I've never tried this recipe, but damn, it sounds good.

Bobby's Stuffed Rolled Catfish

4 catfish fillets
Fresh rosemary
Fresh garlic
One yellow bell pepper
One fresh jalapeno (remember: seeds equal spicy)
Small carton fresh mushrooms
1 8-ounce package lump crabmeat
8 shrimp (optional)
3-4 Tablespoons lime juice
8 ounces cream cheese
8 strips thin bacon
White wine for baking

1. Preheat oven to 300 degrees.
2. Chop together the rosemary, garlic, bell pepper, jalapeno, mushrooms, crabmeat, and shrimp.
3. Sprinkle with lime juice and set aside.
4. With the pretty, white meat side up, cover filets with about cream cheese to taste (about 1/8-1/4 inch).
5. Spoon chopped mixture on top of cream cheese.
6. Roll up.
7. Tie together with thin bacon.
8. Put about 1/2 inch white wine in the bottom of a Pyrex or similar non-reactive (glass, not metal) dish.
9. Add catfish and bake for 15-20 minutes.
10. The turn to broil to brown the bacon.
11. Serve on top of angelhair pasta and top with hollandaise.
    
    Photos courtesy of NuWireInvestor and Wikimedia.

Rosemary Fried Chicken

Probably one of my favorite things about cooking is the freedom. I'll tell you a secret: when I'm puttering around on my own, without a cookbook or recipe anywhere in sight, I tend to cook by smell; I'll sniff what I'm making and sniff what I'm thinking about adding to it and if they smell good together, I'll dump it in.

Last night's chicken dinner had moments of the Swedish Chef: just dump it in and here we go! Bork! Bork! Bork! I opened up the dried herb cabinet and went a little crazy. And you know what? Dried rosemary is damn good on fried chicken.

Unless I'm doing a beer batter, I never measure anything when I'm frying. But for simplicity's sake, here's basically what I do:

3-4 chicken breasts. If they're very large (as these were), pop the joint where cartlidget meets bone on the backside and cut them in half with a sharp knife. If you do this, warn diners for small rib bones.
1-2 quarts vegetable oil (after frying I filter it, pour it back into the bottle, and refrigerate until next time I want to fry something)
1-2 cups buttermilk
1/2 cup Louisiana hot sauce or another similar sauce. I use Louisiana because 1. it's inexpensive and 2. that's what Cain's restaurant uses. It doesn't make the chicken spicy - just adds some flavor.
4 large eggs
1 cup flour
2 teaspoons - 1 Tablespoon salt (I use kosher for more crunch.)
2 teaspoons - 1 Tablespoon black pepper
2 Tablespoons dried rosemary
Any other dried spice you might like. Cumin, coriander, paprika, Tony's, garlic powder, basil, celery flakes, onion powder. Just sniff it first and see if you're in the mood for that.

• The night before, soak chicken in buttermilk and enough hot sauce to make the mixture slightly pink. This makes the chicken juicy post-frying.
• Preheat oil to 335 degrees.
• Combine eggs and enough hot sauce to make mixture orange. Beat eggs and hot sauce well with a fork.
• In a separate bowl, combine flour, herbs, and spices with clean fingers.
• When oil is hot enough, roll a piece of chicken in the egg mixture, then dip in the flour mixture. For extra-crispy, dip back in the egg mixture and then back in the flour mixture.
• Slowly lower into hot oil.
• I usually fry for about 9-12 minutes, depending on the size of the chicken meat. The best way to determine doneness is to cut into the biggest piece you fry in a batch: if all the meat is white and juices are running clear, you're done.

A chicken is like a man. The faster you cook it, the tougher it is. Let him simmer, and he's tender and juicy putty in your hands.

Crock Pot English Roast

Mike passed his oral boards last Tuesday! In celebration, I decided to thaw out some thick, juicy steaks to grill. Due to unfortunate labeling, I accidentally thawed out a thick, juicy English roast instead. Oops.

So the challenge here was to come up with a dish with the same flavors as a thick, juicy steak but in the form of a roast. Our good friend Chris gave us the best crock pot in the world for our wedding. But I forget that "crock pot," is no longer PC - now all the fancy-pants epicurial stores are calling them "slow cookers."

In my generation, the phrase "crock pot" invokes images of that avacado green cylinder with the brown porcelain interior. Do you remember it? I know of a newlywed husband who couldn't find the crock pot because it wasn't green.

But I digress. I usually do a crock pot red meat with a cream sauce, but it's summer, and cream just seemed too heavy. And it's definitely not something you would find on the grill. So I came up with this:

3-4 pound English roast, well marbled
Large onion
1 cup red wine vinegar
1 cup olive oil
1 cup red wine
3-4 cloves garlic
Salt & pepper

Meat tends to cook down, so it's important to cook it in liquids that are full of flavor.
- Peel onion and slice in 1 inch thickness. Line bottom of crock pot with onion.
- Salt and pepper the meat and place on top of the onion.
- Combine vinegar, oil, wine, and garlic and pour on top of meat. The liquid should come up to the bottom of the meat. You can add more liquid or water.
- Set for 8 hours on low (most tender meat) or 6 hours on high and try not to dig in too early!
I know you're what you're thinking. SHE DIDN'T SEAR THE MEAT!!! IS SHE CRAZY?!? Nope. I very rarely sear the meat. For three reasons:
1. Alton Brown did a whole show on it. He scientifically weighed and measured the juiciness of an English roast before and after roasting and compared those that were seared and not seared. Guess which one was juicier? The non-seared one! Think of it like really sunburning your skin. It's just unnecessary damage.
2. It dirties up a pan, two forks, a spatula, the counter, and quite possibly the floor if you lose a firm grip on the meat. If you DO decide to sear, don't stick a fork in it: more unnecessary damage.
3. I'm lazy.

Photo courtesy of the Cook's Thesaurus.

KFC Challenge

Have you seen the dinky commercial on TV with a harried mother and 8-10 badly-behaved children tearing up the grocery store with the voiceover patronistically saying something along the lines of, "There's no way you can make great fried chicken for less money than you could buy it at Kentucky Fried Chicken?"

WRONG.

Hit a sale at the Kroger, and you can make it for a helluva lot less. I found boneless, skinless, chicken tenders for $1.97 per pound, and the rest just came from the pantry. Really, all you need to fry anything is meat or vegetable, oil (that I filter, refrigerate, and re-use), eggs, flour, salt, and pepper. The rest is just gravy (pardon the artery-clogging pun). A fry-daddy given to you by your good friend Jessica S. helps a lot too.

For lunch today, we had home-grown fried green tomatoes, Coconut and Japanese bread crumb-crusted chicken fingers, fried pickles, and fried jalapenos. No, we didn't want fries with that. I added the coconut and bread crumbs to the flour, salt, and pepper mixture and dredged the raw chicken in it after dipping in in egg. I should have dipped the tomatoes in corn meal to give them a better crunch. No, it wasn't great for our bodies. But it tasted great, it was inexpensive, AND we knew exactly what went into that oil. That's a lot more than you can say for any local KFC.

Frying is easy: just don't do it naked.