Party planning seems to fall under the category of "other duties as assigned" when one becomes department chair. This isn't necessarily a bad thing since food, laughter, and tequila are generally high on my list of the best things in life. It's just that in the heat of the moment that someone utters the word "party," I always interject, "We can have it at my house!"
So I have spent the last several days looking at decorations for our end of the year fiesta. I started with a stop by Party City last weekend while I was out clothes shopping. Unfortunately, since Cinco de Mayo is fast approaching the pickings were slim. Next, I turned to Oriental Trading Company online where I found a myriad of decorations at fairly steep prices and exorbitant shipping rates. So I let my fingers do the typing to look at Party City online, which had generally better decor at lower prices. "Ha!" I thought, "I've won!" At least until I saw their shipping costs mirrored the previous website. In addition, Oriental Trading Company has one lonely little item Party City doesn't carry. It sells for $7.99 plus another seven bucks for shipping. That's right - double since shipping is based on how much money you spend.
Happily, as I pondered the dilemma after school today, Jeff remembered a Dollar Tree had opened nearby. Even more happily there were still fiesta decorations left. (Not only do these sell out in late April/early May, but graduation seems to be completely luau based these days, so island-themed goods take over stores like kudzu.) Much to my surprise I found a myriad of themed decor items ranging from curly ceiling drops to serving platters, from chili pepper printed napkins to straw sombreros. Hooray! At least for a few minutes until I contemplated that single item I still wanted from OTC. (I know. You'd think I could be happy that I bought so much stuff for half the price I expected to pay. What can I say? I want everything - especially if I can't have it.)
So...after loading my brightly colored booty into the trunk, I asked Jeff to stop at a different Party City for one last try. Reluctantly, he agreed. ("You have all this other stuff. Why do you still want that?" Apparently the fiesta spirit has not set his soul aflame, but there's still time!) Of course, the store did not have the item I wanted (a door-sized printed scene with cutouts for faces) in the fiesta theme. Multiple were available for a luau, though. As my tired feet began complaining of the extra exertion and frustration set in, I jotted down the websites on the incorrectly-themed photo op banners. After paging through the on-line catalogs, I discovered two things. First, there are many life-sized cutouts available in free-standing cardboard forms for a pricey $75 each. Second, the only store that seems to carry the vinyl banner I'm looking for is Oriental Trading Company. Back to square one!
I suppose I should just order the silly thing and fork over the shipping charges, but the idea of paying seven bucks for shipping on an eight dollar item just irks me. At this point it is a matter of principle, and I'm working on ways around it. I'll let you know how it all ends on fiesta night.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Rebellion Abounds
As Jeff and I shopped for end-of-the-year senior awards at the local bookstore, we grew tired and hungry, and what are poor starving teachers to do when Pei Wei is only an exit away? Yep, but this blog entry isn't about the food. I've extolled the virtues of the pungent spiciness of orange peel tofu with vegetables several times already. And it goes without saying that the guys deeply enjoyed their helpings of honey seared chicken. Tonight's adventure was not in the food, but in the waiting.
Upon placing our order we were given a paging device that closely resembled a television remote control sans buttons. We promptly took said device and made our way to A.J.'s Fine Foods, which is several window fronts down the strip mall from Pei Wei. (Just as an aside, A.J.'s is an adventure unto itself. The gourmet grocery has interesting imported foods on every aisle, is decked with gorgeous fresh flowers across the front, and features the most wonderful fancy individual desserts I've seen beyond the walls of a French pastry shop in Vegas. Today's mission was simply to find something interesting to sip while we awaited our Asian dinner to go.) Just as we arrived at the patio section in front of the store, sporting its decorative wrought iron furniture and bistro deli menu, the device in my hand began to beep. "Wow!" I exclaimed to Jeff as we turned on our heels to head back to the restaurant. "That is the fastest we've ever gotten an order at Pei Wei." After about 10 steps, the beeping stopped. "Oh..." Jeff dejectedly commented, "I guess A.J.'s is out of range. Why don't you wait here and I'll get us something to drink."
Of course, I was having none of that since A.J.'s has every interesting flavor of soda pop, tea, and iced coffee known to man. "Surely it'll just beep a few times and quit," I said walking into the store with Jeff. Oh, how wrong I was! Not only did the beeping continue, it became louder and more frequent. (Presumably this is a theft deterrent on the device, though I would think anyone would gladly trade the plastic rectangle for a sack of freshly prepared and previously paid for food.) The increased frequency, along with stares from other customers in A.J.'s who probably thought I was carrying a bomb, spurred me to walk a little faster. About halfway to the back of the store - in the middle of the imported wine - a voice boomed from the device saying, "YOU ARE OUT OF RANGE! YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO RECEIVE YOUR SIGNAL! YOU ARE OUT OF RANGE!"
Of course, being the genteel Southern belle that I am, I immediately answered back. (Yes, in the middle of the store while everyone was watching.) Jeff has always maintained that I could talk to anyone who would listen, but apparently inanimate objects are also fair game. Just as the voice yelled at me and I responded, an A.J.'s employee was walking my direction (probably sent to determine if I was a safety hazard). When I said to the black box in my hand, "I know - I hear you - just shut up!" the look on his face was priceless. He stopped short in his stride, stared at me in horror (I'm sure the rich clientele who frequent the place would never make such a scene next to the carefully constructed display of French Bordeaux), and opened his mouth as if he wished to speak but no words came out. (In retrospect, he looked sort of like a fish gasping for air.)
At this point my Southern instincts again took over and I just smiled my sweetest smile, blinked my eyes innocently in his direction, and kept walking to the drink cooler where I quickly made a selection (all-natural white tea with honey dew extract), handed it to Jeff - who was snickering at the whole exchange - and sacheted out of the store. By the time I hit the sidewalk, the device again shouted at me and didn't stop until I was halfway back to Pei Wei, where I found a sunny bench by the take-out door to meekly wait for my drink and food.
The whole event was topped off by a comment from a passing three year old. The boy was trailing his mother and fussing with his jacket, which she had just insisted he wear. (It was rather blustery today.) As he scuffed along in her wake his eyes turned to me on the bench. He stopped, looked me up and down, and pointed in my direction as he announced, "SHE isn't wearing a jacket!" His mother, of course, grabbed his outstretched arm and trundled him quickly along, but I felt completely chastised. Not only had I made the grievous error of removing a paging device from Pei Wei's immediate vicinity, but I had the audacity to not wear a jacket on a windy day. I guess rebel should be my middle name.
Upon placing our order we were given a paging device that closely resembled a television remote control sans buttons. We promptly took said device and made our way to A.J.'s Fine Foods, which is several window fronts down the strip mall from Pei Wei. (Just as an aside, A.J.'s is an adventure unto itself. The gourmet grocery has interesting imported foods on every aisle, is decked with gorgeous fresh flowers across the front, and features the most wonderful fancy individual desserts I've seen beyond the walls of a French pastry shop in Vegas. Today's mission was simply to find something interesting to sip while we awaited our Asian dinner to go.) Just as we arrived at the patio section in front of the store, sporting its decorative wrought iron furniture and bistro deli menu, the device in my hand began to beep. "Wow!" I exclaimed to Jeff as we turned on our heels to head back to the restaurant. "That is the fastest we've ever gotten an order at Pei Wei." After about 10 steps, the beeping stopped. "Oh..." Jeff dejectedly commented, "I guess A.J.'s is out of range. Why don't you wait here and I'll get us something to drink."
Of course, I was having none of that since A.J.'s has every interesting flavor of soda pop, tea, and iced coffee known to man. "Surely it'll just beep a few times and quit," I said walking into the store with Jeff. Oh, how wrong I was! Not only did the beeping continue, it became louder and more frequent. (Presumably this is a theft deterrent on the device, though I would think anyone would gladly trade the plastic rectangle for a sack of freshly prepared and previously paid for food.) The increased frequency, along with stares from other customers in A.J.'s who probably thought I was carrying a bomb, spurred me to walk a little faster. About halfway to the back of the store - in the middle of the imported wine - a voice boomed from the device saying, "YOU ARE OUT OF RANGE! YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO RECEIVE YOUR SIGNAL! YOU ARE OUT OF RANGE!"
Of course, being the genteel Southern belle that I am, I immediately answered back. (Yes, in the middle of the store while everyone was watching.) Jeff has always maintained that I could talk to anyone who would listen, but apparently inanimate objects are also fair game. Just as the voice yelled at me and I responded, an A.J.'s employee was walking my direction (probably sent to determine if I was a safety hazard). When I said to the black box in my hand, "I know - I hear you - just shut up!" the look on his face was priceless. He stopped short in his stride, stared at me in horror (I'm sure the rich clientele who frequent the place would never make such a scene next to the carefully constructed display of French Bordeaux), and opened his mouth as if he wished to speak but no words came out. (In retrospect, he looked sort of like a fish gasping for air.)
At this point my Southern instincts again took over and I just smiled my sweetest smile, blinked my eyes innocently in his direction, and kept walking to the drink cooler where I quickly made a selection (all-natural white tea with honey dew extract), handed it to Jeff - who was snickering at the whole exchange - and sacheted out of the store. By the time I hit the sidewalk, the device again shouted at me and didn't stop until I was halfway back to Pei Wei, where I found a sunny bench by the take-out door to meekly wait for my drink and food.
The whole event was topped off by a comment from a passing three year old. The boy was trailing his mother and fussing with his jacket, which she had just insisted he wear. (It was rather blustery today.) As he scuffed along in her wake his eyes turned to me on the bench. He stopped, looked me up and down, and pointed in my direction as he announced, "SHE isn't wearing a jacket!" His mother, of course, grabbed his outstretched arm and trundled him quickly along, but I felt completely chastised. Not only had I made the grievous error of removing a paging device from Pei Wei's immediate vicinity, but I had the audacity to not wear a jacket on a windy day. I guess rebel should be my middle name.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Teriyaki at Home
The glisteningly dark, salty-sweet richness of teriyaki chicken makes it a favorite at Chinese buffets and here at home. Tonight's dinner took a little forethought, but not much time to fix.
Day before yesterday I cut up boneless, skinless chicken breast to soak in sauce. Bite-sized pieces work best for stir frying, and kitchen shears make quick work of this job even when the chicken is somewhat frozen. The sauce, too, takes little effort with a big payoff. Many ready-made teriyaki sauces are good, but homemade is even better. I never measure the ingredients, just add things until the thickness and taste are appealing. My combination includes soy sauce, worcestershire sauce, honey, orange juice, black pepper, minced garlic and ginger, sesame seeds, and sesame oil. To make life easy, I mix everything in a large zipper-style bag and then dump the chicken in when I'm done. After mushing it around some, the bag goes in bowl (in case it leaks) and into the fridge for at least a day, usually two.
When the appointed time arrives, begin with the rice so it has plenty of time to cook. Drain the sauce off of the chicken into a small pan over medium heat. Add some corn starch for thickening, and stir until it comes to a boil. Then reduce the heat and let it simmer - stirring occasionally -while the chicken and veggies cook. While frozen veggies can be used, I find them just too limp for stir fry. Odds and ends of vegetables are useful, but one of the small packages of fresh mixed veggies from the salad section of the grocery store works well. I like the cauliflower, broccoli, carrot, and pea pod combo, though I do cut the goodies into smaller bites before stir frying them in a large pan with a mixture of canola and sesame oils. (The fragrance of sesame oil makes it one of those luxury items that I always keep in the pantry. A little goes a long way and adds such flavor to Asian cuisine that I can't remember what it was like to make stir fry without it.)
Once the veggies have cooked a few minutes - just to crisp tender - add the chicken and continue until it is cooked through. This goes quickly since the bites are so small. Finally, add the lovely glossy sauce to the mixture and stir it around to coat everything well. Usually the heady scent of jasmine rice fills the kitchen as the lid comes off just in time to layer it in a bowl with the stir fry. Tonight we ate the steaming bowls of goodness while watching a new television version of Robinson Crusoe. Good food, a good story, a comfy couch, and soft pajamas - who could ask for more?
Day before yesterday I cut up boneless, skinless chicken breast to soak in sauce. Bite-sized pieces work best for stir frying, and kitchen shears make quick work of this job even when the chicken is somewhat frozen. The sauce, too, takes little effort with a big payoff. Many ready-made teriyaki sauces are good, but homemade is even better. I never measure the ingredients, just add things until the thickness and taste are appealing. My combination includes soy sauce, worcestershire sauce, honey, orange juice, black pepper, minced garlic and ginger, sesame seeds, and sesame oil. To make life easy, I mix everything in a large zipper-style bag and then dump the chicken in when I'm done. After mushing it around some, the bag goes in bowl (in case it leaks) and into the fridge for at least a day, usually two.
When the appointed time arrives, begin with the rice so it has plenty of time to cook. Drain the sauce off of the chicken into a small pan over medium heat. Add some corn starch for thickening, and stir until it comes to a boil. Then reduce the heat and let it simmer - stirring occasionally -while the chicken and veggies cook. While frozen veggies can be used, I find them just too limp for stir fry. Odds and ends of vegetables are useful, but one of the small packages of fresh mixed veggies from the salad section of the grocery store works well. I like the cauliflower, broccoli, carrot, and pea pod combo, though I do cut the goodies into smaller bites before stir frying them in a large pan with a mixture of canola and sesame oils. (The fragrance of sesame oil makes it one of those luxury items that I always keep in the pantry. A little goes a long way and adds such flavor to Asian cuisine that I can't remember what it was like to make stir fry without it.)
Once the veggies have cooked a few minutes - just to crisp tender - add the chicken and continue until it is cooked through. This goes quickly since the bites are so small. Finally, add the lovely glossy sauce to the mixture and stir it around to coat everything well. Usually the heady scent of jasmine rice fills the kitchen as the lid comes off just in time to layer it in a bowl with the stir fry. Tonight we ate the steaming bowls of goodness while watching a new television version of Robinson Crusoe. Good food, a good story, a comfy couch, and soft pajamas - who could ask for more?
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
A Union of One
I'm on strike, at least for tonight. After working late Jeff and I hung out with our son for a little while to get the low-down on his day. Afterward, we all meandered toward the kitchen to contemplate dinner. Within two minutes I found myself alone cleaning off the cabinets while the guys disappeared to different parts of the house to play. Needless to say, I didn't consider this an equitable situation at all (no matter what I said last night about dinner being my job), so I threw in the towel (literally) as I walked out of the kitchen. My next stop was Jeff's office where I announced I would not be cooking tonight. After explaining why, he agreed that I should take the evening off.
Huh...I didn't expect such a quick capitulation. I was gearing up the stubborn streak for a long haul but didn't have to dig my heels in after all. Bolstered by Jeff's words of "While I see I'm part of the cause, I fully support your strike tonight," I meandered to my computer and fired up a game. This feeling of playing a game before dinner, before blogging, before family time is novel, but not particularly interesting. Within a couple of rounds I navigated away from the game to check e-mail, catch up on Facebook, and compose this entry.
While I don't plan to give in on dinner tonight,(After all, I've already eaten a grilled cheese with provolone, mayo, lettuce, and tomato on pumpernickel paired with spinach and artichoke potato chips. Yum!) I'm sure the strike won't last long. It is hard to restrain myself from fixing dinner for several reasons. First, I feel guilty when I don't cook something decent. It seems to be a mother's job to make sure her child eats well, so when the boy is left to scrounge I feel I have failed somehow. (I know he won't starve, but instinct is hard to overcome.) In addition, if I cook something for myself it seems logical to feed everyone. (Tonight I was in luck and sandwich fixings were readily available. Since we all like our sandwiches different ways, I didn't feel obligated to make more than one!) Finally, I really like to cook. This is perhaps my downfall. I can say I'm going on strike; I can even walk out of the kitchen for awhile, but within a day or so I know my feet will carry me to the fridge and my hands will open it of their own volition. My eyes, too, will turn traitor and start scanning the contents for dinner ingredients. Alas, I would never make it as a teamster!
So, tonight I'll enjoy the games and leave the guys to their own devices, (The boy has already used his food radar to locate a package of cheese ravioli.) and tomorrow ... I hear chicken teriyaki stir fry beginning to call my name.
Huh...I didn't expect such a quick capitulation. I was gearing up the stubborn streak for a long haul but didn't have to dig my heels in after all. Bolstered by Jeff's words of "While I see I'm part of the cause, I fully support your strike tonight," I meandered to my computer and fired up a game. This feeling of playing a game before dinner, before blogging, before family time is novel, but not particularly interesting. Within a couple of rounds I navigated away from the game to check e-mail, catch up on Facebook, and compose this entry.
While I don't plan to give in on dinner tonight,(After all, I've already eaten a grilled cheese with provolone, mayo, lettuce, and tomato on pumpernickel paired with spinach and artichoke potato chips. Yum!) I'm sure the strike won't last long. It is hard to restrain myself from fixing dinner for several reasons. First, I feel guilty when I don't cook something decent. It seems to be a mother's job to make sure her child eats well, so when the boy is left to scrounge I feel I have failed somehow. (I know he won't starve, but instinct is hard to overcome.) In addition, if I cook something for myself it seems logical to feed everyone. (Tonight I was in luck and sandwich fixings were readily available. Since we all like our sandwiches different ways, I didn't feel obligated to make more than one!) Finally, I really like to cook. This is perhaps my downfall. I can say I'm going on strike; I can even walk out of the kitchen for awhile, but within a day or so I know my feet will carry me to the fridge and my hands will open it of their own volition. My eyes, too, will turn traitor and start scanning the contents for dinner ingredients. Alas, I would never make it as a teamster!
So, tonight I'll enjoy the games and leave the guys to their own devices, (The boy has already used his food radar to locate a package of cheese ravioli.) and tomorrow ... I hear chicken teriyaki stir fry beginning to call my name.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Project Update
As I typed in the $8.64 I spent on lunch today it occurred to me I haven't really discussed how the Eat at Home Project is going in awhile. As you can see from the running total, we have spent $296.97 on eating out since the project began in early January. Our budget for this time period is $320.00. You may recall we decided to allow ourselves $20 a week because we knew we couldn't go cold turkey. However, this amount will only equal about a third of the money we spent on eating out last year.
I must admit, we've cheated a little along the way. For example, the school function the guys just returned from isn't counted in the total because they didn't really have a choice about eating out on a three-day trip - especially during the 14 hours they spent at Magic Mountain, where they couldn't even take a water bottle with them. The reasoning is that this expense falls outside of the parameters of the project and only happens once or twice a year. On the other hand, when Jeff and I took the choir kids on a short - one night - trip to Flagstaff, we packed food and didn't eat out at all. So, when it is feasible we take our own food, but those events that seem beyond our control are not tallied in the running count.
Looking at the count, we are currently running about $23 under budget, which is worse than last time I took stock of our project totals. Spring seems to be pushing us in terms of wanting to just pick up a burger on the way home. Third quarter (between January and mid-March) is usually tough at school because Jeff works nearly every weekend. However, fourth quarter should be a time of winding down. Unfortunately, it hasn't worked that way this year. Stress (over budget cuts, changing curriculum, and adding freshmen to our school) has taken over our lives. When we're stressed, we eat out because it is just easier to let someone else fix dinner. It is also easier to fall off the wagon when other people are around. For example, I took my normal lunch to district office this morning where I was working on changes in state standards. But when lunch time rolled around a couple of group members invited me to join them for the break, and when a Greek cafe beckons, I just can't say no (veggie gyro, stuffed grape leaves, orange tea - oh my).
I've been contemplating a solution to this slippery slope of dining out all day, but haven't arrived at any epiphanies yet. First, I considered buying more frozen foods for dinner. While I'm sure this will help, it isn't a taste-tempting thought. In general, frozen foods are fine for speeding up the dinner process, but not something I want to eat on their own. (Though, my son would probably eat pizza every night if I let him.) Next, I thought about turning the task of fixing dinner over to Jeff once or twice a week. However, I'm the one who plans dinner options and purchases groceries, so he would be stuck following my lead, which probably isn't a good idea. After all, if I'm going to don an apron and stir a pot, I want to have a little say in the matter rather than being told what to cook as if I'm hired help. (On the other hand, if I were paid well, I think hired help might be the way to go!) Finally, the idea of just leaving everyone to his own devices once a week crossed my mind because my son knows how to stir up a box of mac and cheese, make a grilled ham sandwich, or throw a pizza in the oven, as does Jeff. The trouble with this option is that everyone waits around to see who will be the first to step into the kitchen to forage. If that first person looks as if she (yep, usually me) is cooking something - no matter how humble - that's what everyone else wants for dinner. Don't get me wrong. I don't feel abused or put upon because it has traditionally been my job to keep us all fed. Jeff does plenty of chores, but cooking isn't his thing just like taking out the trash and cleaning the cat box aren't mine.
In light of the continuing tough economy I'm not ready to call it quits on the project, but as the end of the school year plays out, I'll have to remind myself frequently that anything we eat at home is probably better than fast food. I'll also have to keep looking at the bottom line and remember that every penny I don't see in the total column is one still in the bank.
I must admit, we've cheated a little along the way. For example, the school function the guys just returned from isn't counted in the total because they didn't really have a choice about eating out on a three-day trip - especially during the 14 hours they spent at Magic Mountain, where they couldn't even take a water bottle with them. The reasoning is that this expense falls outside of the parameters of the project and only happens once or twice a year. On the other hand, when Jeff and I took the choir kids on a short - one night - trip to Flagstaff, we packed food and didn't eat out at all. So, when it is feasible we take our own food, but those events that seem beyond our control are not tallied in the running count.
Looking at the count, we are currently running about $23 under budget, which is worse than last time I took stock of our project totals. Spring seems to be pushing us in terms of wanting to just pick up a burger on the way home. Third quarter (between January and mid-March) is usually tough at school because Jeff works nearly every weekend. However, fourth quarter should be a time of winding down. Unfortunately, it hasn't worked that way this year. Stress (over budget cuts, changing curriculum, and adding freshmen to our school) has taken over our lives. When we're stressed, we eat out because it is just easier to let someone else fix dinner. It is also easier to fall off the wagon when other people are around. For example, I took my normal lunch to district office this morning where I was working on changes in state standards. But when lunch time rolled around a couple of group members invited me to join them for the break, and when a Greek cafe beckons, I just can't say no (veggie gyro, stuffed grape leaves, orange tea - oh my).
I've been contemplating a solution to this slippery slope of dining out all day, but haven't arrived at any epiphanies yet. First, I considered buying more frozen foods for dinner. While I'm sure this will help, it isn't a taste-tempting thought. In general, frozen foods are fine for speeding up the dinner process, but not something I want to eat on their own. (Though, my son would probably eat pizza every night if I let him.) Next, I thought about turning the task of fixing dinner over to Jeff once or twice a week. However, I'm the one who plans dinner options and purchases groceries, so he would be stuck following my lead, which probably isn't a good idea. After all, if I'm going to don an apron and stir a pot, I want to have a little say in the matter rather than being told what to cook as if I'm hired help. (On the other hand, if I were paid well, I think hired help might be the way to go!) Finally, the idea of just leaving everyone to his own devices once a week crossed my mind because my son knows how to stir up a box of mac and cheese, make a grilled ham sandwich, or throw a pizza in the oven, as does Jeff. The trouble with this option is that everyone waits around to see who will be the first to step into the kitchen to forage. If that first person looks as if she (yep, usually me) is cooking something - no matter how humble - that's what everyone else wants for dinner. Don't get me wrong. I don't feel abused or put upon because it has traditionally been my job to keep us all fed. Jeff does plenty of chores, but cooking isn't his thing just like taking out the trash and cleaning the cat box aren't mine.
In light of the continuing tough economy I'm not ready to call it quits on the project, but as the end of the school year plays out, I'll have to remind myself frequently that anything we eat at home is probably better than fast food. I'll also have to keep looking at the bottom line and remember that every penny I don't see in the total column is one still in the bank.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Weekend Away
When the guys arrived home from a multi-day school trip I was regaled with stories of people watching, theme park rides, and (of course) food.
Lunch tales included chili cheese fries and burgers at Del Taco and hotdogs and pizza at Costco. Of course snacks at mini marts and a trip to the grocery store for Uncrustables were thrown in for good measure. Apparently only two meals were actually memorable: Friday night's trip to Medieval Knights and Saturday's visit to Moose Burger Lodge.
At Medieval Knights guests are assigned actors (dressed, of course in full armor) to root for in their mock battles while being served dinner by wenches and serfs. The menu includes roasted chicken, barbecue spare ribs, half a roasted potato, tomato bisque soup, garlic bread, and an apple turnover which Jeff described as having filling "so hot it burned your mouth and so tasteless you didn't care." This fare was coupled with hundreds of screaming teenagers, several doses of Tylenol, and no utensils (not even for the soup).
Still full from Friday's dinner, the guys opted to skip breakfast because the hotel's pickings were sad the morning before with items like cold scramble eggs, mushy sausage, limp bacon, and tureen's of a simulated oatmeal substance. Apparently the only redeeming choice was a freshly made Belgian waffle for those willing to stand in line with the plethora of junior high ankle biters who populated most of the hotel.
That missed breakfast coupled with multiple roller coasters at Magic Mountain meant the guys were ready for a big lunch on Saturday, so they opted for the Moose Burger Lodge, which was the only sit-down restaurant left open at the park. (It seems Magic Mountain is currently in bankruptcy and many of the shops, shows, and eateries were closed.) According to Jeff, the highlight of this establishment is three animatronic moose singing made up lyrics to the "Beverly Hillbillies" theme song. The boy ordered a bacon cheeseburger that needed more barbecue sauce and was accompanied by a giant pickle. Jeff had the buffet which included more roasted chicken, pulled pork, stewed apples, crusty rolls, instant mashed potatoes with canned chicken gravy, canned corn, steamed mixed vegetables, lasagna, penne pasta in tomato sauce, and golf ball sized meatballs. There was also a salad bar which Jeff skipped on the general principle that you shouldn't eat anything healthy at a theme park. To top it all off, the guys order sodas, which doesn't seem like a big deal until you find out that they were $3.50 a piece. With tax and tip this meal set them back over $40!
After all this eating out, I think they were ready for something a little more homemade, so I obliged with Swedish meatballs. I cheated a little using the "pre-fab" frozen meatballs, but since the sauce was made from scratch, it passed muster. Later, everyone had a big helping of the strawberry cobbler I made last night. All in all, I think the guys are happy to be sleeping in their own beds tonight, and happier to be eating at home.
Lunch tales included chili cheese fries and burgers at Del Taco and hotdogs and pizza at Costco. Of course snacks at mini marts and a trip to the grocery store for Uncrustables were thrown in for good measure. Apparently only two meals were actually memorable: Friday night's trip to Medieval Knights and Saturday's visit to Moose Burger Lodge.
At Medieval Knights guests are assigned actors (dressed, of course in full armor) to root for in their mock battles while being served dinner by wenches and serfs. The menu includes roasted chicken, barbecue spare ribs, half a roasted potato, tomato bisque soup, garlic bread, and an apple turnover which Jeff described as having filling "so hot it burned your mouth and so tasteless you didn't care." This fare was coupled with hundreds of screaming teenagers, several doses of Tylenol, and no utensils (not even for the soup).
Still full from Friday's dinner, the guys opted to skip breakfast because the hotel's pickings were sad the morning before with items like cold scramble eggs, mushy sausage, limp bacon, and tureen's of a simulated oatmeal substance. Apparently the only redeeming choice was a freshly made Belgian waffle for those willing to stand in line with the plethora of junior high ankle biters who populated most of the hotel.
That missed breakfast coupled with multiple roller coasters at Magic Mountain meant the guys were ready for a big lunch on Saturday, so they opted for the Moose Burger Lodge, which was the only sit-down restaurant left open at the park. (It seems Magic Mountain is currently in bankruptcy and many of the shops, shows, and eateries were closed.) According to Jeff, the highlight of this establishment is three animatronic moose singing made up lyrics to the "Beverly Hillbillies" theme song. The boy ordered a bacon cheeseburger that needed more barbecue sauce and was accompanied by a giant pickle. Jeff had the buffet which included more roasted chicken, pulled pork, stewed apples, crusty rolls, instant mashed potatoes with canned chicken gravy, canned corn, steamed mixed vegetables, lasagna, penne pasta in tomato sauce, and golf ball sized meatballs. There was also a salad bar which Jeff skipped on the general principle that you shouldn't eat anything healthy at a theme park. To top it all off, the guys order sodas, which doesn't seem like a big deal until you find out that they were $3.50 a piece. With tax and tip this meal set them back over $40!
After all this eating out, I think they were ready for something a little more homemade, so I obliged with Swedish meatballs. I cheated a little using the "pre-fab" frozen meatballs, but since the sauce was made from scratch, it passed muster. Later, everyone had a big helping of the strawberry cobbler I made last night. All in all, I think the guys are happy to be sleeping in their own beds tonight, and happier to be eating at home.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Lazy Day Cobbler
Who can resist strawberries at 88 cents for a one-pound carton? Certainly not I - who bought four. Once the fresh berries arrive home, of course, they must be dealt with straight away lest they turn mushy. Next comes the dilemma of what to do with four pounds of cut up strawberries glistening with sugar. My first thought was to freeze half of them, but then a better idea popped into my brain - lazy day cobbler.
This recipe always transports me back to childhood because my mother made this on a regular basis. It is also one of my go-to recipes when I remember at 7 p.m. that I have to take something to work in 12 short hours. Lazy day cobbler is warm and yummy as homemade dessert should be, but versatile enough to accommodate whatever you have in the pantry, fridge, or freezer. For me, today, that means strawberries.
Here's my mom's recipe for an 8 inch square cobbler. Double it if you use a larger pan.
1 stick butter or margarine
1 cup sugar
1 cup self-rising flour (Regular flour is fine, but add 1 1/2 teaspoons of baking powder and 1/4 teaspoon of salt.)
3/4 cup of milk
1 large can of fruit (If you use unsweetened fruit, sprinkle about 1/2 cup a sugar on at the end of the recipe. If you have sweetened fruit, skip the sugar. You can also use fresh or frozen fruit. It's all good!)
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Put the butter in the pan and place it in the oven to melt. Beat together the sugar, flour, and milk. (I don't bother getting out the electric mixer for this. Less than a minute with a whisk makes the batter smooth.) Pour the batter over the butter evenly, but do not stir. Spoon the fruit evenly across the pan on top of the batter. (If you used unsweetened fruit, now is the time to sprinkle on some sugar.) Bake for 45 minutes. The batter will rise to the top.
This is really great hot out of the oven with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. It is just as good after it has cooled and the topping is slightly crusty. It's also a good way to use some left over fruit. Since nobody ever wants to eat the last piece of anything, you can always cut up some compatible fruits and make a cobbler. The best combo I've made is apple, peach, blueberry with some cinnamon thrown in for good measure.
Mmm...I can smell the bubbly goodness now, and there goes my timer.
This recipe always transports me back to childhood because my mother made this on a regular basis. It is also one of my go-to recipes when I remember at 7 p.m. that I have to take something to work in 12 short hours. Lazy day cobbler is warm and yummy as homemade dessert should be, but versatile enough to accommodate whatever you have in the pantry, fridge, or freezer. For me, today, that means strawberries.
Here's my mom's recipe for an 8 inch square cobbler. Double it if you use a larger pan.
1 stick butter or margarine
1 cup sugar
1 cup self-rising flour (Regular flour is fine, but add 1 1/2 teaspoons of baking powder and 1/4 teaspoon of salt.)
3/4 cup of milk
1 large can of fruit (If you use unsweetened fruit, sprinkle about 1/2 cup a sugar on at the end of the recipe. If you have sweetened fruit, skip the sugar. You can also use fresh or frozen fruit. It's all good!)
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Put the butter in the pan and place it in the oven to melt. Beat together the sugar, flour, and milk. (I don't bother getting out the electric mixer for this. Less than a minute with a whisk makes the batter smooth.) Pour the batter over the butter evenly, but do not stir. Spoon the fruit evenly across the pan on top of the batter. (If you used unsweetened fruit, now is the time to sprinkle on some sugar.) Bake for 45 minutes. The batter will rise to the top.
This is really great hot out of the oven with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. It is just as good after it has cooled and the topping is slightly crusty. It's also a good way to use some left over fruit. Since nobody ever wants to eat the last piece of anything, you can always cut up some compatible fruits and make a cobbler. The best combo I've made is apple, peach, blueberry with some cinnamon thrown in for good measure.
Mmm...I can smell the bubbly goodness now, and there goes my timer.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Dinner in a Flash
When life is hectic, as it often is at our house, simplicity in cooking is the order of the day. After working late and getting groceries, I was ready for dinner pronto but wanted something homemade and tasty rather than frozen and blah.
The meal started with a bunch of fresh asparagus I picked up at the store. After removing the woody parts of the stem, they were dumped into the steamer for quick cooking. Next, in a small saucepan I stirred together about a tablespoon each of brown sugar, soy sauce, and balsamic vinegar, added a quarter cup of chianti - because that's what I opened for dinner - and about half a teaspoon of corn starch. (Vegetable or chicken stock would work just as well in place of the wine.) Then, this little concoction went on a medium burner. While that heated, a lovely ahi tuna steak seasoned with salt and pepper went under the broiler for about three minutes on each side making it light pink and juicy in the middle. While the tuna cooks, stir the sauce now and then and let it come to a boil. Take it off the heat after a minute or so of boiling and spoon it over the tuna just plucked from under the broiler. Plate the steamed asparagus and hit that with a little salt and fresh lemon juice. Voila! A nice dinner in about 10 minutes flat.
Of course a quick dinner like this leaves plenty of time for relaxing afterwards since there aren't tons of dishes to wash. Luckily, there is left over lemon rice pudding in the fridge for dessert, so now that I've cooked, cleaned up, and shared my evening meal, it's time for dessert and some HGTV.
The meal started with a bunch of fresh asparagus I picked up at the store. After removing the woody parts of the stem, they were dumped into the steamer for quick cooking. Next, in a small saucepan I stirred together about a tablespoon each of brown sugar, soy sauce, and balsamic vinegar, added a quarter cup of chianti - because that's what I opened for dinner - and about half a teaspoon of corn starch. (Vegetable or chicken stock would work just as well in place of the wine.) Then, this little concoction went on a medium burner. While that heated, a lovely ahi tuna steak seasoned with salt and pepper went under the broiler for about three minutes on each side making it light pink and juicy in the middle. While the tuna cooks, stir the sauce now and then and let it come to a boil. Take it off the heat after a minute or so of boiling and spoon it over the tuna just plucked from under the broiler. Plate the steamed asparagus and hit that with a little salt and fresh lemon juice. Voila! A nice dinner in about 10 minutes flat.
Of course a quick dinner like this leaves plenty of time for relaxing afterwards since there aren't tons of dishes to wash. Luckily, there is left over lemon rice pudding in the fridge for dessert, so now that I've cooked, cleaned up, and shared my evening meal, it's time for dessert and some HGTV.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
When Life Gives You Lemons
I love lemons, especially the ones from my in-laws' tree because they are large and juicy and sweet. Since I was on my own for dinner tonight, I knew just what to do.
When lemons are added food seems to have a light, summery feel. Tonight's main course – tortellini fruit salad with lemon-ginger dressing – is a perfect example of this. Use the small frozen package of tortellini since it is just as tasty as and less expensive than the fresh-packed deli version. While the pasta cooks - which only takes two or three minutes - make the dressing by stirring together a small container of lemon yogurt and some ginger to taste. I use nearly a teaspoon because I like the bite of the ginger in contrast to the cool sweetness of the lemon flavor. When the tortellini is done, drain it and rinse it under cold water to chill it a little. (Of course, if you have left over in the fridge, that's all the better to start with!) Next, gently stir the tortellini, about two cups of chunked mixed fruit, and the lemon dressing together. Leftover fresh fruit - like cantaloupe and peaches - works well, but so does frozen fruit. I used mixed berry tonight which I set out to thaw when I got home. This fruity salad can be eaten as is (tomorrow's lunch) or served on a bed of greens (tonight's dinner). Anything leafy and crunchy will do, but mixed field greens are my absolute favorite here. If you have some chopped pecans or walnuts, throw those on top for added crunch (and antioxidants). This is a great warm weather lunch or late evening supper.
Dessert was a little more complicated - lemon rice pudding with a brulee topping. This recipe came from the Taste of Home yearbook, but you can make the same thing without the book by following a couple of easy substitutions. Use your favorite rice pudding recipe but cook the rice in lemonade instead of water. I used the powdered drink mix kind, but frozen would work just as well. (I suspect this is like wine in that you shouldn’t cook with something you wouldn’t drink.) I also squeezed the juice of one lemon into the pan. When the rice is finished cooking, stir in the zest of that lemon and recover the pot for a few minutes to steam the peel a little. Then, cool the rice and continue as you would with any rice pudding recipe. The instructions I followed substituted dried cranberries for raisins, which went well with the lemony goodness. Finally, divide the pudding into ramekins and sprinkle with a mixture of equal parts white and brown sugar. Run these under the broiler for several minutes until the sugar is caramel colored and bubbly, and serve warm. You will not be disappointed.
This dessert was permeated with lemon flavor. It was sweet and tasty, even though mine was a little grainy because I had some trouble tempering the eggs tonight. (Darn it!) I can only imagine how much more wonderful it would be if it were smooth and creamy as well. So, when life gives you lemons remember there is so much more you can make than lemonade.
When lemons are added food seems to have a light, summery feel. Tonight's main course – tortellini fruit salad with lemon-ginger dressing – is a perfect example of this. Use the small frozen package of tortellini since it is just as tasty as and less expensive than the fresh-packed deli version. While the pasta cooks - which only takes two or three minutes - make the dressing by stirring together a small container of lemon yogurt and some ginger to taste. I use nearly a teaspoon because I like the bite of the ginger in contrast to the cool sweetness of the lemon flavor. When the tortellini is done, drain it and rinse it under cold water to chill it a little. (Of course, if you have left over in the fridge, that's all the better to start with!) Next, gently stir the tortellini, about two cups of chunked mixed fruit, and the lemon dressing together. Leftover fresh fruit - like cantaloupe and peaches - works well, but so does frozen fruit. I used mixed berry tonight which I set out to thaw when I got home. This fruity salad can be eaten as is (tomorrow's lunch) or served on a bed of greens (tonight's dinner). Anything leafy and crunchy will do, but mixed field greens are my absolute favorite here. If you have some chopped pecans or walnuts, throw those on top for added crunch (and antioxidants). This is a great warm weather lunch or late evening supper.
Dessert was a little more complicated - lemon rice pudding with a brulee topping. This recipe came from the Taste of Home yearbook, but you can make the same thing without the book by following a couple of easy substitutions. Use your favorite rice pudding recipe but cook the rice in lemonade instead of water. I used the powdered drink mix kind, but frozen would work just as well. (I suspect this is like wine in that you shouldn’t cook with something you wouldn’t drink.) I also squeezed the juice of one lemon into the pan. When the rice is finished cooking, stir in the zest of that lemon and recover the pot for a few minutes to steam the peel a little. Then, cool the rice and continue as you would with any rice pudding recipe. The instructions I followed substituted dried cranberries for raisins, which went well with the lemony goodness. Finally, divide the pudding into ramekins and sprinkle with a mixture of equal parts white and brown sugar. Run these under the broiler for several minutes until the sugar is caramel colored and bubbly, and serve warm. You will not be disappointed.
This dessert was permeated with lemon flavor. It was sweet and tasty, even though mine was a little grainy because I had some trouble tempering the eggs tonight. (Darn it!) I can only imagine how much more wonderful it would be if it were smooth and creamy as well. So, when life gives you lemons remember there is so much more you can make than lemonade.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
San Tan Flats
If western atmosphere trips your trigger, a visit to San Tan Flats in Queen Creek, AZ, is definitely in order. I've been hearing about this place for several years, but didn't head to the outskirts of town to check it out until tonight.
Walking in the "front" is really walking in the back of the restaurant, past wagon wheels set into low adobe walls and through the authentic saloon doors. The "back" of the restaurant, which is really the front, sports a large patio area for outdoor dining, a fire pit for marshmallow roasting, a band stand for live entertainment, and an open area for dancing. Inside, the restaurant is a cross between Miss Kitty's place from Gunsmoke and a modern honky tonk with beer names plastered on the walls in neon lights. In addition to the signs, the walls are covered with cowboy paraphernalia like chaps, rifles, harnesses, spurs, jingle bells, holsters, and a myriad of paintings ranging from desert landscapes to Wild Bill Cody and John Wayne. To cap off the joint, the ceiling has straw stuck to it as if it were spread on the floor and turned upside down.
The menu isn't extensive, but there is enough variety to please everyone in the posse. A friend and frequent visitor to the Flats recommended the flat iron steak, which Jeff ordered up medium with sautéed mushrooms on top. The meat was tender and juicy with a potato choice, creamed corn, and dinner roll. While Jeff chose the steak fries - an average side dish - the roll and creamed corn were to die for. The bread was a cross between a yeast roll and a crusty French baguette. It was golden brown and shiny on the outside, tender and warm on the inside. But the creamed corn was the best of everything on Jeff's plate. (Well, he thought the steak was best, but the corn was my favorite. Funny, I haven't even gotten to my plate yet!) The corn tasted like fresh sweet corn on the cob cooked in real cream with some sugar and butter added for good measure. It was served in an individual ramekin warm from the oven with a toasty top crust. (YUM!) The boy and I fought over who got to eat it since Jeff isn't crazy about creamed anything.
I ordered a mesquite chicken sandwich which featured a juicy, butterflied, grilled breast on a ciabatta roll. The chicken was topped with a spicy ranch dressing, red onion slice, thick slabs of tomato, and curly lettuce. In addition, the ciabatta bread was toasted and crispy. Instead of fries I opted for potato cakes, and what a good choice that was! These babies were made from gloriously smooth mashed potatoes doctored with chopped green onion, breaded, and deep fried to hot crusty goodness. I tasted them as soon the plate hit the table and polished off one before Jeff could say, "Let me have a bite!" The second one I saved until after the sandwich so I had something gorgeous and yummy to look forward to at the end of the meal. (You'd think it was dessert, right? Sometimes, I think potatoes are better than cake!)
Our son had the same potato cakes - which he, too, devoured before playing tug-of-war with me over the corn - and a bacon cheeseburger with house barbecue sauce. The burger was large and topped with all the fixings, so the boy was happy.
Actually, we all left satisfied this evening, which is something that doesn't happen at many restaurants. No disappointments. No poor service. No dull food. It was a nice way to celebrate Jeff's post-dental work ability to chew once again and our son's 95 percent on an English class research project. All in all - a tasty end to a good day.
Walking in the "front" is really walking in the back of the restaurant, past wagon wheels set into low adobe walls and through the authentic saloon doors. The "back" of the restaurant, which is really the front, sports a large patio area for outdoor dining, a fire pit for marshmallow roasting, a band stand for live entertainment, and an open area for dancing. Inside, the restaurant is a cross between Miss Kitty's place from Gunsmoke and a modern honky tonk with beer names plastered on the walls in neon lights. In addition to the signs, the walls are covered with cowboy paraphernalia like chaps, rifles, harnesses, spurs, jingle bells, holsters, and a myriad of paintings ranging from desert landscapes to Wild Bill Cody and John Wayne. To cap off the joint, the ceiling has straw stuck to it as if it were spread on the floor and turned upside down.
The menu isn't extensive, but there is enough variety to please everyone in the posse. A friend and frequent visitor to the Flats recommended the flat iron steak, which Jeff ordered up medium with sautéed mushrooms on top. The meat was tender and juicy with a potato choice, creamed corn, and dinner roll. While Jeff chose the steak fries - an average side dish - the roll and creamed corn were to die for. The bread was a cross between a yeast roll and a crusty French baguette. It was golden brown and shiny on the outside, tender and warm on the inside. But the creamed corn was the best of everything on Jeff's plate. (Well, he thought the steak was best, but the corn was my favorite. Funny, I haven't even gotten to my plate yet!) The corn tasted like fresh sweet corn on the cob cooked in real cream with some sugar and butter added for good measure. It was served in an individual ramekin warm from the oven with a toasty top crust. (YUM!) The boy and I fought over who got to eat it since Jeff isn't crazy about creamed anything.
I ordered a mesquite chicken sandwich which featured a juicy, butterflied, grilled breast on a ciabatta roll. The chicken was topped with a spicy ranch dressing, red onion slice, thick slabs of tomato, and curly lettuce. In addition, the ciabatta bread was toasted and crispy. Instead of fries I opted for potato cakes, and what a good choice that was! These babies were made from gloriously smooth mashed potatoes doctored with chopped green onion, breaded, and deep fried to hot crusty goodness. I tasted them as soon the plate hit the table and polished off one before Jeff could say, "Let me have a bite!" The second one I saved until after the sandwich so I had something gorgeous and yummy to look forward to at the end of the meal. (You'd think it was dessert, right? Sometimes, I think potatoes are better than cake!)
Our son had the same potato cakes - which he, too, devoured before playing tug-of-war with me over the corn - and a bacon cheeseburger with house barbecue sauce. The burger was large and topped with all the fixings, so the boy was happy.
Actually, we all left satisfied this evening, which is something that doesn't happen at many restaurants. No disappointments. No poor service. No dull food. It was a nice way to celebrate Jeff's post-dental work ability to chew once again and our son's 95 percent on an English class research project. All in all - a tasty end to a good day.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Food for Thought
Why do we use food and cooking analogies to describe people and things in negative, but colorful ways? The images are just too delicious for words! (Thanks to Jeff for his help with tonight's entry.)
1. Cottage cheese thighs
The opera singer's cottage cheese thighs, which shook almost as much as her vibrato, made the tenor yearn for a can of peaches.
2. Sausage
The burgermeister was so sad when his sausage fingers would not fit into a Chinese finger puzzle that he ate a dozen brats and felt even wurst.
3. Pizza face
The pizza faced teenager was shunned by the cheerleader despite his ability to be saucy.
4. Being a couch potato
Being a couch potato is well and good until your eyes sprout.
5. Being a bad apple or a smart cookie
Why would anyone choose to be a bad apple when he could just as easily be a smart cookie?
6. Being chicken
Being chicken is not a bad thing. After all there are 1,001 ways to prepare yourself for dinner with the boss.
7. Going bananas
When I go bananas I find it best to add three scoops of ice cream and multiple toppings.
8. Being cheesy
His jokes were so cheesy that no one thought they were Gouda, but everyone agrees the punch lines made them cheddar.
9. Being a bad egg
He was a bad egg - cracked when he was young, and the yolk was on him.
10. Smelling fishy
Holy mackerel, Batman! Is that a congressman I smell?
11. Steamed
He was so steamed I was ready to add butter and hollandaise sauce.
12. Hard boiled
The hard-boiled detective searched out the poacher.
13. Half baked / over done
The half-baked actor arrived over done.
14. A crock
"What a crock!" exclaimed a judge at the chili cook-off.
15. Off his nut
Everyone thought he was off his nut when he said the squirrels were plotting to storm the tree and take the acorns by force.
16. Panned
Although he played Puck the critics panned him anyway.
17. Toast / toasted
"You're toast!" the woman cried, "if you come home toasted yet again!"
18. Being a goober
Even President Carter knew his brother, Billy, was a goober.
19. Fried
The former hippie with hallucinogenics was both deep and fried.
20. Being unsavory
The unsavory character left a sour taste with everyone he met.
How many more can you add?
1. Cottage cheese thighs
The opera singer's cottage cheese thighs, which shook almost as much as her vibrato, made the tenor yearn for a can of peaches.
2. Sausage
The burgermeister was so sad when his sausage fingers would not fit into a Chinese finger puzzle that he ate a dozen brats and felt even wurst.
3. Pizza face
The pizza faced teenager was shunned by the cheerleader despite his ability to be saucy.
4. Being a couch potato
Being a couch potato is well and good until your eyes sprout.
5. Being a bad apple or a smart cookie
Why would anyone choose to be a bad apple when he could just as easily be a smart cookie?
6. Being chicken
Being chicken is not a bad thing. After all there are 1,001 ways to prepare yourself for dinner with the boss.
7. Going bananas
When I go bananas I find it best to add three scoops of ice cream and multiple toppings.
8. Being cheesy
His jokes were so cheesy that no one thought they were Gouda, but everyone agrees the punch lines made them cheddar.
9. Being a bad egg
He was a bad egg - cracked when he was young, and the yolk was on him.
10. Smelling fishy
Holy mackerel, Batman! Is that a congressman I smell?
11. Steamed
He was so steamed I was ready to add butter and hollandaise sauce.
12. Hard boiled
The hard-boiled detective searched out the poacher.
13. Half baked / over done
The half-baked actor arrived over done.
14. A crock
"What a crock!" exclaimed a judge at the chili cook-off.
15. Off his nut
Everyone thought he was off his nut when he said the squirrels were plotting to storm the tree and take the acorns by force.
16. Panned
Although he played Puck the critics panned him anyway.
17. Toast / toasted
"You're toast!" the woman cried, "if you come home toasted yet again!"
18. Being a goober
Even President Carter knew his brother, Billy, was a goober.
19. Fried
The former hippie with hallucinogenics was both deep and fried.
20. Being unsavory
The unsavory character left a sour taste with everyone he met.
How many more can you add?
Monday, April 19, 2010
Souper Supper
After Jeff's successful bout with an oral surgeon, something soft was in order for dinner - potato soup.
Of course, there are many variations on this classic, but my favorite is basically really thin mashed potatoes with extra cheese. I always make a good sized pot because the guys never leave the table without seconds and I want to be sure there is some leftover for tomorrow's lunch. So after peeling and dicing three pounds of spuds, I add just enough liquid to cover them. Tonight the liquid was chicken stock, but vegetable stock tastes good, too. If you want to dress it up a little, try some white wine mixed with the stock. (If you're going this route, I recommend Italian herbs for seasoning and some Parmesan and/or feta cheese at the end.)
After the potatoes are fork tender, drain them and reserve the liquid to put back in. Then use an electric mixer to whip the potatoes until smooth. (Of course, you can hand mash them for more texture, or take out half the chunks, whip half and return the larger pieces. Tonight I opted for extra smooth so Jeff wouldn't really have to chew.) At this point, butter is definitely in order - usually a whole stick gets whipped into the spuds. Of course a couple of big spoonfuls of sour cream are also called for here, along with your favorite seasonings. (Basic salt and lots of black pepper are always good.) Once this is all whipped up, stir the liquid back in until you have a nice, soupy consistency. If the taters are too thick after all the liquid is added, put some milk (or better yet, cream) in the mixture to thin it. Finally, put the soup back on the heat and add shredded cheese. I like sharp cheddar, but other cheeses can be tasty and different - some smoked Gouda adds a nutty flavor, while mozzarella is soft and subtle. Stir the soup over the heat until the cheese melts completely, and voila - easy potato soup. Of course, sweet potatoes yield a completely different, but yummy flavor.
The best part about making and eating soup is the comfort factor. Inhaling the peppery steam rolling off a bowl of soup can drain the stress of a long day or ease the hurt of an aching body. Soup is often reserved for cool weather and rainy days, but those don't come often in central Arizona, so we eat soup when the soul - rather than the environment - calls for it.
One of my favorite soups is minestrone. My mom and dad made a quick and yummy version for a restaurant they used to own using premade pasta sauce as the base. Add some water, frozen veggies, pasta, seasonings, and walk away while it simmers. This soup takes very little time and effort to put together, but the payoff is big! In addition, it’s one of those dishes that fills the house with lingering aromas that beckon everyone to the kitchen for a taste.
Of course, in the heat of summer chilled soups are comforting as well. The refreshing vegetables, the spicy tang, and the pureed texture of gazpacho create one of my favorite summer time eatables. It's also fabulous served with icy shrimp in place of cocktail sauce. (Put it in a pretty wine glass and position some shrimp around the edge for a beautiful party appetizer.) Along the same lines as gazpacho are fruit soups, which we sampled last October on a cruise to Mexico. I liked the cantaloupe-peach combo which appeared to have cream swirled through it, but Jeff was partial to the berry-based dish. These were cool, refreshing, light, and somehow a little exotic - perfect for a summer party or cookout. Since they’re fruity and colorful, they seem to be a favorite with kids as well.
Ultimately, soup is a staple food – one of those dishes that is generally easy to make, but always pleases the palette. It's like a hug in a bowl – whether it’s the freshly mown grass of summer or the damp chill of cascading autumn leaves, soup is a taste of home.
Of course, there are many variations on this classic, but my favorite is basically really thin mashed potatoes with extra cheese. I always make a good sized pot because the guys never leave the table without seconds and I want to be sure there is some leftover for tomorrow's lunch. So after peeling and dicing three pounds of spuds, I add just enough liquid to cover them. Tonight the liquid was chicken stock, but vegetable stock tastes good, too. If you want to dress it up a little, try some white wine mixed with the stock. (If you're going this route, I recommend Italian herbs for seasoning and some Parmesan and/or feta cheese at the end.)
After the potatoes are fork tender, drain them and reserve the liquid to put back in. Then use an electric mixer to whip the potatoes until smooth. (Of course, you can hand mash them for more texture, or take out half the chunks, whip half and return the larger pieces. Tonight I opted for extra smooth so Jeff wouldn't really have to chew.) At this point, butter is definitely in order - usually a whole stick gets whipped into the spuds. Of course a couple of big spoonfuls of sour cream are also called for here, along with your favorite seasonings. (Basic salt and lots of black pepper are always good.) Once this is all whipped up, stir the liquid back in until you have a nice, soupy consistency. If the taters are too thick after all the liquid is added, put some milk (or better yet, cream) in the mixture to thin it. Finally, put the soup back on the heat and add shredded cheese. I like sharp cheddar, but other cheeses can be tasty and different - some smoked Gouda adds a nutty flavor, while mozzarella is soft and subtle. Stir the soup over the heat until the cheese melts completely, and voila - easy potato soup. Of course, sweet potatoes yield a completely different, but yummy flavor.
The best part about making and eating soup is the comfort factor. Inhaling the peppery steam rolling off a bowl of soup can drain the stress of a long day or ease the hurt of an aching body. Soup is often reserved for cool weather and rainy days, but those don't come often in central Arizona, so we eat soup when the soul - rather than the environment - calls for it.
One of my favorite soups is minestrone. My mom and dad made a quick and yummy version for a restaurant they used to own using premade pasta sauce as the base. Add some water, frozen veggies, pasta, seasonings, and walk away while it simmers. This soup takes very little time and effort to put together, but the payoff is big! In addition, it’s one of those dishes that fills the house with lingering aromas that beckon everyone to the kitchen for a taste.
Of course, in the heat of summer chilled soups are comforting as well. The refreshing vegetables, the spicy tang, and the pureed texture of gazpacho create one of my favorite summer time eatables. It's also fabulous served with icy shrimp in place of cocktail sauce. (Put it in a pretty wine glass and position some shrimp around the edge for a beautiful party appetizer.) Along the same lines as gazpacho are fruit soups, which we sampled last October on a cruise to Mexico. I liked the cantaloupe-peach combo which appeared to have cream swirled through it, but Jeff was partial to the berry-based dish. These were cool, refreshing, light, and somehow a little exotic - perfect for a summer party or cookout. Since they’re fruity and colorful, they seem to be a favorite with kids as well.
Ultimately, soup is a staple food – one of those dishes that is generally easy to make, but always pleases the palette. It's like a hug in a bowl – whether it’s the freshly mown grass of summer or the damp chill of cascading autumn leaves, soup is a taste of home.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Frozen Dinner Fix Up
Tonight's dinner - shrimp with orange sauce and jasmine rice - took only 15 minutes to fix thanks to frozen food shortcuts.
I started with the jasmine rice since it cooks in about 10 minutes and needs to stand for about five minutes after it comes off the heat. I like the longer cooking rice, though I do have some quick rice in the pantry for days when I'm really in a hurry. Jasmine rice has a slightly sweet flavor and aroma that really appeals to me and the guys. In addition, it is slightly sticky, so it is a good choice for sushi rolls. (The boy has decided he likes raw fish after eating several kinds of sushi at a friend's house. The husband, on the other hand, refers to it as bait and walks away. I like some sushi rolls - being particularly partial to ahi tuna - though I must admit I stick to the tame side with mostly veggies and rice. To that end I bought some wrappers and rolled jasmine rice, thin slices of avocado, and crisp-tender asparagus tips. A little bit of pepper and a squeeze of lemon made a refreshingly lovely snack.)
The best place I've found to buy interesting is rice is Super Target. The store has nearly half a grocery aisle dedicated to rice from across the globe, and package sizes vary considerably so it is easy to buy just a little of something to try.
While the rice cooked I tossed a package of frozen breaded shrimp into the oven. The SeaPac brand, which is tender and uses whole shrimp, takes about 12 minutes to cook. Meanwhile, I made orange sauce to give the whole thing a little interest, though I will make a few changes the next time around, because I started with a basic lemon sauce but didn't tweak it enough. Here's the starter recipe (which makes a really nice lemony sauce for chicken or shrimp):
Lemon Sauce
1.5 cups water
.5 cup lemon juice (fresh is great, but concentrate works well, too)
3 T. brown sugar
3 T. honey
3 T. cornstarch
2 t. instant chicken bouillon
1 t. minced ginger (the pre-minced jar works well, but I've also used powdered)
Mix all ingredients in a small saucepan. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until the sauce thickens and turns glossy.
So, tonight I substituted orange juice for the lemon juice, left out the honey and bouillon, but added extra ginger and chipotle sauce for a little heat. The sauce was tasty, but not as good as I had hoped. Next time, I will probably omit the water altogether and use just o.j. for the liquid. In addition, a good deal more heat is needed to balance out the sweetness, so extra minced ginger, some garlic, and good glop of chipotle sauce are in order. (Of course, if you have some small hot chilies on hand, that might be good, too.)
When the shrimp comes out of the oven, toss it with the sauce to give it a nice glaze and spoon it over the steaming rice. Some frozen Asian veggies would stretch this out and make it seem more like a full meal as opposed to an entree lacking side dishes. All in all, though, it was a good dinner requiring very little time, effort, or clean up.
I started with the jasmine rice since it cooks in about 10 minutes and needs to stand for about five minutes after it comes off the heat. I like the longer cooking rice, though I do have some quick rice in the pantry for days when I'm really in a hurry. Jasmine rice has a slightly sweet flavor and aroma that really appeals to me and the guys. In addition, it is slightly sticky, so it is a good choice for sushi rolls. (The boy has decided he likes raw fish after eating several kinds of sushi at a friend's house. The husband, on the other hand, refers to it as bait and walks away. I like some sushi rolls - being particularly partial to ahi tuna - though I must admit I stick to the tame side with mostly veggies and rice. To that end I bought some wrappers and rolled jasmine rice, thin slices of avocado, and crisp-tender asparagus tips. A little bit of pepper and a squeeze of lemon made a refreshingly lovely snack.)
The best place I've found to buy interesting is rice is Super Target. The store has nearly half a grocery aisle dedicated to rice from across the globe, and package sizes vary considerably so it is easy to buy just a little of something to try.
While the rice cooked I tossed a package of frozen breaded shrimp into the oven. The SeaPac brand, which is tender and uses whole shrimp, takes about 12 minutes to cook. Meanwhile, I made orange sauce to give the whole thing a little interest, though I will make a few changes the next time around, because I started with a basic lemon sauce but didn't tweak it enough. Here's the starter recipe (which makes a really nice lemony sauce for chicken or shrimp):
Lemon Sauce
1.5 cups water
.5 cup lemon juice (fresh is great, but concentrate works well, too)
3 T. brown sugar
3 T. honey
3 T. cornstarch
2 t. instant chicken bouillon
1 t. minced ginger (the pre-minced jar works well, but I've also used powdered)
Mix all ingredients in a small saucepan. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until the sauce thickens and turns glossy.
So, tonight I substituted orange juice for the lemon juice, left out the honey and bouillon, but added extra ginger and chipotle sauce for a little heat. The sauce was tasty, but not as good as I had hoped. Next time, I will probably omit the water altogether and use just o.j. for the liquid. In addition, a good deal more heat is needed to balance out the sweetness, so extra minced ginger, some garlic, and good glop of chipotle sauce are in order. (Of course, if you have some small hot chilies on hand, that might be good, too.)
When the shrimp comes out of the oven, toss it with the sauce to give it a nice glaze and spoon it over the steaming rice. Some frozen Asian veggies would stretch this out and make it seem more like a full meal as opposed to an entree lacking side dishes. All in all, though, it was a good dinner requiring very little time, effort, or clean up.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Theater Eats
The best part of going to the movies is the green light for candy consumption. Everyone expects to eat junk food while uber-sized explosions and epic battles unfold before our eyes, and my son and I are no exceptions. However, I balk at paying theater prices for my sweet snacks. I can't believe anyone forks over $3.75 for a small soda and $3.50 for box of M & M's.
The best place to stock up on movie theater candy without paying movie theater prices is Walgreens. The store has a wide selection of traditional movie candies in the "theater size" boxes as well as many other choices for those with distinctly nontraditional tastes. After surveying the Snow Caps, Junior Mints (and newer Junior Caramels), Charleston Chews, and Jujy Fruits adjacent to snack size packages of Nutter Butters, Boston Baked Beans, and Maple Nut Goodies, I chose my usual - Mike and Ike (regular fruit flavors, rather than the new Italian Ice or Tropical varieties) and Raisinets (I went for the dark chocolate today!). These candies go together like yin and yang. Eating one of each at the same time is reminiscent of chocolate covered fruit jellies, which are much more expensive. Unfortunately, there always seems to be more Mike and Ikes than Raisinets (sigh). On the other hand, my son likes contrasting flavors, so he opted for Good and Plenty and Reece's Pieces.
My family has carried goodies to the theater as long as I can remember. When I was young baggies of cookies and Hershey's kisses appeared out of my mom's purse. Of course, sometimes it is a game to see just how much we can get in. For example, when I was a teenager the over-sized olive drab Army jackets with a dozen pockets were in style, and (naturally) my brother had one in which he regularly stashed two 2-liter bottles of soda and a footlong sub sandwich for his snacking pleasure. Since we grew up in East Tennessee jackets were regular features, especially at the midnight movie, except at the height of summer, so most people were able to carry a ready stash.
When we were in college the stash became more nefarious, of course, with flasks of rum or cherry vodka supplementing bottles of cola and ginger ale alongside bags of potato chips. After all, movies like Pink Floyd's The Wall , Footloose or Rocky Horror Picture Show are often better after a couple of drinks. (Don't worry. We always had a designated driver.)
Now a days I live in the land of eternal sun where a jacket would scream "frisk me" 300 days of the year. Luckily, big purses are in style and I own a couple. The one I took today carried two bottles of soda and four boxes of candy without a hitch, though it was pretty heavy on my arm! Even after the goodies make it into the theater, you have to be careful flashing them around. Perhaps I'm paranoid, but I always think the people near us who paid full price for their drinks and snacks will turn us in for the contraband in my purse, so we wait until the lights go down on the previews to unload everything. Then, we wait for the first loud noise on screen to cover the hissing of the pop bottles opening. Finally, we nosh the candy and sip the sodas, enjoying our treats all the more knowing we paid a reasonable price for them. This adds to our enjoyment of the movie itself, because who wants to spend twenty bucks on yummy treats?
The best place to stock up on movie theater candy without paying movie theater prices is Walgreens. The store has a wide selection of traditional movie candies in the "theater size" boxes as well as many other choices for those with distinctly nontraditional tastes. After surveying the Snow Caps, Junior Mints (and newer Junior Caramels), Charleston Chews, and Jujy Fruits adjacent to snack size packages of Nutter Butters, Boston Baked Beans, and Maple Nut Goodies, I chose my usual - Mike and Ike (regular fruit flavors, rather than the new Italian Ice or Tropical varieties) and Raisinets (I went for the dark chocolate today!). These candies go together like yin and yang. Eating one of each at the same time is reminiscent of chocolate covered fruit jellies, which are much more expensive. Unfortunately, there always seems to be more Mike and Ikes than Raisinets (sigh). On the other hand, my son likes contrasting flavors, so he opted for Good and Plenty and Reece's Pieces.
My family has carried goodies to the theater as long as I can remember. When I was young baggies of cookies and Hershey's kisses appeared out of my mom's purse. Of course, sometimes it is a game to see just how much we can get in. For example, when I was a teenager the over-sized olive drab Army jackets with a dozen pockets were in style, and (naturally) my brother had one in which he regularly stashed two 2-liter bottles of soda and a footlong sub sandwich for his snacking pleasure. Since we grew up in East Tennessee jackets were regular features, especially at the midnight movie, except at the height of summer, so most people were able to carry a ready stash.
When we were in college the stash became more nefarious, of course, with flasks of rum or cherry vodka supplementing bottles of cola and ginger ale alongside bags of potato chips. After all, movies like Pink Floyd's The Wall , Footloose or Rocky Horror Picture Show are often better after a couple of drinks. (Don't worry. We always had a designated driver.)
Now a days I live in the land of eternal sun where a jacket would scream "frisk me" 300 days of the year. Luckily, big purses are in style and I own a couple. The one I took today carried two bottles of soda and four boxes of candy without a hitch, though it was pretty heavy on my arm! Even after the goodies make it into the theater, you have to be careful flashing them around. Perhaps I'm paranoid, but I always think the people near us who paid full price for their drinks and snacks will turn us in for the contraband in my purse, so we wait until the lights go down on the previews to unload everything. Then, we wait for the first loud noise on screen to cover the hissing of the pop bottles opening. Finally, we nosh the candy and sip the sodas, enjoying our treats all the more knowing we paid a reasonable price for them. This adds to our enjoyment of the movie itself, because who wants to spend twenty bucks on yummy treats?
Friday, April 16, 2010
Impromptu Road Trip
Road trips usually call for coolers brimming with cold drinks and special snack foods, but today an unexpected trip meant eating on the fly.
At 3 p.m. this afternoon my son and I were standing in line at QuickTrip with drinks and munchies before embarking on a three hour drive to Flagstaff to pick up an ailing hubby from the all state music festival. (A morning trip to urgent care, a prescription for pain killers, and a day of sleeping at the hotel meant the poor guy needed a ride home that did not entail a school bus at the end of a 12-hour work day tomorrow.)
A full tank of gas, a caffeine-laced half cherry slush half Dr. Pepper, and some Wheat Thins meant I was ready to roll. Of course, the boy had a large drink and a couple of spicy taquitos to tide him over while we listened to his favorite songs on the IPod and baffled other drivers with strange hand gestures. For example, as we were stuck in some slow moving traffic a guy passed us briefly and scowled at my son. After a couple of moments we rolled passed the same car, and the boy shook his arm and fist similarly to a cartoon character yelling "You young whippersnappers!" at neighborhood hooligans. The look of confusion on the other motorist's face was priceless. We laughed heartily and discussed the prospect of waggling our fingers at someone just for the heck of it. (Remember, this sort of thing is great fun when you're 15, and apparently when you're 45 as well.)
Somewhere between "Crazy Train" and "Stairway to Heaven" six foot two and not so shaggy entertained me with stories of his exploits at school. He lives somewhere between a soap opera of teenage angst and a sitcom in which the kids are smarter than the teacher. This combination makes for lively conversation and our three hour sprint to Flagstaff flew by. Along the way we were treated to beautiful vistas. Spring rains have been plentiful this year bringing the desert to life with hills covered in sunny yellow flowers and stretching into meadows of vibrantly green grass the color of freshly peeled tomatillos. Rock outcroppings stood sentinel over the riot of plant life. As we reached the outskirts of Flagstaff, the straight-timbered forests of evergreens sheltered patches of pristine snow that fell last week, holding on to their soggy edges disintegrating into the beds of fallen pine needles where the bright sun crept in.
After picking up Jeff, we hit the drive through at Mickey D's for nourishment before making the three hour trip back home. It was time for more caffeine, so an iced hazelnut latte hit the spot. McDonald's actually has some good coffee drinks which are not cheap, but shave a dollar or two off of Starbuck's. In addition, I tried a crispy chicken wrap (only $1.49) which had a strip of fried chicken, grated cheese, shredded lettuce, and sauce (barbecue, ranch, or honey mustard) all rolled into a flour tortilla for easy handling. This was surprisingly good and tasted freshly made. The boy had his usual order of McDoubles to go.
As we hit the road, Jeff laid across the back seat attempting to self-induce sleep. My son and I plied him with a couple of lullabies to no avail, so my MP3 player was plugged in for some old John Denver tunes. The setting sun provided spectacular backdrops of mesas silhouetted like a study in perspective against a pink purple sky and a blazing orange orb sinking behind the black outlines. As night came on, the darkness and soft crooning music brought a melancholy mood to the car. After an hour of near silence, I heard about the betrayals of "friends," the girl my son likes and guy she likes who treats her poorly, and all the heartaches of high school. But the sad tone lifted when we started reminiscing about other road trips - the beach, the mountains, Disneyland, Sea World, Catalina Island. Jeff awoke and talked about driving with our son when he was a baby. (It's hard to believe he'll have his learner's permit in a few months!)
By the time we reached home, I felt I knew my son better than ever and was grateful we had spent six and a half hours together on our impromptu road trip.
At 3 p.m. this afternoon my son and I were standing in line at QuickTrip with drinks and munchies before embarking on a three hour drive to Flagstaff to pick up an ailing hubby from the all state music festival. (A morning trip to urgent care, a prescription for pain killers, and a day of sleeping at the hotel meant the poor guy needed a ride home that did not entail a school bus at the end of a 12-hour work day tomorrow.)
A full tank of gas, a caffeine-laced half cherry slush half Dr. Pepper, and some Wheat Thins meant I was ready to roll. Of course, the boy had a large drink and a couple of spicy taquitos to tide him over while we listened to his favorite songs on the IPod and baffled other drivers with strange hand gestures. For example, as we were stuck in some slow moving traffic a guy passed us briefly and scowled at my son. After a couple of moments we rolled passed the same car, and the boy shook his arm and fist similarly to a cartoon character yelling "You young whippersnappers!" at neighborhood hooligans. The look of confusion on the other motorist's face was priceless. We laughed heartily and discussed the prospect of waggling our fingers at someone just for the heck of it. (Remember, this sort of thing is great fun when you're 15, and apparently when you're 45 as well.)
Somewhere between "Crazy Train" and "Stairway to Heaven" six foot two and not so shaggy entertained me with stories of his exploits at school. He lives somewhere between a soap opera of teenage angst and a sitcom in which the kids are smarter than the teacher. This combination makes for lively conversation and our three hour sprint to Flagstaff flew by. Along the way we were treated to beautiful vistas. Spring rains have been plentiful this year bringing the desert to life with hills covered in sunny yellow flowers and stretching into meadows of vibrantly green grass the color of freshly peeled tomatillos. Rock outcroppings stood sentinel over the riot of plant life. As we reached the outskirts of Flagstaff, the straight-timbered forests of evergreens sheltered patches of pristine snow that fell last week, holding on to their soggy edges disintegrating into the beds of fallen pine needles where the bright sun crept in.
After picking up Jeff, we hit the drive through at Mickey D's for nourishment before making the three hour trip back home. It was time for more caffeine, so an iced hazelnut latte hit the spot. McDonald's actually has some good coffee drinks which are not cheap, but shave a dollar or two off of Starbuck's. In addition, I tried a crispy chicken wrap (only $1.49) which had a strip of fried chicken, grated cheese, shredded lettuce, and sauce (barbecue, ranch, or honey mustard) all rolled into a flour tortilla for easy handling. This was surprisingly good and tasted freshly made. The boy had his usual order of McDoubles to go.
As we hit the road, Jeff laid across the back seat attempting to self-induce sleep. My son and I plied him with a couple of lullabies to no avail, so my MP3 player was plugged in for some old John Denver tunes. The setting sun provided spectacular backdrops of mesas silhouetted like a study in perspective against a pink purple sky and a blazing orange orb sinking behind the black outlines. As night came on, the darkness and soft crooning music brought a melancholy mood to the car. After an hour of near silence, I heard about the betrayals of "friends," the girl my son likes and guy she likes who treats her poorly, and all the heartaches of high school. But the sad tone lifted when we started reminiscing about other road trips - the beach, the mountains, Disneyland, Sea World, Catalina Island. Jeff awoke and talked about driving with our son when he was a baby. (It's hard to believe he'll have his learner's permit in a few months!)
By the time we reached home, I felt I knew my son better than ever and was grateful we had spent six and a half hours together on our impromptu road trip.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Missing Ingredients
Usually I'm not disappointed with fast food because my expectations are low; however, tonight Taco Bell let me down.
I know. You're asking, "But, Jenny, why are you even eating out. You've spent more than this week's allowance already." The unfortunate truth is I'm weak. As fourth quarter progresses I grow tired of grading, cooking, cleaning, and every other chore that I've been responsible enough to do regularly since last August. In addition, when Jeff's not home for dinner, the weakness is compounded by puppy dog eyes from six-foot-two and not-so-shaggy.
"Mom, you know you want to eat out tonight, right?"
"I don't know. We ate out last weekend."
"Aw...Dad wouldn't want to miss out on you cooking something good, though."
"We could have something from the freezer then."
"Aw...I'm really in the mood for tacos!"
Of course, "tacos" is the magic word since Jeff isn't wild about Mexican food. My son knows this and uses it to reel me in hook, line, and sinker. I pretend to put up a fight, but we both know that I'm as good as in the net.
Thus, we donned flip flops and headed to Taco Bell for dinner, deciding on the way to bring it home and avoid the noise. Much to my dismay, when we arrived home my caramel-apple empanada was missing! This is heart wrenching since it is by far the best thing on the menu and the most important reason to choose Taco Bell over other fast food establishments. I contemplated going back, but decided it would cost more in gas than the 99 cent treat was worth. I consoled myself with the thought of having two different entrees since I had ordered selections from the value menu - crispy potato soft taco and five layer burrito, both of which go for 89 cents.
The potato concoction was a taco size flour tortilla filled with breaded, fried potato bites like crunchy tater tots, shredded lettuce, cheese, and a spicy mayo-based sauce that brought the whole thing together nicely. It was hot and tasty, which improved my sour mood caused by the missing empanada. However, when I opened the five layer burrito I discovered another disappointment - only three layers. The burrito contained beef, cheese, and sour cream but not the promised lettuce and tomato. Perhaps the older couple next to me in line received my empanada and two extra layers. After all, the girl at the register tried to give me their credit card, so it only seems fair they should have my stuff.
Since Taco Bell failed to meet my (low) standards, perhaps they need government oversight. We could set up a committee of 20 or so elected officials who have no clue how to run a business (much less a state or country) to stand around and point out everything that is wrong without offering any suggestions for fixing it. In addition, they could spend all the money earmarked for improvement on flying from one Taco Bell to the next to observe successful models in action instead of using it to properly train employees. Ultimately, they might render a 1,000 page document on their findings which will be delivered to each employee by express mail and at great expense to the taxpayer.
Oh wait...I have a better idea. Maybe those of us who are disappointed should just stop spending our money there. If service and product is consistently poor, the restaurant will eventually suffer financial losses forcing it to close. I'm sure the oversight committee would suggest a bailout, but I say let it fail.
Hmm...Perhaps I am feeling just a little sarcastic tonight. It's sad when the thought of not eating at a fast food joint brings to mind the process of big government.
I know. You're asking, "But, Jenny, why are you even eating out. You've spent more than this week's allowance already." The unfortunate truth is I'm weak. As fourth quarter progresses I grow tired of grading, cooking, cleaning, and every other chore that I've been responsible enough to do regularly since last August. In addition, when Jeff's not home for dinner, the weakness is compounded by puppy dog eyes from six-foot-two and not-so-shaggy.
"Mom, you know you want to eat out tonight, right?"
"I don't know. We ate out last weekend."
"Aw...Dad wouldn't want to miss out on you cooking something good, though."
"We could have something from the freezer then."
"Aw...I'm really in the mood for tacos!"
Of course, "tacos" is the magic word since Jeff isn't wild about Mexican food. My son knows this and uses it to reel me in hook, line, and sinker. I pretend to put up a fight, but we both know that I'm as good as in the net.
Thus, we donned flip flops and headed to Taco Bell for dinner, deciding on the way to bring it home and avoid the noise. Much to my dismay, when we arrived home my caramel-apple empanada was missing! This is heart wrenching since it is by far the best thing on the menu and the most important reason to choose Taco Bell over other fast food establishments. I contemplated going back, but decided it would cost more in gas than the 99 cent treat was worth. I consoled myself with the thought of having two different entrees since I had ordered selections from the value menu - crispy potato soft taco and five layer burrito, both of which go for 89 cents.
The potato concoction was a taco size flour tortilla filled with breaded, fried potato bites like crunchy tater tots, shredded lettuce, cheese, and a spicy mayo-based sauce that brought the whole thing together nicely. It was hot and tasty, which improved my sour mood caused by the missing empanada. However, when I opened the five layer burrito I discovered another disappointment - only three layers. The burrito contained beef, cheese, and sour cream but not the promised lettuce and tomato. Perhaps the older couple next to me in line received my empanada and two extra layers. After all, the girl at the register tried to give me their credit card, so it only seems fair they should have my stuff.
Since Taco Bell failed to meet my (low) standards, perhaps they need government oversight. We could set up a committee of 20 or so elected officials who have no clue how to run a business (much less a state or country) to stand around and point out everything that is wrong without offering any suggestions for fixing it. In addition, they could spend all the money earmarked for improvement on flying from one Taco Bell to the next to observe successful models in action instead of using it to properly train employees. Ultimately, they might render a 1,000 page document on their findings which will be delivered to each employee by express mail and at great expense to the taxpayer.
Oh wait...I have a better idea. Maybe those of us who are disappointed should just stop spending our money there. If service and product is consistently poor, the restaurant will eventually suffer financial losses forcing it to close. I'm sure the oversight committee would suggest a bailout, but I say let it fail.
Hmm...Perhaps I am feeling just a little sarcastic tonight. It's sad when the thought of not eating at a fast food joint brings to mind the process of big government.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Happy Mess
Homemade spaghetti sauce is one of the ten best things in life. All the fresh peppers, onions, garlic, and mushrooms melding into crushed tomatoes makes for tasty comfort food, and it's even better with herbs from the garden. Tonight I snipped flat leaf parsley, oregano, purple basil, and garlic chives for the sauce. Just a spoonful of sugar balances out the acid, and some slow simmering makes heaven on earth.
I never cook more pasta than we'll eat in one meal because I don't like how it gets sticky, rubbery, chewy in the fridge. But left over sauce doesn't really need pasta anyway. It's good on toast like a sloppy joe or in a bowl with tortilla chips. It's also good on toasted English muffins, topped with cheese, and put under the broiler for mini pizzas. Of course, I could just eat it out of the storage container cold, too.
Spaghetti seems to be a perennial favorite with kids and adults alike, though I never order it out because I don't want to wear it home. I've worn enough things home without tempting fate by slurping long strands of pasta in through pursed lips while the sauce splatters indiscriminately across any white blouse in a 10-foot radius. I have to say, I come by this rightly. Once, when I was kid, my parents took the family to a nice restaurant for dinner. Since we didn't eat out often, this occasion called for nice clothes and party manners. At the time, my mom had a lovely baby blue pant set with ultra suede slacks and a dyed to match top in some shiny microfiber blend. It was one of her favorite outfits (and later mine when she let me wear it a couple of times). However, the curse of wearing something light and lovely while eating Italian food followed our travels that evening. My mom ordered eggplant parmesan - a lovely dish with medallions of fried eggplant that is then baked with layers of cheese and accompanied by pasta and delicious red sauce. Unfortunately, one of the bites cascaded off of her fork and proceeded to dance its way down her shirt leaving a trail of marinara in its wake. Much to my tall, lanky brother's chagrin, when dinner ended and we made our way to the door, she held on to his shoulder walking closely behind him and holding her purse to her chest so no one would see the trail of sauce on her blouse. Once out the door, though, we all had a good laugh over the entire event, and happily the sauce washed out easily.
I have a habit of repeating this episode frequently, though in recent years I've been lucky enough to do it home more than out. As a matter of fact, these days I make it a point to wear an apron each morning while I'm fixing and eating breakfast in an effort to protect my work wardrobe from stains. This habit began the day I wore a new cream colored sleeveless sweater and ate berry yogurt which seemed to jump headlong from my spoon running south to freedom via the front of my shirt. Unfortunately, the blackberry purple never came out and the blouse was discarded without ever being worn out of the house (heavy sigh). My inability to keep a shirt clean as an adult started when I was a baby as evidenced by the fact that my grandfather referred to me as "Happy Mess" and the fact that there are several pictures in which I seem to be wearing food rather than eating it.
Recently my mother-in-law purchased adult bibs to combat this very problem. These are hand towels that come with a short chain bordered by clips (like the ones at the dentist). The idea, of course, is to protect clothing from stains and keep people from wearing their lunch back to work. However, I can't picture myself pulling out this contraption in a restaurant for all to see. Imagine the sneers from fellow patrons. "Look, little Johnny, that woman has a bib just like yours!" (No thanks.) On the other hand, the merits of one of these towels while driving might be worthwhile. After all, I have been known to slosh coffee on my slacks when the idiot in front of us hits his brakes because he's watching a coyote run across a nearby field or sees a roadrunner racing him from the ditch.
Ultimately, women seem to have more of a problem with this than men. Probably because not enough guys wear ties any more, which is the manly catch-all equivalent of a lady's silk blouse. My grandmother used to say the problem wasn't that she was messy, but that her bust was so big she had a built in shelf. I can still hear her now, "Why, you could put a coffee cup and a piece of cake up there, Jen!" Of course, this isn't really so bad as long as we're talking about dessert!
I never cook more pasta than we'll eat in one meal because I don't like how it gets sticky, rubbery, chewy in the fridge. But left over sauce doesn't really need pasta anyway. It's good on toast like a sloppy joe or in a bowl with tortilla chips. It's also good on toasted English muffins, topped with cheese, and put under the broiler for mini pizzas. Of course, I could just eat it out of the storage container cold, too.
Spaghetti seems to be a perennial favorite with kids and adults alike, though I never order it out because I don't want to wear it home. I've worn enough things home without tempting fate by slurping long strands of pasta in through pursed lips while the sauce splatters indiscriminately across any white blouse in a 10-foot radius. I have to say, I come by this rightly. Once, when I was kid, my parents took the family to a nice restaurant for dinner. Since we didn't eat out often, this occasion called for nice clothes and party manners. At the time, my mom had a lovely baby blue pant set with ultra suede slacks and a dyed to match top in some shiny microfiber blend. It was one of her favorite outfits (and later mine when she let me wear it a couple of times). However, the curse of wearing something light and lovely while eating Italian food followed our travels that evening. My mom ordered eggplant parmesan - a lovely dish with medallions of fried eggplant that is then baked with layers of cheese and accompanied by pasta and delicious red sauce. Unfortunately, one of the bites cascaded off of her fork and proceeded to dance its way down her shirt leaving a trail of marinara in its wake. Much to my tall, lanky brother's chagrin, when dinner ended and we made our way to the door, she held on to his shoulder walking closely behind him and holding her purse to her chest so no one would see the trail of sauce on her blouse. Once out the door, though, we all had a good laugh over the entire event, and happily the sauce washed out easily.
I have a habit of repeating this episode frequently, though in recent years I've been lucky enough to do it home more than out. As a matter of fact, these days I make it a point to wear an apron each morning while I'm fixing and eating breakfast in an effort to protect my work wardrobe from stains. This habit began the day I wore a new cream colored sleeveless sweater and ate berry yogurt which seemed to jump headlong from my spoon running south to freedom via the front of my shirt. Unfortunately, the blackberry purple never came out and the blouse was discarded without ever being worn out of the house (heavy sigh). My inability to keep a shirt clean as an adult started when I was a baby as evidenced by the fact that my grandfather referred to me as "Happy Mess" and the fact that there are several pictures in which I seem to be wearing food rather than eating it.
Recently my mother-in-law purchased adult bibs to combat this very problem. These are hand towels that come with a short chain bordered by clips (like the ones at the dentist). The idea, of course, is to protect clothing from stains and keep people from wearing their lunch back to work. However, I can't picture myself pulling out this contraption in a restaurant for all to see. Imagine the sneers from fellow patrons. "Look, little Johnny, that woman has a bib just like yours!" (No thanks.) On the other hand, the merits of one of these towels while driving might be worthwhile. After all, I have been known to slosh coffee on my slacks when the idiot in front of us hits his brakes because he's watching a coyote run across a nearby field or sees a roadrunner racing him from the ditch.
Ultimately, women seem to have more of a problem with this than men. Probably because not enough guys wear ties any more, which is the manly catch-all equivalent of a lady's silk blouse. My grandmother used to say the problem wasn't that she was messy, but that her bust was so big she had a built in shelf. I can still hear her now, "Why, you could put a coffee cup and a piece of cake up there, Jen!" Of course, this isn't really so bad as long as we're talking about dessert!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Treats All Around
Tonight was all about indulgences, mine and the guys'. I started with deep fried black eyed peas and ended with homemade chocolate chip cookies. What could be better than a new twist on a Southern favorite coupled with classic snacking?
First, let me explain that I'd never heard of fried black eyed peas until my mom sent me a recipe link (allrecipes.com) last week. It appears that someone has created this new "bar food" for those of us who just love our cow peas. The peas start out in the normal way - soaking overnight and then boiling until tender, but not mushy. The recipe calls for a couple of bay leaves and some onion chunks in the water, which I added, but I don't think it would make any difference to leave these out because the real flavor comes with the seasonings at the end. After cooking the peas, drain them well on some paper towels before frying. Heat the oil to 375 degrees and put in about a cup and a half at a time. The directions say to fry the peas between four and seven minutes, and it really took at least six minutes to make them crunchy. After draining the oil on more paper towels, toss the peas into a bowl with some kosher salt and seafood seasoning. (I used a shaker of shellfish seasoning that has a nice bite to it.)
I have to confess I was a little skeptical when I read the recipe, though now I can't imagine why. After all, we're talking about black eyed peas, deep frying, and good seasoning. What could go wrong? Nothing. These were interesting and tasty. I took them downstairs to munch on while we watching t.v. and enjoyed every bite. They were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. None of them were hard or chewy. My husband, who isn't a fan of black eyed peas, didn't care for them (big surprise), but my son did like them and actually ate a bowl of his own. There were plenty left over (since I boiled and fried the entire package), which went into the fridge. Hopefully, they'll reheat well tomorrow night at snack time.
While my lovely black eyed peas boiled, I whipped up a batch of cookie dough for the guys. Jeff swears I make the best chocolate chip cookies in the world, but it isn't because I have a fantastic recipe. (I just use the one on the chip package.) The secret to great cookies is in the baking. Never cook them as long as the recipe says. For example, the toll house package says to bake the cookies at 375 degrees for nine to eleven minutes. So, set the timer for eight minutes and leave them on the cookie sheet for at least three or four minutes after you take them out. (Usually, I put the hot pan on a cooling rack while a second pan goes into the oven. About three minutes before the second pan will be ready, the cookies come off the pan and on to a second cooling rack. Then the pan is refilled and ready to go when the next one comes out of the oven.) Taking the cookies out early keeps them from getting crunchy, but leaving them on a hot pan for several extra minutes allows them to finish baking all the way through. Thus, perfect golden chocolate chip cookies that hold their shape but remain soft and chewy smacking of rich brown sugar and butter.
Of course, not all the dough makes it to the oven around here. The guys always have to have a couple of (large) spoonfuls of cookie dough once it's mixed. This doesn't bother me, though, because it's one less pan I have to spoon out and time! Whenever I make cookies I ask the guys if they want to eat the dough raw or baked. The answer (generally in unison) is always, "Yes!" This pretty much applies to all cookie dough, but chocolate chip is the hands down favorite around here.
By the time all this boiling, frying, baking concluded, I was ready to just eat peas and cookies, but alas the guys were interested in something more substantial. So, we tossed a couple of pizzas in the oven to satisfy dinner cravings and headed for t.v. time. The good news is there is plenty of leftovers, so maybe I won't have to cook tomorrow, although I might anyway.
First, let me explain that I'd never heard of fried black eyed peas until my mom sent me a recipe link (allrecipes.com) last week. It appears that someone has created this new "bar food" for those of us who just love our cow peas. The peas start out in the normal way - soaking overnight and then boiling until tender, but not mushy. The recipe calls for a couple of bay leaves and some onion chunks in the water, which I added, but I don't think it would make any difference to leave these out because the real flavor comes with the seasonings at the end. After cooking the peas, drain them well on some paper towels before frying. Heat the oil to 375 degrees and put in about a cup and a half at a time. The directions say to fry the peas between four and seven minutes, and it really took at least six minutes to make them crunchy. After draining the oil on more paper towels, toss the peas into a bowl with some kosher salt and seafood seasoning. (I used a shaker of shellfish seasoning that has a nice bite to it.)
I have to confess I was a little skeptical when I read the recipe, though now I can't imagine why. After all, we're talking about black eyed peas, deep frying, and good seasoning. What could go wrong? Nothing. These were interesting and tasty. I took them downstairs to munch on while we watching t.v. and enjoyed every bite. They were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. None of them were hard or chewy. My husband, who isn't a fan of black eyed peas, didn't care for them (big surprise), but my son did like them and actually ate a bowl of his own. There were plenty left over (since I boiled and fried the entire package), which went into the fridge. Hopefully, they'll reheat well tomorrow night at snack time.
While my lovely black eyed peas boiled, I whipped up a batch of cookie dough for the guys. Jeff swears I make the best chocolate chip cookies in the world, but it isn't because I have a fantastic recipe. (I just use the one on the chip package.) The secret to great cookies is in the baking. Never cook them as long as the recipe says. For example, the toll house package says to bake the cookies at 375 degrees for nine to eleven minutes. So, set the timer for eight minutes and leave them on the cookie sheet for at least three or four minutes after you take them out. (Usually, I put the hot pan on a cooling rack while a second pan goes into the oven. About three minutes before the second pan will be ready, the cookies come off the pan and on to a second cooling rack. Then the pan is refilled and ready to go when the next one comes out of the oven.) Taking the cookies out early keeps them from getting crunchy, but leaving them on a hot pan for several extra minutes allows them to finish baking all the way through. Thus, perfect golden chocolate chip cookies that hold their shape but remain soft and chewy smacking of rich brown sugar and butter.
Of course, not all the dough makes it to the oven around here. The guys always have to have a couple of (large) spoonfuls of cookie dough once it's mixed. This doesn't bother me, though, because it's one less pan I have to spoon out and time! Whenever I make cookies I ask the guys if they want to eat the dough raw or baked. The answer (generally in unison) is always, "Yes!" This pretty much applies to all cookie dough, but chocolate chip is the hands down favorite around here.
By the time all this boiling, frying, baking concluded, I was ready to just eat peas and cookies, but alas the guys were interested in something more substantial. So, we tossed a couple of pizzas in the oven to satisfy dinner cravings and headed for t.v. time. The good news is there is plenty of leftovers, so maybe I won't have to cook tomorrow, although I might anyway.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Shepherd's Pie Peppered
I can't eat cottage pie (a.k.a. shepherd's pie) without hearing strains of Sweeney Todd.
It's priest. Have a little priest.
Is it very good?
Sir, it's too good at least.
Awful lot of fat.
Only where it sat.
Haven't you got poet or something like that?
No, you see the trouble with poet is how do you know it's deceased? Try the priest.
Heavenly!
Indeed, that's what we had for dinner tonight (shepherd's pie, not priest). After getting a mediocre version at a restaurant on Saturday, Jeff wanted something better and I obliged.
The dish starts with boiling some cut up potatoes for the topping. I like homemade mashed potatoes so much better than instant that I only use the boxed kind when I'm in a big hurry. Generally, the real thing is worth the wait and the effort. Besides, I don't like my taters overly smooth. The texture needs to be creamy from butter and milk, but not so whipped they have that processed feel to them.
While the potatoes were boiling, I pulled some left over burger patties out the fridge where they had been tossed yesterday to defrost. After crumbling and browning the burgers in went a couple of tablespoons of flour to thicken the juices and then vegetable stock to make the gravy. Of course milk or any other kind of stock would also be good, but I just happened to have an open carton that needed to be finished. Some wine might also be nice (Wish I had put some in tonight.), but use something good. (Remember, don't cook with anything you wouldn't actually drink!) After the gravy is thickened stir in a package of mixed veggies. (Any kind will do, but I prefer peas, carrots, green beans, for this kind of thing.) For seasonings, a healthy dose of pepper is always a good start. I also added salt, onion powder, and a few shots of chipotle sauce for warmth. This mixture simmered on low while I mashed the potatoes with butter, milk, salt, and pepper.
Finally, after ladling the filling into eight ramekins divvy up the taters on top. Then, put them in the oven for about 20 minutes, and finish them under the broiler to brown the tops a little. The result is a top crust that is golden and beautiful, yet fluffy inside. The potatoes seal in all the gravy, so the meat is tender, flavorful, and very hot.
This whole process is the same one I use to make homemade pot pies. Usually I toss in whatever left over veggies I have and skip the meat, but of course any combination is good. Instead of topping the ramekin with mashed potatoes, cut triangles out of ready-made pie dough and drape them across the filling, which then bubbles up around the crispy crust when it bakes.
Of course, being Southern, I just have to have some kind of bread on the table, so tonight I popped some extra large buttermilk biscuits in the oven, too, which we ate with plenty of honey as a nice counterpoint to the pepperiness of the gravy. (Mmm..mm) All in all, I'd say this was about a hundred times better than the cottage pie we forked over $9 for at Robbie Fox's on Saturday. I don't think Jeff will ever order this out again!
It's priest. Have a little priest.
Is it very good?
Sir, it's too good at least.
Awful lot of fat.
Only where it sat.
Haven't you got poet or something like that?
No, you see the trouble with poet is how do you know it's deceased? Try the priest.
Heavenly!
Indeed, that's what we had for dinner tonight (shepherd's pie, not priest). After getting a mediocre version at a restaurant on Saturday, Jeff wanted something better and I obliged.
The dish starts with boiling some cut up potatoes for the topping. I like homemade mashed potatoes so much better than instant that I only use the boxed kind when I'm in a big hurry. Generally, the real thing is worth the wait and the effort. Besides, I don't like my taters overly smooth. The texture needs to be creamy from butter and milk, but not so whipped they have that processed feel to them.
While the potatoes were boiling, I pulled some left over burger patties out the fridge where they had been tossed yesterday to defrost. After crumbling and browning the burgers in went a couple of tablespoons of flour to thicken the juices and then vegetable stock to make the gravy. Of course milk or any other kind of stock would also be good, but I just happened to have an open carton that needed to be finished. Some wine might also be nice (Wish I had put some in tonight.), but use something good. (Remember, don't cook with anything you wouldn't actually drink!) After the gravy is thickened stir in a package of mixed veggies. (Any kind will do, but I prefer peas, carrots, green beans, for this kind of thing.) For seasonings, a healthy dose of pepper is always a good start. I also added salt, onion powder, and a few shots of chipotle sauce for warmth. This mixture simmered on low while I mashed the potatoes with butter, milk, salt, and pepper.
Finally, after ladling the filling into eight ramekins divvy up the taters on top. Then, put them in the oven for about 20 minutes, and finish them under the broiler to brown the tops a little. The result is a top crust that is golden and beautiful, yet fluffy inside. The potatoes seal in all the gravy, so the meat is tender, flavorful, and very hot.
This whole process is the same one I use to make homemade pot pies. Usually I toss in whatever left over veggies I have and skip the meat, but of course any combination is good. Instead of topping the ramekin with mashed potatoes, cut triangles out of ready-made pie dough and drape them across the filling, which then bubbles up around the crispy crust when it bakes.
Of course, being Southern, I just have to have some kind of bread on the table, so tonight I popped some extra large buttermilk biscuits in the oven, too, which we ate with plenty of honey as a nice counterpoint to the pepperiness of the gravy. (Mmm..mm) All in all, I'd say this was about a hundred times better than the cottage pie we forked over $9 for at Robbie Fox's on Saturday. I don't think Jeff will ever order this out again!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Homemade Fast Food
Boneless, skinless chicken breast was on sale today, and as I contemplated the packages my mind conjured up pictures of good things to eat. One of the first things that popped into the vacancy of my Sunday afternoon brain was chicken strips at Mickey D's. The last time we ate there I had the three piece meal which came with fries and a soda and set me back $5.99. (Ouch!) So I decided that we'd have fast food at home tonight with our own chicken dinner.
I like fried chicken in smaller pieces (The better to add good breading, my dear!) so I used some handy-dandy kitchen shears to chunk it. I think the shears do a much better job than a knife, and it's easier to cut off any excess fat. The breading was pretty standard beginning with dredging the pieces in flour, then into whisked egg and milk, ending with a bread crumb mixture. Half Italian crumbs and half panko crumbs create a nice coating with a little crunch. Even though the bread crumbs are seasoned, the mixture still needs salt and pepper for good measure.
While my chicken tenders were frying to golden perfection, I whipped up some cole slaw - the world's easiest side dish when you use the pre-shredded mix. I'm pretty traditional with this dish, too, using mayonnaise, vinegar, salt, pepper, and sugar. I do like a sweeter vinegar than plain, so I usually use apple cider or pineapple vinegar. In addition, I like enough dressing to lightly coat all of the cabbage and carrots, but not drown it. Of course, this is a personal preference as some people I know think you should just whisper the dressing across the raw cabbage. (Of course, these people are often very thin and very unhappy.)
To finish off our fast food night I fried up some shoestring potatoes after the chicken was done and resting in the oven. I really like the crinkle cut fries best because they get brown on the outside and stay fluffy on the inside, but shoestrings were on sale really cheap a couple of weeks ago, so we need to eat up the current bag. Truthfully, they're much better in the fryer than in the oven. (What isn't, right?) And, of course, all French fries are good salty and piping hot, so that's the way we ate them.
When everything was finished, we loaded our extravagance onto a tray and headed for the theater where we watched The Importance of Being Ernest, an old Oscar Wild play turned into a period piece film. It was light and funny, the perfect companion for our homemade fast food feast. Who needs McDonald's anyway?
I like fried chicken in smaller pieces (The better to add good breading, my dear!) so I used some handy-dandy kitchen shears to chunk it. I think the shears do a much better job than a knife, and it's easier to cut off any excess fat. The breading was pretty standard beginning with dredging the pieces in flour, then into whisked egg and milk, ending with a bread crumb mixture. Half Italian crumbs and half panko crumbs create a nice coating with a little crunch. Even though the bread crumbs are seasoned, the mixture still needs salt and pepper for good measure.
While my chicken tenders were frying to golden perfection, I whipped up some cole slaw - the world's easiest side dish when you use the pre-shredded mix. I'm pretty traditional with this dish, too, using mayonnaise, vinegar, salt, pepper, and sugar. I do like a sweeter vinegar than plain, so I usually use apple cider or pineapple vinegar. In addition, I like enough dressing to lightly coat all of the cabbage and carrots, but not drown it. Of course, this is a personal preference as some people I know think you should just whisper the dressing across the raw cabbage. (Of course, these people are often very thin and very unhappy.)
To finish off our fast food night I fried up some shoestring potatoes after the chicken was done and resting in the oven. I really like the crinkle cut fries best because they get brown on the outside and stay fluffy on the inside, but shoestrings were on sale really cheap a couple of weeks ago, so we need to eat up the current bag. Truthfully, they're much better in the fryer than in the oven. (What isn't, right?) And, of course, all French fries are good salty and piping hot, so that's the way we ate them.
When everything was finished, we loaded our extravagance onto a tray and headed for the theater where we watched The Importance of Being Ernest, an old Oscar Wild play turned into a period piece film. It was light and funny, the perfect companion for our homemade fast food feast. Who needs McDonald's anyway?
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Lunch Out with the Guys
Today Jeff and the ragamuffin accompanied me to ASU where I interviewed for a spot in the Central Arizona Writing Project. While I was busy talking about teaching and writing, Jeff gave our son a tour of his alma mater complete with stops at two libraries. The boy was in seventh heaven! Of course all that exploring in the midday sunshine made them hungry, so we just had to find something good downtown. (Actually, we planned on eating out and doing some shopping when we left this morning, but the other story sounds better.)
We went to Mill Avenue, which is the street where all the restaurants, bars, and shops congregate around campus, hoping to find something interesting. Unfortunately, the first several places we spied down the block, including those offering Hawaiian, Vietnamese, and vegetarian fare, had all fallen prey to the bad economy. We were about to give up and eat a burger at a hopping little mom and pop joint, when we spied Z Tejas, where we haven't eaten in several years because there isn't one near the house and it is a little pricey. As we crossed the street, though, Jeff noticed Robbie Fox's Public House offering Irish fare, so we opted for that instead.
As we looked over our choices, the Irish music seemed to swell and ebb in the restaurant, which had only a few patrons. My son – ever the music aficionado - enjoyed it very much, but even he wished the volume was a little lower. The menu wasn't extensive, but we all found something to our liking. While the drink menu offered an interesting cocktail choice - a cucumber martini - I was told the establishment doesn't serve it anymore. I just hate it when I read a description, make a choice, and can't have what I ordered! Now, I'm considering trying one at home. The menu said the drink has cucumber infused vodka, simple syrup, and fresh cuke slices for garnish. Infusing vodka seems pretty easy. There are many recipes and sets of directions on Foodnetwork.com, and one of my friends at school makes her own Limón cello with fruit from her citrus tree.
After being denied my choice of beverage, I settled for water and ordered today's special - grilled mahi mahi with a cream basil sauce on a bed of spinach and coconut rice. The fish was excellently cooked - tender and moist, falling apart but seared a little on the outside. The basil sauce added a refreshing counterpoint to the smokiness of the grilled fish. However, the fresh spinach was overcooked and the coconut rice didn't really have a lot of flavor. It was slightly sweet, but lacked the distinctive coconut taste making it more like Chinese sticky rice than a flavored side dish.
Jeff opted for the cottage pie (ground beef and vegetables in a mashed potato "crust") - one of his favorites. It arrived in a large ramekin with fluffy mashed potatoes across the top browned to perfection - creamy and lovely. The dish was so hot Jeff found himself blowing on every bite before tasting it. While this selection was good, I found it a little bland. A heavy dose of pepper would have enlivened it some. In addition, Jeff didn't think it had enough veggies in the stew portion. (Can you believe it?) He ate every bite, but requested that I make a better version in the near future. After a fork full of that yummy potato topping, I agree we need to make it at home.
The ragamuffin ordered lasagna with spinach and wild mushrooms. Admittedly, this is not Irish food, however, it was tasty. The filling had plenty of mushrooms and spinach brimming out of the pasta sheets nearly covering the plate. In addition, the tomato base struck a nice balance between acidic and nondescript with plenty of fresh herbs. His dish came with some tossed greens on the side, but no crusty bread to soak up the sauce. After tasting the mahi mahi, I think he wished he had ordered the fish, but his was good and he cleaned up the plate without hesitation.
By the time we were finished with lunch, we were too full for dessert, although the fresh pear tart served warm with vanilla ice cream sounded tempting. (Perhaps we should have skipped the entrees and gone straight for the sweet endings.) Overall, the food at Robbie Fox's was good, but not great. As we left I looked wistfully across the street to Z Tejas and wondered how long it will be before I have another opportunity to eat there.
We went to Mill Avenue, which is the street where all the restaurants, bars, and shops congregate around campus, hoping to find something interesting. Unfortunately, the first several places we spied down the block, including those offering Hawaiian, Vietnamese, and vegetarian fare, had all fallen prey to the bad economy. We were about to give up and eat a burger at a hopping little mom and pop joint, when we spied Z Tejas, where we haven't eaten in several years because there isn't one near the house and it is a little pricey. As we crossed the street, though, Jeff noticed Robbie Fox's Public House offering Irish fare, so we opted for that instead.
As we looked over our choices, the Irish music seemed to swell and ebb in the restaurant, which had only a few patrons. My son – ever the music aficionado - enjoyed it very much, but even he wished the volume was a little lower. The menu wasn't extensive, but we all found something to our liking. While the drink menu offered an interesting cocktail choice - a cucumber martini - I was told the establishment doesn't serve it anymore. I just hate it when I read a description, make a choice, and can't have what I ordered! Now, I'm considering trying one at home. The menu said the drink has cucumber infused vodka, simple syrup, and fresh cuke slices for garnish. Infusing vodka seems pretty easy. There are many recipes and sets of directions on Foodnetwork.com, and one of my friends at school makes her own Limón cello with fruit from her citrus tree.
After being denied my choice of beverage, I settled for water and ordered today's special - grilled mahi mahi with a cream basil sauce on a bed of spinach and coconut rice. The fish was excellently cooked - tender and moist, falling apart but seared a little on the outside. The basil sauce added a refreshing counterpoint to the smokiness of the grilled fish. However, the fresh spinach was overcooked and the coconut rice didn't really have a lot of flavor. It was slightly sweet, but lacked the distinctive coconut taste making it more like Chinese sticky rice than a flavored side dish.
Jeff opted for the cottage pie (ground beef and vegetables in a mashed potato "crust") - one of his favorites. It arrived in a large ramekin with fluffy mashed potatoes across the top browned to perfection - creamy and lovely. The dish was so hot Jeff found himself blowing on every bite before tasting it. While this selection was good, I found it a little bland. A heavy dose of pepper would have enlivened it some. In addition, Jeff didn't think it had enough veggies in the stew portion. (Can you believe it?) He ate every bite, but requested that I make a better version in the near future. After a fork full of that yummy potato topping, I agree we need to make it at home.
The ragamuffin ordered lasagna with spinach and wild mushrooms. Admittedly, this is not Irish food, however, it was tasty. The filling had plenty of mushrooms and spinach brimming out of the pasta sheets nearly covering the plate. In addition, the tomato base struck a nice balance between acidic and nondescript with plenty of fresh herbs. His dish came with some tossed greens on the side, but no crusty bread to soak up the sauce. After tasting the mahi mahi, I think he wished he had ordered the fish, but his was good and he cleaned up the plate without hesitation.
By the time we were finished with lunch, we were too full for dessert, although the fresh pear tart served warm with vanilla ice cream sounded tempting. (Perhaps we should have skipped the entrees and gone straight for the sweet endings.) Overall, the food at Robbie Fox's was good, but not great. As we left I looked wistfully across the street to Z Tejas and wondered how long it will be before I have another opportunity to eat there.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Consolation Pie
Tonight we hit the final show in my birthday ticket series, and the best thing about the whole affair was the pie. Unfortunately, we left the show (The Who's Tommy) at intermission. The singers had intonation and articulation problems, the volume was WAY too loud, and the actors were moving around the stage as if they thought they were doing CATS. It was a sad night, indeed.
Still, by the time we arrived home we had thoroughly panned the show and successfully mocked the singers while strutting through the doorway with melodramatic poise. The good news is we were home an hour earlier than expected and there was a pie waiting on the counter. The bad news is the pie was not the one I planned because the show snuck up on me this week. Previously I had decided to make an ice cream pie, but that was before the work week intervened and the tickets fell on Friday instead of Saturday. So our consolation pie is a Marie Callendar's razzleberry (my favorite) that we picked up for half price a couple of weeks ago and Jeff (thankfully) put in the oven this afternoon. The sweet tart blackberries and raspberries oozing out of a flaky crust taste great with a cold glass of milk.
Dinner was a hodgepodge tonight, as well. The ragamuffin wasn't particularly interested in eating early because he had opted out of tonight's performance in favor of playing a video game with friends. (Apparently he had some premonition of the outcome which he neglected to share with us.) Jeff found orange chicken with veggies and rice in the freezer, but that just didn't trip my trigger. I was in the mood for salty/crunchy, so I combined a can of spicy chili beans, a can of mushrooms, a can of black olives (which I sliced), and some Velveeta. Upon nuking this concoction for a couple of minutes, I had a cheesy, spicy dip fit for some lovely white corn tortilla chips with lime. Mmmm....tasty. Both Jeff and I had leftovers for the boy, which he chowed down later.
Even though we ate different dishes at alternate times and went our separate ways for the evening's entertainment, the end of the night found us together enjoying our traditional pie and laughing over our misadventures. Knowing that no matter where we go or what we do we'll wind up safe at home gives us the strength to do battle with the world every day. Well, that and pie.
Still, by the time we arrived home we had thoroughly panned the show and successfully mocked the singers while strutting through the doorway with melodramatic poise. The good news is we were home an hour earlier than expected and there was a pie waiting on the counter. The bad news is the pie was not the one I planned because the show snuck up on me this week. Previously I had decided to make an ice cream pie, but that was before the work week intervened and the tickets fell on Friday instead of Saturday. So our consolation pie is a Marie Callendar's razzleberry (my favorite) that we picked up for half price a couple of weeks ago and Jeff (thankfully) put in the oven this afternoon. The sweet tart blackberries and raspberries oozing out of a flaky crust taste great with a cold glass of milk.
Dinner was a hodgepodge tonight, as well. The ragamuffin wasn't particularly interested in eating early because he had opted out of tonight's performance in favor of playing a video game with friends. (Apparently he had some premonition of the outcome which he neglected to share with us.) Jeff found orange chicken with veggies and rice in the freezer, but that just didn't trip my trigger. I was in the mood for salty/crunchy, so I combined a can of spicy chili beans, a can of mushrooms, a can of black olives (which I sliced), and some Velveeta. Upon nuking this concoction for a couple of minutes, I had a cheesy, spicy dip fit for some lovely white corn tortilla chips with lime. Mmmm....tasty. Both Jeff and I had leftovers for the boy, which he chowed down later.
Even though we ate different dishes at alternate times and went our separate ways for the evening's entertainment, the end of the night found us together enjoying our traditional pie and laughing over our misadventures. Knowing that no matter where we go or what we do we'll wind up safe at home gives us the strength to do battle with the world every day. Well, that and pie.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Late for Dinner
Now that spring is in full bloom and the sun isn't setting until after 7 p.m., dinner time is getting pushed later and later. This happens to my family every year. We tend to eat our meals based on the sun rather than the clock. This transition begins when we hit fourth quarter at school and the daylight hours make a marked move toward the summer solstice. Breakfast and lunch are still dictated by the clock because we still have to get to work/school and run on a bell schedule. (It's funny that I never really want to punch a time clock on my job, and now my entire day is dictated by hours and minutes tick, tick, ticking by.) By this time of year, the routine runs like a well-oiled machine and we can wolf down a meal in ten minutes flat, which cannot be good for us, but is indeed a fact of life. But dinner brings a reprieve from that hustle-run-gulp schedule.
With longer daylight hours I don't even begin to think about fixing dinner until 6 or 6:30, and the ragamuffin doesn't come in from the park until 7 or 7:15. During the winter, dinner is usually eaten and cleaned by 6 p.m. After all, the early darkness seems to rush the night forward and make me feel like I should be feeding everyone almost as soon as I get home from work. So when spring comes and we start stretching that time out, dinner feels more relaxed. Several times this week we have put the meal together and taken it to the theater for movie time since Jeff and I heard the low down on our son's day long before the meal.
This non-schedule will continue to draw itself out into summer break when we all stay up well into the night and sleep well into the day. It's sort of a defense mechanism of living in the desert. As the heat grows during daylight hours, more and more activities are given over to the darkness. The bright light of a central Arizona July is only fit for watching movies in a cool basement, swimming in a shaded pool, shopping at the mall where the AC is cranked up, and sleeping with room-darkening shades. But, when the sun's rays begin to wane, the neighborhood and our house comes alive. We cook, play games, ride bikes, drive around town with the top down on the convertible, and stay up until 2 or 3 a.m. (A few years ago the entire family even took tennis lessons at night and practiced under the lights until 11 or 12.) So the coming of spring and summer changes us into vampiric night dwellers. If we eat breakfast at all, it's usually around noon. Dinner time seems more like lunch and is often comprised of something cold in the fridge or nuked in the microwave to keep from turning on the stove. We reserve cooking for late nights when the temperature and the electric rates have dropped.
Truthfully, I'm glad to see the hours drawing out. My son spends more time playing ball at the park than playing video games downstairs, and the twilight offers more opportunity for us to ride our bikes through the greenbelts. So, if dinner is a little late or ends up being a fast fix (tonight we had cheese ravioli with some yummy homemade quick bread) that's alright. The season of cold salads and cut up fruit in the fridge is drawing near once again.
With longer daylight hours I don't even begin to think about fixing dinner until 6 or 6:30, and the ragamuffin doesn't come in from the park until 7 or 7:15. During the winter, dinner is usually eaten and cleaned by 6 p.m. After all, the early darkness seems to rush the night forward and make me feel like I should be feeding everyone almost as soon as I get home from work. So when spring comes and we start stretching that time out, dinner feels more relaxed. Several times this week we have put the meal together and taken it to the theater for movie time since Jeff and I heard the low down on our son's day long before the meal.
This non-schedule will continue to draw itself out into summer break when we all stay up well into the night and sleep well into the day. It's sort of a defense mechanism of living in the desert. As the heat grows during daylight hours, more and more activities are given over to the darkness. The bright light of a central Arizona July is only fit for watching movies in a cool basement, swimming in a shaded pool, shopping at the mall where the AC is cranked up, and sleeping with room-darkening shades. But, when the sun's rays begin to wane, the neighborhood and our house comes alive. We cook, play games, ride bikes, drive around town with the top down on the convertible, and stay up until 2 or 3 a.m. (A few years ago the entire family even took tennis lessons at night and practiced under the lights until 11 or 12.) So the coming of spring and summer changes us into vampiric night dwellers. If we eat breakfast at all, it's usually around noon. Dinner time seems more like lunch and is often comprised of something cold in the fridge or nuked in the microwave to keep from turning on the stove. We reserve cooking for late nights when the temperature and the electric rates have dropped.
Truthfully, I'm glad to see the hours drawing out. My son spends more time playing ball at the park than playing video games downstairs, and the twilight offers more opportunity for us to ride our bikes through the greenbelts. So, if dinner is a little late or ends up being a fast fix (tonight we had cheese ravioli with some yummy homemade quick bread) that's alright. The season of cold salads and cut up fruit in the fridge is drawing near once again.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Snip Snip
These days everyone is looking for a bargain, but this morning the news featured a guy who takes the cake. He is a stay-home dad who converted his garage into food storage for his coupon treasures. The two-car space sported two chest freezers and rows of shelving brimming with nonperishables. In the story, the man said that everything in one of the freezers cost him 30 cents or less. (WOW!) How did he accomplish this feat of bargain hunting? First, he buys ten Sunday papers each week for the coupons. Next, he combs through the grocery ads to line up sale prices and coupon discounts. Finally, when something is really cheap, he buys as many as the store will allow.
Of course, this is probably overkill for most of us because of the time involved. Still, I am a coupon clipper who schleps a book full to the store each week. My system entails a cheap photo album and homemade dividers. I have the kind of book that has the clear plastic spaces for two photos on each page. These spaces easily hold a couple of coupons so I can see the product, the discount, and the expiration date at a glance. Next, I cut down some file folders to create tabs which I organized based on my favorite grocery store's layout. This album lies open atop my reusable bags and purse in the grocery cart. As I move through the store, I flip the pages to show items corresponding to the area I'm in. (Thus the book begins with produce and moves through sections like deli, bakery, cheese, meats, baking goods, etc.) I created a folder inside the front cover to hold the coupons I am using on any given trip. Before going to the store each week, I discard any coupons that have expired and add new ones to the book.
On a low coupon trip (when few corresponding items are on sale) I generally have about five dollars worth of discounts. However, many weeks my coupons total 15 to 20 dollars. It helps, too, that Fry's makes all manufacturer's coupons worth one dollar no matter the face value. In addition, since I am a regular customer, the store sends me books of coupons at least once a month. (For example, last week I bought a sugar-cured spiral-sliced ham which was on sale for half price, plus I had a three dollar coupon the store had sent me. Ultimately, I spent seven dollars for a 20-dollar Easter ham.)
In addition, manufacturers seem to like coupons for certain kinds of products. I find I have many drink, dairy, and frozen food coupons, so I always check to see what's on sale. A couple of weeks ago I bought one of those "meal for two" packaged dinners (orange chicken) for a dollar. Pizza coupons are always helpful too, but I've noticed that the manufacturers don't often overlap the sale and the coupon discount. However, Fry's frequently sends me coupons for one or two dollars off frozen pizza. In addition, every three months or so I receive a coupon book for freebies ranging from pizza to eggs to baking items or cheese. Another shopping area that seems to have coupons galore is health products. I have not paid full price for vitamins or supplements in six months. As a matter of fact, Fry's ran buy-one-get-one-free specials several times coupled with two dollar discounts. Thus the 10 dollar vitamins ended up at four dollars a bottle.
Of course, whenever I see prices like these I wonder why I have to pay ten bucks for the item the company can sell for four. I realize that some items are loss leaders, but generally that applies to store brands and local sales. Manufacturer's coupons and sales tend to cover a large region. I think, too, that the sale/coupon prices make me jaded about products. I know the company hopes I'll fall in love with something and buy it at full price, but that just doesn't happen. At the grocery store we buy staples, items needed for any particular plans, and whatever's on sale. Even gum and candy bars are reserved for sales and coupons (which often get them in my cart for 20 cents or less).
All of this coupon clipping and bargain shopping can take some time, but the money saved is pretty substantial. I'm not a pro like the guy on t.v. this morning, but I think coupons help my family eat well and feel spoiled while keeping our grocery bill reasonable.
Of course, this is probably overkill for most of us because of the time involved. Still, I am a coupon clipper who schleps a book full to the store each week. My system entails a cheap photo album and homemade dividers. I have the kind of book that has the clear plastic spaces for two photos on each page. These spaces easily hold a couple of coupons so I can see the product, the discount, and the expiration date at a glance. Next, I cut down some file folders to create tabs which I organized based on my favorite grocery store's layout. This album lies open atop my reusable bags and purse in the grocery cart. As I move through the store, I flip the pages to show items corresponding to the area I'm in. (Thus the book begins with produce and moves through sections like deli, bakery, cheese, meats, baking goods, etc.) I created a folder inside the front cover to hold the coupons I am using on any given trip. Before going to the store each week, I discard any coupons that have expired and add new ones to the book.
On a low coupon trip (when few corresponding items are on sale) I generally have about five dollars worth of discounts. However, many weeks my coupons total 15 to 20 dollars. It helps, too, that Fry's makes all manufacturer's coupons worth one dollar no matter the face value. In addition, since I am a regular customer, the store sends me books of coupons at least once a month. (For example, last week I bought a sugar-cured spiral-sliced ham which was on sale for half price, plus I had a three dollar coupon the store had sent me. Ultimately, I spent seven dollars for a 20-dollar Easter ham.)
In addition, manufacturers seem to like coupons for certain kinds of products. I find I have many drink, dairy, and frozen food coupons, so I always check to see what's on sale. A couple of weeks ago I bought one of those "meal for two" packaged dinners (orange chicken) for a dollar. Pizza coupons are always helpful too, but I've noticed that the manufacturers don't often overlap the sale and the coupon discount. However, Fry's frequently sends me coupons for one or two dollars off frozen pizza. In addition, every three months or so I receive a coupon book for freebies ranging from pizza to eggs to baking items or cheese. Another shopping area that seems to have coupons galore is health products. I have not paid full price for vitamins or supplements in six months. As a matter of fact, Fry's ran buy-one-get-one-free specials several times coupled with two dollar discounts. Thus the 10 dollar vitamins ended up at four dollars a bottle.
Of course, whenever I see prices like these I wonder why I have to pay ten bucks for the item the company can sell for four. I realize that some items are loss leaders, but generally that applies to store brands and local sales. Manufacturer's coupons and sales tend to cover a large region. I think, too, that the sale/coupon prices make me jaded about products. I know the company hopes I'll fall in love with something and buy it at full price, but that just doesn't happen. At the grocery store we buy staples, items needed for any particular plans, and whatever's on sale. Even gum and candy bars are reserved for sales and coupons (which often get them in my cart for 20 cents or less).
All of this coupon clipping and bargain shopping can take some time, but the money saved is pretty substantial. I'm not a pro like the guy on t.v. this morning, but I think coupons help my family eat well and feel spoiled while keeping our grocery bill reasonable.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Onion Ring Obit
Sonic's claim to food fame is the onion ring, and today (for the first time ever) I had a bad batch. This is no small statement considering how many of these onion rings I've eaten. When I was a teenager, my parents owned a Sonic Drive-In franchise where I worked as a roller skating car hop. This job meant roller disco across the parking lot when business was slow, 64 ounce drinks tossed into the air when skate wheels came to a sudden stop because someone threw a piece of candy on the ground, and spending prep hours making onion rings. One of my jobs early in the shift was to help my mom peel, slice, and ring fifty pounds of onions. (By the way, she did this daily, while I was only subject to weekends and summers.) These rings were then dropped into a tub of ice-cold water which began the assembly line process. From the water, the rings went into a tub of flour, a tub of shake mix (which had just come out of the walk-in fridge at a finger-numbing 40 degrees), and finally a tub of crumbs for the outer coating. The prepped rings were placed in tight, neat rows on plastic trays which were stored in the cooler until they were dropped into the fryer. This process produces the best onion rings known to man. They are crispy and golden on the outside with full slices of real onion goodness on the inside. The shake mix adds a touch of sweetness to the coating and balances out the oil. They don't need salt, pepper, or ketchup. Piping hot rings go into a waxy paper bag and out to a waiting car as each order is filled on request.
Today, though, was a different story. When my rings arrived for an after school snack before running errands, they were not the perfect onion munchy I have known, loved, and eaten for three decades. To begin with, my bag of goodies was only about three quarters full, instead of the brimming cornucopia I have come to expect. In addition, they were old. The warmth emanating from them was that of a heat lamp, not a dip in the restaurant's fryer. The onions were chewy and the coating had lost its crunch. I ate them in dismay, hoping to discover that the first ring was a fluke. A few were better along the way as if a new order and an old order had been mixed and sent out. The disappointment was so crushing I decided I'd just have to make my own from now on.
I have done this before when we lived in small towns that didn't sport a Sonic to feed my habit. Along the way I have discovered that melted vanilla ice cream is a good substitute for shake mix (which is merely a liquid base poured into an ice cream machine for stirring and freezing). In addition, I use the plain packaged bread crumbs for my final coating because I like the fine texture. Lately I have considered trying Panko crumbs for extra crispiness, but I can't bring myself to stray from the tried and true.
I suppose I should count this as yet another lesson on the waste of eating out. While my desire for Sonic onion rings may be dying, my general craving was not sated. So, if I can find some vanilla ice cream in the freezer, tomorrow will be a feast!
Today, though, was a different story. When my rings arrived for an after school snack before running errands, they were not the perfect onion munchy I have known, loved, and eaten for three decades. To begin with, my bag of goodies was only about three quarters full, instead of the brimming cornucopia I have come to expect. In addition, they were old. The warmth emanating from them was that of a heat lamp, not a dip in the restaurant's fryer. The onions were chewy and the coating had lost its crunch. I ate them in dismay, hoping to discover that the first ring was a fluke. A few were better along the way as if a new order and an old order had been mixed and sent out. The disappointment was so crushing I decided I'd just have to make my own from now on.
I have done this before when we lived in small towns that didn't sport a Sonic to feed my habit. Along the way I have discovered that melted vanilla ice cream is a good substitute for shake mix (which is merely a liquid base poured into an ice cream machine for stirring and freezing). In addition, I use the plain packaged bread crumbs for my final coating because I like the fine texture. Lately I have considered trying Panko crumbs for extra crispiness, but I can't bring myself to stray from the tried and true.
I suppose I should count this as yet another lesson on the waste of eating out. While my desire for Sonic onion rings may be dying, my general craving was not sated. So, if I can find some vanilla ice cream in the freezer, tomorrow will be a feast!
Monday, April 5, 2010
Time to Fess Up
Saturday, alas, I fell down on the job by not writing a blog entry. (Woe is me!) I have learned a lot about offering up interesting excuses from my high school students.
"My dog didn't eat my homework, but my four-year-old brother scribbled on it with black crayon. No, I didn't bring it to show you. Don't you believe me?"
"My mom wouldn't let me do it because I had to play Scrabble with her. I brought a note." (Yes, there was a note. No, I don't believe his mom wrote it.)
"My dog ate a ping pong ball and we had to rush him to the pet emergency room." (O.K., being a sucker for animals I thought this was at least plausible until the kid kept using his dog as an excuse. Eventually, his mom e-mailed me about the boy's grade and I explained I had given him some extra time for the first assignment, but not later ones because I had grown suspicious. She informed me that the family didn't have a dog.)
"I broke my arm and couldn't write." (Now, you'd think a kid wouldn't say this to me if he wasn't wearing a cast - but, you'd be wrong.)
"My dad died last night." (Of course, I responded with heartfelt sympathy and amid tears welling in my eyes asked why the student was even at school.) "Well, I haven't seen or spoken to him since I was three so my mom didn't think it was that big of a deal." (No joke.)
Suffice it to say that any excuse I have for not writing Saturday night will not measure up to the creativity of teenagers, so I won't even bother trying. However, Saturday's topic is one I still want to visit because we ate out. (Can you say "cheat"? I thought you could.) There is a local Chinese establishment that is a contradiction wrapped up in an enigma. First, it is situated in a small strip mall in downtown Queen Creek (read this with tongue firmly planted in cheek). It rests between a storefront offering Karate lessons and a nail salon. Each shop has full size glass windows across the front that allow a complete view of the interior, and most have special deals splashed across the glass in neon window paint. The entire set of shops is about four years old and looks like a million other small real estate developments across the country. Upon walking into this family-run restaurant, customers are greeted by a huge circular tray ceiling and the kind of crystal chandelier reserved for starlight dances in the Rainbow Room. Below all this elegance sits the ordinary black tables, chairs, and booths found in every cliché of a Chinese eatery complete with paper placemats sporting information on the Chinese zodiac. (I'm a snake, in case you're curious.)
The service is just as contradictory as the atmosphere. Some days the owner-operators are friendly and cheerful, and some days they're not. (They're never rude, just more or less helpful.) In addition, several of the family members speak better English than others, so they often exchange more pleasantries with customers. One thing that is always certain, though, is the food. (The prices aren't too shabby either with daily lunch specials - any entree plus rice, soup, spring roll, and fried wonton - for $5.95.) On Saturday the guys and I opted for three types of chicken - honey, orange, and lemon - agreeing to share the yumminess. The lemon chicken was sweet and tangy, while the orange chicken had a nice bite. The honey chicken, contrary to its name, was the spiciest of all with plenty of those gorgeous deep red peppers strewn through the dish. Jeff, who is not a fan of hot foods, decided the orange and honey chicken were too fiery for his taste, but not before the Ragamuffin and I got to have a few bites of the sweet lemon sauce on his plate.
Ultimately, we all left happy and stuffed for a good price ($24 for the three of us including the meal, drinks, tax, and tip). It was a guilty pleasure worth every penny and tonight's confession.
"My dog didn't eat my homework, but my four-year-old brother scribbled on it with black crayon. No, I didn't bring it to show you. Don't you believe me?"
"My mom wouldn't let me do it because I had to play Scrabble with her. I brought a note." (Yes, there was a note. No, I don't believe his mom wrote it.)
"My dog ate a ping pong ball and we had to rush him to the pet emergency room." (O.K., being a sucker for animals I thought this was at least plausible until the kid kept using his dog as an excuse. Eventually, his mom e-mailed me about the boy's grade and I explained I had given him some extra time for the first assignment, but not later ones because I had grown suspicious. She informed me that the family didn't have a dog.)
"I broke my arm and couldn't write." (Now, you'd think a kid wouldn't say this to me if he wasn't wearing a cast - but, you'd be wrong.)
"My dad died last night." (Of course, I responded with heartfelt sympathy and amid tears welling in my eyes asked why the student was even at school.) "Well, I haven't seen or spoken to him since I was three so my mom didn't think it was that big of a deal." (No joke.)
Suffice it to say that any excuse I have for not writing Saturday night will not measure up to the creativity of teenagers, so I won't even bother trying. However, Saturday's topic is one I still want to visit because we ate out. (Can you say "cheat"? I thought you could.) There is a local Chinese establishment that is a contradiction wrapped up in an enigma. First, it is situated in a small strip mall in downtown Queen Creek (read this with tongue firmly planted in cheek). It rests between a storefront offering Karate lessons and a nail salon. Each shop has full size glass windows across the front that allow a complete view of the interior, and most have special deals splashed across the glass in neon window paint. The entire set of shops is about four years old and looks like a million other small real estate developments across the country. Upon walking into this family-run restaurant, customers are greeted by a huge circular tray ceiling and the kind of crystal chandelier reserved for starlight dances in the Rainbow Room. Below all this elegance sits the ordinary black tables, chairs, and booths found in every cliché of a Chinese eatery complete with paper placemats sporting information on the Chinese zodiac. (I'm a snake, in case you're curious.)
The service is just as contradictory as the atmosphere. Some days the owner-operators are friendly and cheerful, and some days they're not. (They're never rude, just more or less helpful.) In addition, several of the family members speak better English than others, so they often exchange more pleasantries with customers. One thing that is always certain, though, is the food. (The prices aren't too shabby either with daily lunch specials - any entree plus rice, soup, spring roll, and fried wonton - for $5.95.) On Saturday the guys and I opted for three types of chicken - honey, orange, and lemon - agreeing to share the yumminess. The lemon chicken was sweet and tangy, while the orange chicken had a nice bite. The honey chicken, contrary to its name, was the spiciest of all with plenty of those gorgeous deep red peppers strewn through the dish. Jeff, who is not a fan of hot foods, decided the orange and honey chicken were too fiery for his taste, but not before the Ragamuffin and I got to have a few bites of the sweet lemon sauce on his plate.
Ultimately, we all left happy and stuffed for a good price ($24 for the three of us including the meal, drinks, tax, and tip). It was a guilty pleasure worth every penny and tonight's confession.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Sunday Dinner
The long-anticipated day finally arrived on which I did not have to plan, cook, or clean-up a holiday meal. Somewhere happiness must be defined by this set of circumstances.
When we arrived at Jeff's parents' house at noon, we were greeted with a table set with cheerful red and white plates and a vase of Easter flowers compliments of Ingrid's sister, Geli. The counter was already laid out with veggies, chips, and dips to be snacked upon while Allen (a.k.a. the grill master) coaxed along five of the biggest steaks I've ever seen. And, of course, a glass of wine was proffered almost upon walking through the door. (No wonder I like eating there!) Though, Allen did comment that someone might have to call the food police since we were drinking white wine with beef, but alas rules are made to be broken.
After grazing on the counter goodies, we sat down to a lovely dinner of juicy steaks with mashed sweet potatoes, macaroni and cheese, broccoli with cheese sauce, rolls, and Georgia caviar. The final dish was prepared especially for me and included black-eyed peas, three colors of finely-diced bell peppers, diced red onion, corn kernels, tomatoes, and green chilies. It was a wonderful salad - fresh, colorful, and tasty. The bell peppers and onions gave it a light crunch that contrasted nicely with the softer peas, corn, and tomatoes. The green chilies gave it just enough bite to make it interesting. Luckily for me, the recipe made a huge bowl, and I got to bring some home for lunch tomorrow!
Following all the goodness of this large meal, we had a beautiful lemon-raspberry cake which consisted of two layers of pound cake enveloped in a whipped lemon frosting. Raspberry filling separated the cake layers and adorned a channel around the top of the pastry which had a few fresh raspberries and candy ribbons in the center. It was light and fruity, bringing the meal to a lovely end.
Of course, since we were all so stuffed, we had to hang out and talk for awhile while my son (to whom I can no longer refer as 6'2" and shaggy since he had his hair cut off yesterday) serenaded the family with his guitar. All in all, the food was delicious, the music was good, the conversation was entertaining, and it was a day well-spent in the warm embrace of family.
When we arrived at Jeff's parents' house at noon, we were greeted with a table set with cheerful red and white plates and a vase of Easter flowers compliments of Ingrid's sister, Geli. The counter was already laid out with veggies, chips, and dips to be snacked upon while Allen (a.k.a. the grill master) coaxed along five of the biggest steaks I've ever seen. And, of course, a glass of wine was proffered almost upon walking through the door. (No wonder I like eating there!) Though, Allen did comment that someone might have to call the food police since we were drinking white wine with beef, but alas rules are made to be broken.
After grazing on the counter goodies, we sat down to a lovely dinner of juicy steaks with mashed sweet potatoes, macaroni and cheese, broccoli with cheese sauce, rolls, and Georgia caviar. The final dish was prepared especially for me and included black-eyed peas, three colors of finely-diced bell peppers, diced red onion, corn kernels, tomatoes, and green chilies. It was a wonderful salad - fresh, colorful, and tasty. The bell peppers and onions gave it a light crunch that contrasted nicely with the softer peas, corn, and tomatoes. The green chilies gave it just enough bite to make it interesting. Luckily for me, the recipe made a huge bowl, and I got to bring some home for lunch tomorrow!
Following all the goodness of this large meal, we had a beautiful lemon-raspberry cake which consisted of two layers of pound cake enveloped in a whipped lemon frosting. Raspberry filling separated the cake layers and adorned a channel around the top of the pastry which had a few fresh raspberries and candy ribbons in the center. It was light and fruity, bringing the meal to a lovely end.
Of course, since we were all so stuffed, we had to hang out and talk for awhile while my son (to whom I can no longer refer as 6'2" and shaggy since he had his hair cut off yesterday) serenaded the family with his guitar. All in all, the food was delicious, the music was good, the conversation was entertaining, and it was a day well-spent in the warm embrace of family.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Tray Chic
When did TV trays fall out favor? Do you remember? They used to come in a set of four with their own little stand that you could place against the wall in the living room or perhaps slide into a closet (presuming it was fairly empty). Ours had a parquet wood-look veneer for easy cleaning. (I also recall a set with black tin tops and roses printed in the middle, but I'm not sure who owned them.) My brother and I would rejoice on nights we broke out the TV trays. I don't know why eating in the living room was such a big deal. My mom never banned us from taking food out of the kitchen, unlike many of my friends. I actually had one friend whose mom wouldn't even let the kids have a glass of water outside of the kitchen. She had clear plastic covers on the couch and on the car seats, too. I could understand she didn't want the carpet or furniture stained, but that seemed like overkill to me. When my friend spent the night at our house, she was amazed that we could take cookies and Kool-Aid to my room, and when I stayed with her, I thought I'd die of thirst without some ice water to sip in the middle of the night. Come to think of it, her mom made us go to bed pretty early too, while my mom let us stay up and watch Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, but I digress.
The thing about TV trays is they'd come in handy these days when so many people eat in front of the boob tube. I'm not advocating this practice, but it would be nice to have some place to put a drink, some chips, and a dip bowl during movies. After all, coffee tables aren't what they used to be. Now they're multipurpose ottomans which are good for just about everything except setting down a glass.
I'm sure TV. trays are still available, but I don't see anyone using them. Do people hide them when company arrives? I suppose I would, too. I can't imagine my friends lounging about with a pre-dinner cocktail in hand and appetizers strewn across TV trays. Somehow these 70's holdovers just wouldn't contribute to the appropriate atmosphere. Still, I might buy a set to hide if I found some that matched our television room. Now there's a concept - buying something that matches your decor knowing you're going to hide it if anyone comes over. I suppose the trays have to match just in case someone sees them. What if my friends from school were to stop by only to find a bright orange and white University of Tennessee tray sitting next to my red microfiber velvet theater chair? That just wouldn't do. The tray would definitely have to blend in at least a little bit. (Besides, if I bought UT trays, Jeff would probably want an ASU set as well, and who needs eight of those things?) In the meantime, I guess we'll have to stick with plates in our laps, glasses in our hands, and eating dinner at the table.
The thing about TV trays is they'd come in handy these days when so many people eat in front of the boob tube. I'm not advocating this practice, but it would be nice to have some place to put a drink, some chips, and a dip bowl during movies. After all, coffee tables aren't what they used to be. Now they're multipurpose ottomans which are good for just about everything except setting down a glass.
I'm sure TV. trays are still available, but I don't see anyone using them. Do people hide them when company arrives? I suppose I would, too. I can't imagine my friends lounging about with a pre-dinner cocktail in hand and appetizers strewn across TV trays. Somehow these 70's holdovers just wouldn't contribute to the appropriate atmosphere. Still, I might buy a set to hide if I found some that matched our television room. Now there's a concept - buying something that matches your decor knowing you're going to hide it if anyone comes over. I suppose the trays have to match just in case someone sees them. What if my friends from school were to stop by only to find a bright orange and white University of Tennessee tray sitting next to my red microfiber velvet theater chair? That just wouldn't do. The tray would definitely have to blend in at least a little bit. (Besides, if I bought UT trays, Jeff would probably want an ASU set as well, and who needs eight of those things?) In the meantime, I guess we'll have to stick with plates in our laps, glasses in our hands, and eating dinner at the table.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Easter "Hoppiness"
With Easter weekend upon us my kitchen feels empty. My mother-in-law has invited us to Easter dinner on Sunday, so I don't have to plan and cook a feast. (That's her job, this year!) School has been hectic, so I did not dig through the boxes under the stairs to find my Easter tree (the one the cats always knock all the little ornaments off of and use for hockey pucks). Neither have I pulled out the spring silk flowers to replace the winter ones in the vases on my mantle. My son – a.k.a. six foot two and shaggy – has not colored eggs for several years now. (As a matter of fact, the basket went away altogether when I bought him a chocolate bunny and a CD for Easter 2007.) Thus, I am considering decorating eggs, making a bunny cake, and coloring "placemats" on my own. What's a mom to do? After all, one of the best things about having kids is getting to participate in all the holiday rituals with them. Then they get too old (and too cool) for the whole thing and crafty moms are left without an excuse to decorate.
Just for kicks (not), I looked up Easter crafts yesterday hunting for something fun to play with. I came across directions for Ukrainian-style Easter eggs that have intricate designs made with a wax resist technique. The eggs are dipped in progressively darker colors beginning with yellow and moving through a rainbow and ending in black. To finish, the wax is gently melted revealing all the layers of color. These eggs were then drilled, blown and shellacked for posterity. While they looked fabulous, I'm afraid they exceeded my artistic ability and time constraints. In addition, I'm pretty sure my beloved feline squad would assume these shiny, labor-intensive creations were meant solely for their entertainment. (If you think those cats just walk all over me, rest assured they do - especially at 3 a.m. when I'm dead to the world and they want to play.)
Another possibility presented itself in decoupaged eggs. This one is actually a possibility since I have enough talent to cut out pretty flowers and springy pictures to apply to empty egg shells. While these, too, would probably meet an ill-fated end at the paws of my babies, they might fare better since the paper and glue will give the egg some stability. In addition, they will not be as difficult or time consuming to create. The website I looked at had ribbon running through the eggs with little tassels at the bottom. The eggs were then hung on a tree branch that had been scavenged from the yard, painted white, and planted in a pale yellow bucket filled with sand. How springy! I'll probably just toss mine in a glass bowl and see how long it takes for them to disappear under the furniture! (I could probably save some time and effort by using nail polish to decorate ping pong balls.)
In addition to eggs, Easter calls for some kind of baked good. Aside from a prefab bunny shaped pan, there are a myriad of directions available for bunny and other Easter-themed cupcakes, many of which include coconut to create the "fur." Since Jeff has pronounced coconut as "the devil's nut," and our son has nodded his acceptance of this fallacy, I generally do not make anything from it knowing no one will eat it but me. Really, what's the fun of making something yummy that no one else wants? It just saps the joy out of the labor. So, it's probably time for some rolled vanilla sugar cookies plied with Easter shaped cookie cutters. (Whenever I mention making rolled cookies at work, someone comments that they are only for Christmas. However, at the yuletide I always make spicy ginger cookies and save the lovely white sugar crisps for spring.) It seems to me that egg shaped cookies offer the most opportunity for decoration. I like to ice them all with a coating of white frosting and then go back to add stripes, polka dots, or little stars in pale pink, yellow, green, and blue. When it comes to decorating cookies, my son is always ready to "help." Of course, his idea of helping is creating the strangest designs known to man. For example, last Christmas I cut out several gingerbread men for him to decorate, and was presented a war zone filled with monsters and zombies. The bright holly green became Frankenstein-like faces and the berry red was laced across broken off hands and feet. (My son's really not as disturbed as he sounds, but he does have the warped sense of humor that runs in our family. Someday I’ll tell you about my brother’s fun-with-foil escapades. ) Thus, I am hesitant to hand over any eggs, bunnies, or chicks for his maniacal application of icing (yet, we all know I will because I'm really a pushover.)
To finish my holiday decorations I downloaded some coloring pages filled with Easter bonnets, lavish eggs, dancing bunnies, and trite sayings like "Hoppy Easter." These will become our placemats for the weekend when colored and covered with clear contact paper, which I stock in my craft closet for school projects. I know it's silly, but when work becomes stressful and demanding, the best balm I know is to spend some time acting like a kid again. These projects - especially the pretty cookies - will perk up the weekend and my kitchen in no time. Happy Easter!
Just for kicks (not), I looked up Easter crafts yesterday hunting for something fun to play with. I came across directions for Ukrainian-style Easter eggs that have intricate designs made with a wax resist technique. The eggs are dipped in progressively darker colors beginning with yellow and moving through a rainbow and ending in black. To finish, the wax is gently melted revealing all the layers of color. These eggs were then drilled, blown and shellacked for posterity. While they looked fabulous, I'm afraid they exceeded my artistic ability and time constraints. In addition, I'm pretty sure my beloved feline squad would assume these shiny, labor-intensive creations were meant solely for their entertainment. (If you think those cats just walk all over me, rest assured they do - especially at 3 a.m. when I'm dead to the world and they want to play.)
Another possibility presented itself in decoupaged eggs. This one is actually a possibility since I have enough talent to cut out pretty flowers and springy pictures to apply to empty egg shells. While these, too, would probably meet an ill-fated end at the paws of my babies, they might fare better since the paper and glue will give the egg some stability. In addition, they will not be as difficult or time consuming to create. The website I looked at had ribbon running through the eggs with little tassels at the bottom. The eggs were then hung on a tree branch that had been scavenged from the yard, painted white, and planted in a pale yellow bucket filled with sand. How springy! I'll probably just toss mine in a glass bowl and see how long it takes for them to disappear under the furniture! (I could probably save some time and effort by using nail polish to decorate ping pong balls.)
In addition to eggs, Easter calls for some kind of baked good. Aside from a prefab bunny shaped pan, there are a myriad of directions available for bunny and other Easter-themed cupcakes, many of which include coconut to create the "fur." Since Jeff has pronounced coconut as "the devil's nut," and our son has nodded his acceptance of this fallacy, I generally do not make anything from it knowing no one will eat it but me. Really, what's the fun of making something yummy that no one else wants? It just saps the joy out of the labor. So, it's probably time for some rolled vanilla sugar cookies plied with Easter shaped cookie cutters. (Whenever I mention making rolled cookies at work, someone comments that they are only for Christmas. However, at the yuletide I always make spicy ginger cookies and save the lovely white sugar crisps for spring.) It seems to me that egg shaped cookies offer the most opportunity for decoration. I like to ice them all with a coating of white frosting and then go back to add stripes, polka dots, or little stars in pale pink, yellow, green, and blue. When it comes to decorating cookies, my son is always ready to "help." Of course, his idea of helping is creating the strangest designs known to man. For example, last Christmas I cut out several gingerbread men for him to decorate, and was presented a war zone filled with monsters and zombies. The bright holly green became Frankenstein-like faces and the berry red was laced across broken off hands and feet. (My son's really not as disturbed as he sounds, but he does have the warped sense of humor that runs in our family. Someday I’ll tell you about my brother’s fun-with-foil escapades. ) Thus, I am hesitant to hand over any eggs, bunnies, or chicks for his maniacal application of icing (yet, we all know I will because I'm really a pushover.)
To finish my holiday decorations I downloaded some coloring pages filled with Easter bonnets, lavish eggs, dancing bunnies, and trite sayings like "Hoppy Easter." These will become our placemats for the weekend when colored and covered with clear contact paper, which I stock in my craft closet for school projects. I know it's silly, but when work becomes stressful and demanding, the best balm I know is to spend some time acting like a kid again. These projects - especially the pretty cookies - will perk up the weekend and my kitchen in no time. Happy Easter!
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