zen temple dumplings

Easy recipe. I wanted something light and different than my usual weekday fair, and these were really an excellent choice. I had to borrow my parents' food processor because the mini-prep is just too small for this one, and I didn't think the blender would be up to the seriously massive stalks of asparagus I bought this week. (These were mutantly huge asparagus. I feared their heartiness.)

This is another Cooking Light recipe, from their April '07 issue, and the full recipe can be found here.

Making the filling:


Filling the filling:


For the steamer:


And on my plate:


Now realizing that it doesn't look so fantastic, but with the soy/rice vinegar/sesame oil/scallion sauce (those green blobbies are scallions), it was really good. The filling had a good bite to it, with the ginger, and the consistency was smooth. It tasted very much the way a spring meal should taste, and I liked that it wasn't overwhelmed by the soy or sesame flavors. Recommended.

mess!

It is one of my talents in the kitchen--thus far, one of the few, other than following a recipe--to make the biggest mess making the simplest recipes. The one I tried this evening is pretty much a basic spaghetti aglio e olio (garlic and olive oil), but with the addition of anchovies and breadcrumbs. And I know, most people hear anchovies and feel their gorge rising--and I know this because everyone I've told about this recipe has made the same face when hearing the name of my favorite little fish--but cooking the anchovies really changes the taste and texture, and they were so buried under layers of carbs in this particular recipe, you wouldn't have tasted them even if they were raw. Much, anyway.

But I digress. The recipe's ridiculously simple: grind, toast, and sautee breadcrumbs; boil water and cook pasta; sautee garlic, olive oil and anchovies before adding a touch of chicken stock; toss oil and spaghetti; throw in some cheese; toss in breadcrumbs; chow. And yet right now my kitchen looks like this:



So, there's one pot on the stove you can't see, for the pasta. And then there's the bowl I put the pasta in when I drained it. And there's the bowl I mashed the garlic, salt, and anchovies in before I sauteed them. And there's a cookie sheet somewhere for toasting the breadcrumbs. And in the sink, there's not only the strainer and some glasses and such from yesterday, but also the blender carafe from when I almost burned out the blender motor trying to grind bread into crumbs without liquid, as well as the mini-prep food processor I almost burned out trying to crumb bread with a machine that's not really meant to crumb bread. My mother would faint to see this sink.



Plus, I had to dirty an extra bowl to toss the pasta with the oil and breadcrumbs because the original bowl was too small, because I am awesome like that. I'm looking forward to the clean up sometime next week when I finally decide to do it.

This is the thing with the easier recipes: I try to do everything all at once. I decide to forget about the whole 1, 2, 3 step process in the recipe, and this has historically never worked well. One pan gets too hot, another thing gets too cold, and so on. Plus, when I go slow, I tend to clean up as I go, and this was not that kind of recipe. This was hurry hurry hurry eat.

On the upside, it was delicious.

Fajita taco enchiladas

I'm on this kick lately of trying to use leftovers creatively--or at least, to consume them in a different way than I did before they were left over and were something resembling a meal. I made buffalo tacos on Thursday along with a pot of peppers and onions, which I like having alongside whatever. But peppers and onions make rather horrible leftovers, and the buffalo, on the second night, just didn't look appealing. So I layered them with some cheese between soft taco shells, and now I'm pretty well convinced I'm a genius. I should market this as a hangover cureall, because I think it'd do the trick for people who get hungry hangovers like I do.

I like the buffalo taco recipe in and of itself, it's thick and better than the packaged stuff, and it could, honestly be spicier if I had less fear of red pepper. It's pretty basic, once again courtesy oc Cooking Light:

1 teaspoon canola oil
1 cup chopped onion (about 1 small)
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 pound lean ground buffalo
1/3 cup tomato paste
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon ground red pepper
2 cups water

Fry up the onion, garlic, and buffalo in the oil. Once the meat has browned, add tomato paste and spices; stir to combine. Add water; bring to a boil; simmer 20 minutes or until thickened. The first time I had this on soft corn shells with crunchy boston lettuce, tomatos, cheese, black olives, and sour cream, as the recipe advises. I had the peppers and onions--one red, one orange, one green, and about two sweet onions, cooked over medium low heat in a Dutch oven coated with olive oil and cooking spray for as long as it takes to get them cooked down to the right color and consistency for your taste--on the side. And then the other night, I tried this:

1. Spray a small pan with cooking spray. Lay in a soft flour shell. Spoon out buffalo:

2. Cheese it.

3. Spoon over buffalo peppers and onions:

4. Cheese it, again.

5. Press it down with something heavy; this is the colander part of my steaming pot weighted with the first two jars I put my hands on, one of sliced beets (mm), one of olives.

6. Place pan over medium heat:

7. When the sizzle gets good and snappy, tip the pan away from you and flip with your favorite flat spatula:

8. Press again under weighting device. Perhaps figure out how to use your camera before the burning part:

9. Slop on plate:

10. Masticate with great delight.

You might not HAVE to get drunk before you have these, but... why not anyway?

I know what you're having for dinner

Not to be creepy with the title, but seriously, you must try this chicken. It was crispy and sweet and perfectly done, and not too spicy. And worth the smoke in my kitchen, despite how much it, and the very idea of using the broiler, freaks me out.

I'll admit the picture doesn't make it look mind-numbingly appetizing, but a) I suck as a food photographer thus far, and b) IT TOTALLY IS.



It has not been the best summer for cooking--too hot, too poor, too tired, too lazy, too frustrated with my ever-confounding digestive system. And tired as I was today, the idea of another night of pasta or leftovers was more exhausting than that of cooking, and making something new rather made me feel much better. Chicken, my mom's potato salad, some spinach, iced tea, and it was a nice, easy dinner that tasted good and was fun to make. Balm to my annoyed soul.

Recipe from Cooking Light--and, by the way, CL has a weird habit of suggesting cream-based dishes made with cream cheese, which is the oddest thing ever. The consistency is never quite right, even if the taste is all right. Feels like diet food.

This one, however, didn't:
Spicy Honey-Brushed Chicken Thighs
2 tsps garlic powder
2 tsps chili powder
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp ground red pepper
8 skinless, boneless chicken thighs
Cooking spray
6 tbsp honey
2 tsps cider vinegar

1. Preheat broiler.
2. Combine spices in bowl, toss chicken to coat thoroughly.
3. Broil chicken on a broiler pan coated with cooking spray (I pressed tin foil to the pan, made it easier to turn) for five minutes on each side.
4. Combine honey and vinegar, stirring well. Pull chicken from broiler, brush top side with half the honey mixture; return to broiler for one minute. Turn, brush with honey, and broil for an additional minute or until chicken is done

I didn't have to cook it longer than this, and it came out perfectly done, not the slightest bit dry and almost delicately crispy on the outside.

Sissy, you must try this one.

why did the chicken

I have been in a cooking rut for some while, lots of chicken and pestos and pastas. And, last week, a rather bland combination thereof.

Sample one: the lemon-herb roasted chicken.



Really, really good.

The second attempt was, surprisingly, better, but somewhat... the opposite of aesthetically appealing.



I've been playing a lot with leftovers, hence the pasta and pesto. I always have pesto around, just because. I love it, it's easy to make, it goes with tons of stuff, and you can make it a hundred different ways. And all these things lead to meals like this:



Peas, chicken, artichoke hearts, pesto, and orzo. And some cheese, we shall not forget the parm. It hit the spot when I made it, a nice carby combination of green, but it didn't keep well.

The thing with the chicken is, again, that it's an easy recipe and I can make it at the beginning of the week and have sandwiches with something other than deli meat all week. Also, enchiladas, pizza, a la king, chicken salad, etc. I was actually absurdly ambitious the last time I made it and got up at six and put it in the oven before work.

The lemon-herb recipe is great and goes with everything, but I skipped it this week and used Bon Appetite's roasted pesto chicken. And I'll admit, on this one, that while I prefer the homemade kind and I did have some in the fridge, I followed the recipe and used store-bought this time. Which, consistency-wise, was a good choice, and I had a guarantee there'd be enough.

The recipe is courtesy of Bon Appetite's 50th anniversary book. There are additional ingredients and directions for making gravy, but I've yet to do so.

1 6-7 lb whole chicken
1 tbsp fresh rosemary
1 tbsp fresh thyme
lemon zest
garlic
1 stick of butter, softened
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 450.

Combine herbs, zest, salt, pepper, and butter, combine thoroughly. Rinse the bird inside and out and pat dry. Loosen the skin on the breast and legs. Spread herbed butter over the breast and legs (under the skin), inside the chicken, and all over the outside of the bird. Massage the butter into the skin as well as underneath, over the breasts and legs to get everything thoroughly coated.

Cook bird uncovered for 15 minutes, then drop the temperature to 375. Cook another hour and 15 minutes or until you poke the chicken in the thigh and the juices run clear.

tragic inability to spell the word congratulations

So, I tried my hand at cake decorating tonight. A local (and fantastic) bakery held a class, so seven other novices and I showed up to learn how to make borders, roses, and how to best frost a cake. The decorate who led the class was great: energetic, passionate about her job, and patient. I had so much fun, and I'm doubtful that's just the sugar talking.

I also, it turns out, am a hideous cake artist. Jen, the leader, did offer me a spot in one of the kiddie classes, so maybe there's hope for me? I'm okay with rather sucking at this, because it means I can practice and get better. I certainly can't get worse.

This is my cake, pre-frosting. I had some trouble cutting in half; the slice through the middle was uneven at best.



Jen helped me smooth out the frosting, as I botched it.



Are you prepared for my genius?



No, really.



That's just the border. That's not too bad, right?

...compared to the rest.

Ta daaa!



Whee!



(The roses look much better from the top.) (I swear.)

At least I couldn't mess up the taste.



I'm so going to buy a kit for this.

Dressed Up Dolly

When your sister says, "How come you never...?", what she really means is "I want you to..." And since we're making the same dish tonight, albeit in two different ways in two different tiny apartment kitchens, this seems as good a time as any to let her think she can get her way.

Around our home, breaded chicken breasts or cutlets browned in olive oil with lemon slices and sherry is known as Dolly chicken, named after the lovely culinary genius Aunt Dolly, our mother's aunt and the closest we've had to a grandmother in our lives. Anything that Aunt Dolly makes tastes better than anything else in the world, no matter what it is. I don't know what it is she does, but I suspect she employs some sort of Sicilian sorcery; everything she makes with her two hands is simply delicious. Family logic demands that when we try to replicate her recipes, we call them "Dolly X." Dolly chicken. Dolly burgers. Dolly rice. Dolly broccoli. Dolly... eggplant parmesan. Dolly coffee cake. (The secrets to some of these things are silly, you know. Dolly rice is actually risotto milanese, but we didn't know that for a good long while, and I'm pretending I've never, ever heard the story that Dolly coffee cake is Duncan Heinz.)

When I lived at home, Dolly chicken was pretty much a weekly staple, because it was easy, fast, and made with sherry. These are all good things for week night cooking. I had some chicken tenders in the fridge tonight--I stock up on these because it's cheaper and easier cooking for one to buy tenders instead of breasts--and after going through a list of meals I really didn't want to make or eat, I decided on the fallback that is always good, Dolly chicken. And for reasons inexplicable--or maybe just because cooking is soothing and my subconscious wanted to destress without alerting me to said stress, I decided that regular Dolly chicken wasn't quite enough for tonight. I wanted to make something more. I really, really liked the results.

(I unfortunately do not have a photo of the results because my camera's lost its charge and none of the batteries I have seem to be working. Next time.)

Dressed Up Dolly Chicken
1 lb-ish chicken breasts, cutlets, or tenders
2 egg whites, beaten just slightly
seasoned breadcrumbs
grated parmesan cheese (or romano, asagio, whatever's handy)
lemon zest
lemon juice
dry or cream sherry
capers
marinated (or plain, whatever trips your tongue) artichokes, one small jar

In a large bowl or on a plate, pour out your desired amount of breadcrumbs--however much it's going to take for the amount of chicken you have--and combine with a good full handful or two of cheese and the zest of a lemon. Dip chicken into egg whites and then thoroughly coat with breadcrumb mixture. Add olive oil to a medium-to-large skillet over medium-to-low heat, and place the chicken. When the bottom begins to brown, turn the chicken pieces and add the juice of one lemon. (If capers and artichokes aren't your thing, cut up another lemon into thin, translucent slices and use them to cover the chicken at this point--the chicken will get lemony and stay nice and moist that way. The capers will give it a slight salty bite.) Sprinkle the skillet with capers and drained artichokes. When the chicken's nearly done, add a splash of sherry to the bottom of the pan. As soon as the alcohol cooks off, you're done and ready to serve.

We generally have this with parmesan orzo or rice pilaf, it's a nice side to the sweet, citrusy chicken. I also like it with steamed broccoli--or peas. Pease go with everything.