Cook's Illustrated, cooking in bursts, and cooking from the garden
Times are tough in the magazine world.
Tough enough that even Cook's Illustrated is offering discounted subscription rates. So I re-upped again.
Cook's Illustrated is like Consumer Reports for cooks, with in addition helpful tips and various classic recipes run through "America's Test Kitchen" to assure that you get the desired taste impact for the minimum amount of effort.
For me, it's mostly moot; a lot of the classic recipes have meat in them, though it is interesting reading how to butterfly a chicken even if I'll never do it. I'm sure other culinary tourists read Cook's too. The tips are good; I buy Pam with flour (essentially "Baker's Joy," which is vegetable oil with a propellant and flour in it, used to spray cake pans, mostly) and damn, it really works. I made a chocolate cake the other day using it, and the cake practically leaped out of the pan at me, which is certainly not usually the way with cakes. If I make layer cakes again (which I do maybe once a year), I'll definitely use this stuff.
My mother notes that sometimes one reads cookbooks just for fun. I can see how one might enjoy this, but I'm not ready for it just yet. I still read cookbooks in the interest of finding something I might make for dinner.
These days finding the spark for "I think I'll make such and such for dinner" is harder than it used to be. The spark tends to come in bursts; an object in motion tends to remain in motion, and this is true in my kitchen too. So in the last two days, the husband having cleaned the kitchen, I've made cheese scones, taco salad, a chocolate cake, pesto-topped focaccia, and couscous-currant salad. What is for lunch this next week will not be an issue.
Recently we've had a lot of tomatoes, mostly "chocolate cherries," which are named for the sort of bronze color they turn when they're ripe. I'm not at the point where I'm ready to give them away, but I am at the point where I'm starting to throw them in things I'm making, or make recipes because they call for tomatoes.
I threw some in the pesto-topped focaccia, a standard I've been making for the last 16 years. This is the first time I've actually topped the focaccia with real pesto; I'm not sure why, with the basil growing all summer, it hadn't occurred to me to make pesto earlier this season. I have pine nuts in the fridge; the cheese isn't quite authentic (I ran out of Parmesan and made it with Asiago) but no one complained.
I suppose I'll make pesto again before the season's over. It will be over soon; it's getting chilly in the evenings and I'm starting to think about denuding the marjoram, oregano and basil before it gets too cold. Not much point in denuding the parsley; it doesn't keep particularly well. I could try to grow it in a pot, I guess. (I will move in some of the chives.)
I just put a couple of bulbs of garlic in the ground; I am hopeful they'll come up. They grew well in Iowa. The mint has run riot (I knew it would), as have the chives (should probably split them). I should make tabbouleh, but I just haven't felt like it. (It would use up some of the tomatoes: hmm.) I like having the herbs; they make sure I get out and look at the side garden periodically, which otherwise I wouldn't. The flowers are basically done for the year; the lilies came up late, as I'd hoped they would. The mini-irises were a disappointment; the canna lilies never even got started. I have irises from DeKalbShare (our local Freecycle); we'll see how they do next year. I may hack out some of the shrubs, which don't appear to do anything (might try replanting them elsewhere - at least one is a lilac, though it only produced one half-hearted flower spike). I think next year I'll be thinning out the ornamental grass. If I believed I'd be living here for more than another year or two I'd get rid of it. However, the house's last owners had the right idea - it's decorative and requires little maintenance. (I do miss owning a house where I wasn't always thinking about what the house's next owners might want.)
The garden I actually see is in front of the house; I put a little L-shaped garden by the front walk to make sure I actually saw the occasional flower as I drove home in the twilight from my commute. (Daffodils are good for the soul.) The mulched area for the front branch of the "L" is in good shape. I need to dig into it and place the bulbs Jason dug out for me to put the mulch and the edgers in. I think it is time to face the fact that I will either have to do the other branch of the "L" myself or wait for his next trip up here, which won't be until spring. I guess there will be flowering plants in the grass next spring again. That was an experiment that didn't really work out.
This journal meanders a lot. I'm not really sure why I keep one. Though at least keeping it on-line gives it slightly more purpose than a paper one.
If you're reading this, hi.
Tough enough that even Cook's Illustrated is offering discounted subscription rates. So I re-upped again.
Cook's Illustrated is like Consumer Reports for cooks, with in addition helpful tips and various classic recipes run through "America's Test Kitchen" to assure that you get the desired taste impact for the minimum amount of effort.
For me, it's mostly moot; a lot of the classic recipes have meat in them, though it is interesting reading how to butterfly a chicken even if I'll never do it. I'm sure other culinary tourists read Cook's too. The tips are good; I buy Pam with flour (essentially "Baker's Joy," which is vegetable oil with a propellant and flour in it, used to spray cake pans, mostly) and damn, it really works. I made a chocolate cake the other day using it, and the cake practically leaped out of the pan at me, which is certainly not usually the way with cakes. If I make layer cakes again (which I do maybe once a year), I'll definitely use this stuff.
My mother notes that sometimes one reads cookbooks just for fun. I can see how one might enjoy this, but I'm not ready for it just yet. I still read cookbooks in the interest of finding something I might make for dinner.
These days finding the spark for "I think I'll make such and such for dinner" is harder than it used to be. The spark tends to come in bursts; an object in motion tends to remain in motion, and this is true in my kitchen too. So in the last two days, the husband having cleaned the kitchen, I've made cheese scones, taco salad, a chocolate cake, pesto-topped focaccia, and couscous-currant salad. What is for lunch this next week will not be an issue.
Recently we've had a lot of tomatoes, mostly "chocolate cherries," which are named for the sort of bronze color they turn when they're ripe. I'm not at the point where I'm ready to give them away, but I am at the point where I'm starting to throw them in things I'm making, or make recipes because they call for tomatoes.
I threw some in the pesto-topped focaccia, a standard I've been making for the last 16 years. This is the first time I've actually topped the focaccia with real pesto; I'm not sure why, with the basil growing all summer, it hadn't occurred to me to make pesto earlier this season. I have pine nuts in the fridge; the cheese isn't quite authentic (I ran out of Parmesan and made it with Asiago) but no one complained.
I suppose I'll make pesto again before the season's over. It will be over soon; it's getting chilly in the evenings and I'm starting to think about denuding the marjoram, oregano and basil before it gets too cold. Not much point in denuding the parsley; it doesn't keep particularly well. I could try to grow it in a pot, I guess. (I will move in some of the chives.)
I just put a couple of bulbs of garlic in the ground; I am hopeful they'll come up. They grew well in Iowa. The mint has run riot (I knew it would), as have the chives (should probably split them). I should make tabbouleh, but I just haven't felt like it. (It would use up some of the tomatoes: hmm.) I like having the herbs; they make sure I get out and look at the side garden periodically, which otherwise I wouldn't. The flowers are basically done for the year; the lilies came up late, as I'd hoped they would. The mini-irises were a disappointment; the canna lilies never even got started. I have irises from DeKalbShare (our local Freecycle); we'll see how they do next year. I may hack out some of the shrubs, which don't appear to do anything (might try replanting them elsewhere - at least one is a lilac, though it only produced one half-hearted flower spike). I think next year I'll be thinning out the ornamental grass. If I believed I'd be living here for more than another year or two I'd get rid of it. However, the house's last owners had the right idea - it's decorative and requires little maintenance. (I do miss owning a house where I wasn't always thinking about what the house's next owners might want.)
The garden I actually see is in front of the house; I put a little L-shaped garden by the front walk to make sure I actually saw the occasional flower as I drove home in the twilight from my commute. (Daffodils are good for the soul.) The mulched area for the front branch of the "L" is in good shape. I need to dig into it and place the bulbs Jason dug out for me to put the mulch and the edgers in. I think it is time to face the fact that I will either have to do the other branch of the "L" myself or wait for his next trip up here, which won't be until spring. I guess there will be flowering plants in the grass next spring again. That was an experiment that didn't really work out.
This journal meanders a lot. I'm not really sure why I keep one. Though at least keeping it on-line gives it slightly more purpose than a paper one.
If you're reading this, hi.