Photo op

I have gone and added photos to the blog.

I wasn’t going to. After all, I wanted it to be about the writing and the food. And there are so many food blogs that do that step-by-step pic of each dish.

I want to stand out from the rest.

But now that I’m taking so many photos for each food story I’m doing, I thought I might as well throw some on up here too.

I hope you enjoy them.

One things for sure – if my writing doesn’t make you hungry, the photos will.

Pining away

It’s not that my kitchen is so great.  It’s narrow and there’s little to no counter space and our stove is wonky and the fridge and freezer are too small.

But it’s mine and it’s mostly functional. and I miss it dearly.

See in this immense heat, it has become a place that I go only to get cold drink after cold drink and in the late evening, take out some salad or cold chicken to eat because really, you’ve got to eat something.

I miss the serenity cooking gives me.  Even when things are going badly with a dish, there is always hope that it can be saved.  I love the zen mind that happens when I’m chopping, stirring and whisking.  It’s like waves lapping against the shore.  It’s peace and quiet.  Mostly, anyway.

It is only the beginning of July and it’s been weeks of such intense heat, even my appetite has faltered (good lord, will it never end?).  I am trying to accept that it’s just too hot to cook and enjoy restaurant fare for my food book clubs and restaurant reviews.  I am trying to enjoy the “extra” time that I have now that I’m not in the kitchen for 2-4 hours a night.  I am trying really, really hard.

But it’s not working.

I guess that’s how I know it’s serious, that it’s complete and utter love, that it’s something that while I can live without it now, I can’t live without it forever.

Once that cool weather hits, you’ll be lucky to find me doing anything else.  I’ve got lists in my mind of dishes I want to conquer, pies I want to try and bake and meals that I want to create to sell to a nearby cafe.

And for now, I will try to be patient while the sun pours in our windows, heating up the joint and giving our cat various placed to sprawl until 9 p.m.  I will begrudgingly have salads and sandwiches and cold chicken (pictured above) for dinner as sweat pools in the crease of my arm.

But I’m telling you, that first hit of crisp, cool air – the place is going to be stacked to the ceiling with homemade food.

Just try and stop me.

Balls!

So excited to be cooking again last night, I went for a walk to think through what I’d make.

Do you ever get so wrapped up in something that you can’t see your way out?  I was all over the place – minestrone soup, empanadas, homemade pizza, baked trout, keftas over quinoa salad.  I had looked through some cookbooks before heading out to get some ideas, but went to some fine food stores for further inspiration.

Thinking about how much fresh food I had in the fridge, I bought only an apple to eat on my way back, some sesame flatbreads to snack on throughout the week, some muffins for my fella and some pasta for either pasta salad (in case I just made a bunch of cold salads – it was almost too hot to cook) or to keep on hand for a baked pasta dish I had yet to try.

Since I had many of the ingredients on hand, I came back and decided to make Southern Sausage Stew from Jamie’s America, Jamie Oliver’s latest cookbook.

I loved Jamie when he was first starting out – his take on everything was so invigorating and refreshing.  But these last few cookbooks, I’ve found little to get excited about.  This stew sounded good though.

But after looking at it closely, I decided that some of my own additions would make it even better.

Instead of green and red peppers, I used yellow and purple carrots and I added in a Chinese eggplant, portobello mushrooms, black beans, leftover kale from the night before, along with the ingredients and spices he listed.

I have to say it turned out beautifully.

My dessert however, did not.

Having worked on this dessert for two night and many stages, I can’t believe that the part I couldn’t do was melting the chocolate.

As you know, I do not bake, so anytime anything calls for chocolate, I get nervous.  I mean, I barely eat it to begin with, so handling it doesn’t inspire confidence in me like working with any savory ingredient.

I was making surprise Cake Balls for my fella.  I had made an orange cake and left it in the fridge overnight so that it would be cold enough to form into big meatball size balls.

Done.  B-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l.

I simmered water in a pan and melted really good chocolate over it.

Good.

Now all I had to do was dip the balls into the chocolate and cover them, put them on wax paper and set back into the fridge to chill.

My sexy beau would be having delicious orange delights in just about an hour or two.

Except that the chocolate was so thick it didn’t really cover the ball, but swathed thickly around it, pulling it down into the chocolate.

F————————————–!

Then, I did the worst thing I could possible do – I added a little water to try and thin it out.

I don’t know these things.  I’ve baked about 10 times out of my life, so I didn’t realize this would create an immovable fudge!

I tried adding a little milk to further thin it.  Now I had a Dairy Queen Blizzard on my hands.

So I tried to save it by putting it in the microwave to melt it at least enough that I could hand form it around the balls.

Three fingers on my right hand have chocolate second degree burns and my wonderful little Cake Balls that I wanted to surprise the love of my life with now look like Tim Bits with sad melted fudge chunks on the top.

I was feeling really cocky earlier in the evening, because I thought my version of the stew was more Southern and creative than Jamie’s.

He must have heard me.

I think it will be awhile before I get the confidence to bake again (and I didn’t have any to begin with, so now I’m starting at like negative 10 or something).

Great.  And I just ordered 10 new baking books from the library…

Surprises abound

What I love about cooking is that you don’t always get it right.

But sometimes you absolutely do.

That beef curry was fanfreakintastic.  Best beef dish I’ve made in years.  YEARS.

I learned two vital things that night:

1.  My method of cooking stewing beef for only an hour and a half is why my stews are never memorable.

2.  Cooking Light Magazine has a piece a couple of months ago about The 25 Most Common Cooking Mistakes that offered a lot of advice I already knew but one that really stuck out – You don’t know your oven’s quirks and idiosyncrasies.

See, a couple of months ago, my sexy fella and I were making dinner together (something that doesn’t happen very often because we both cook very differently and because there’s not a heckuva lot of room to move around one another).  We were making Korean pancakes – MMM! – and I was pouring them into the pan while he flipped them (you’ve got to be quick with those l’il ones) and we noticed that they would slowly cook on 7 but once we upped the element to 8, they started to burn.

We had noticed inconsistencies separately before but not thought much of them – ’til now.

Which I confirmed when I made Beef Vindaloo Curry this past Friday night.

Wanting to brown the beef before adding the other ingredients (did you know that Jamie Oliver no longer believes/does this?  Gasp), I started it on 8 to get a nice seared side, but before I knew it they were blackening.  Oh no, I’ve got like 8 veggies and 5 other ingredients yet to add!  It can’t be ruined already!

I managed to save them by quickly turning the range down, and then up.  Down and then up again, until all the beef was done.

I thought that ordeal was over as I set everything to a low simmer.

Hmmm.  When I turned the dial down to 3 – nothing.  It wasn’t until I brought it back up to 6 that it started bubbling.  So back down to 3 it went.  I left it to stew, literally, while I went back to my desk to do work.

I heard this weird popping noise.  Now, sometimes Cosmo likes to clean between his toes and makes this awesome crunching sound, but he was sound asleep just a few feet away at the end of the bed.

I went out to the kitchen and the stew was bubbling away like it was on 6 or 7.  So I turned it down to 2.  15 minutes later, nothing.

It went on like this for the 2 1/2 hours that it was on the stove.

Our stove is not just quirky.  It’s possessed.

At first, I was miffed.  Great, here I am trying to learn to be a great chef and I’m working with an old jalopy!  But now I realize that if I can cook great meals on this puppy despite its massive weirdness, then I will be a great chef after all.

The roast chicken dinner I made tonight was okay.  The sides were what made it – summer crisp corn, wild and long grain rice and Swiss chard with petit haricots.

That chicken could have been better.

That’s why I’m going to work on figuring out the oven’s quirks next.

Burning questions

I have all of these questions that have been milling about in my mind:

1.  Do you favour a particular burner on the stove?

2.  A food blog asked a great question this week – is there a food that you can’t keep in the house because it’s bad for you or you’ll eat the whole container, etc.?

3. What’s the last exciting dish you made?

4.  How far in advance do you plan your meals?

5.  What’s the last thing you ate?

I can’t wait to hear your thoughts.

Totally baked

I do not bake.

Firstly, because it is such a scientific, specific craft and while I like to do a good job, I am not a perfectionist – it’s not like cooking, where I am comfortable and I can improvise at any point in the dish.

Secondly, I don’t have a sweet tooth, so it is impossible for me to gauge how cookies, cakes, tarts and pies should be.

However, yesterday I made Diablo Cupcakes, a Mexican chocolate version that is just a little spicy.  And not only did I make them, I took them to a fancy dinner party a couple of hours later.

What was I thinking?

I was sooo nervous.  Here I was, not only baking, but imposing my bad skills on folks that I like and care about.

Normally I would make a side dish, salad or something savory and in my comfort zone.  I guess all of this cooking madness went to my head and suddenly I thought I could do anything.

It’s impossible to tell how people felt about them because no one is going to stand up, cast their plate across the room and yell, “Drivel!” (unless Gordon Ramsay is a guest)  My fella of course said they were good, which prompted a bunch of “uh huhs” and “oh yeahs.”

No one threw up and they didn’t have to be thrown in the trash, so I feel I did all right.

I am glad just to be making dinner tonight.  I know my way around anything supperish.  I am solid ground.

Until, that is, it’s someone’s birthday and I get the bright idea to make the cake.