I received this e-mail Monday afternoon from my coworker and friend Matt.
"I'm working on an article about military MREs. As part of our extensive reporting on this very important topic, we've invited some of Utah's top chefs to come and review 20 of the military's infamous travel-ready meals.
"And I'm going to need some help.
"I need three people to help me cook & plate the MREs, beginning Monday at 9:30 a.m. and lasting for about two hours. Experience with these nasty things is nice, but not necessary. (I'll give a quick crash course on the preparation of these fine meals and then let you go at it.)
"If you're interested, please check with your editor to make sure it's OK to burn a couple hours this way and then let me know if you can lend a hand. The expressions on these gourmets' faces should be enough, but I'll also make it worth your while in other ways (read: booze.)"
Not noticing the email's timestamp, I assumed the request was for the same day (one of my days off) and I blew it off, looking forward to hearing about the results.
Apparently, response wasn't what he expected (or editors wouldn't OK the time), because he tapped me to help out next Monday. He thought it might be worth bloggin about. I hope so.
The Italian challenge went well – eventually. Pictures and a longer post TK.
08 January 2008
06 January 2008
Italian
Week one of the challenge was, well, certainly a challenge.
A bunch of old friends from my days at Starbucks were weaving in and out of town, and many of them started school on Monday, January 7. I wanted to host a shindig at my new place. Consensus was that Saturday night (which I usually work) would be best for most people.
(bradley, left, lexi, back of caroline's head, danielle, and ryan. it was late; we were tired. except brad.)
After looking through a cookbook one of my cousins put together with recipes from family friends, I decided to start with Italian food. Jamie's compilation, The World in My Kitchen, includes recipes from Raffaele "Lele" Malferrari, who grew up outside Bologna. Apparently Lele loved bean soup as a kid, so Jamie included its recipe. She also included one for lasagna verdi al forno (baked spinach lasagna) that included bechamel and a ragu.
The pasta di faggioli, Lele's Bolognese bean soup, looked easy enough on paper. I soaked the navy beans overnight, and then some. The aroma of olive oil and garlic filling the kitchen was heavenly. Things were going well until the oil started splattering all over! I hurried and turned it down, but that front right burner runs extra hot. After I added parsley and tomato puree, the saucepan calmed down. I cooked the beans in the FLAME! oven, which also runs hot, and I can't believe those didn't burn.
After running the beans through the mini-chopper (oops! I guess when I read the recipe the first time, I didn't see anything about a food mill - which I don't have), with cooking water, I set the mush - not exactly puree - aside in a big china serving dish. I was trying to cook for the lasagna at the same time (I'll get to that) and was running out of stovetop food receptacles! After rinsing the oval oven and pouring the lasagna sauce into it, I rinsed the big pot and reassembled the beans and tomato/parsley/garlic sauce in it. I followed directions and added the rice and potatoes, but after waiting a while it seemed like the potatoes weren't cooking. So I covered it and turned up the heat.
If you're a real cook, you may have just winced at that.
I burned the soup. Didn't realize that was possible. And I didn't realize what was happening for a while, either. My phone was ringing off the hook and I was trying to concoct lasagna, and I probably didn't like the song on the radio, all at the same time.
As soon as I figured out something might be wrong with the soup, I pulled it from the heat, after playing musical chairs with the other pots on burners, and stirred it. When you can tell that the entire contents of the pot are rotating together, things are very bad. I used a spatula to pull up from the bottom of the pot, and there was my charred pasta di faggioli. I'm sure it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened, because it was surprisingly easy to scrape the soup from the charred part and keep cooking - after adding more broth, and going back to low heat.
The lasagna didn't give me any trouble, really. It was just more complicated than I expected.
Ragu alla bolognese - was supposed to be made with freshly ground chuck, which sounds like it would be damn good. But one of my presumed guests was vegetarian, so I substituted finely chopped (minced? I should learn the difference) portobello mushrooms. It turned out great - Danielle, the veg, loved it, and no one else noticed what was missing.
One of the ingredients for the lasagna was bechamel, a sauce made from butter, flour, milk, salt and pepper. It sounds fancy, and there are only a few ingredients, and it involves whisking constantly, so I was pretty intimidated.
Bechamel is the most forgiving sauce ever. I was mid-whisk when I noticed the soup crisis. I turned down the heat on the bechamel and dealt with the soup, and when I went back to whisking, the bechamel recovered marvelously. And I couldn't stop "tasting" it - next time I'll double the recipe, so there's extra for the lasagna.
I wanted to have dessert ready for my friends, too, but there was no way I could make something else. The boxed tiramisu (in keeping with the Italian theme!) from the frozen foods aisle worked GREAT.
Went well: Lasagna prep and cooking, chopping all the veggies the night before, substitutions. And we had such a good time!!
Didn't go so well: Figuring cooking times - when Caroline started into the soup, the potatoes still weren't done. Pot and pan and burner management - musical chairs on a stove is no fun. I went through the saucepan, the frying pan, the big pot, and the oval oven (that's all I've got) multiple times each before the meal was done. I hope that was a one-time thing.
I was given china when I got married that I had never used in three years. Well, why not now? We went through all eight place settings. I've never been happier to do so many dishes. Friends I hadn't seen in ages came by and ate and drank (and disregarded the vaguely squatteresque feel of the apartment). Dyson took pictures of the food, but I still haven't seen them. I only have the party pic, which is fine. Even though it felt like my head was spinning for hours, once my friends were over and food was done, it was SO worth it.
A bunch of old friends from my days at Starbucks were weaving in and out of town, and many of them started school on Monday, January 7. I wanted to host a shindig at my new place. Consensus was that Saturday night (which I usually work) would be best for most people.
(bradley, left, lexi, back of caroline's head, danielle, and ryan. it was late; we were tired. except brad.)
After looking through a cookbook one of my cousins put together with recipes from family friends, I decided to start with Italian food. Jamie's compilation, The World in My Kitchen, includes recipes from Raffaele "Lele" Malferrari, who grew up outside Bologna. Apparently Lele loved bean soup as a kid, so Jamie included its recipe. She also included one for lasagna verdi al forno (baked spinach lasagna) that included bechamel and a ragu.
The pasta di faggioli, Lele's Bolognese bean soup, looked easy enough on paper. I soaked the navy beans overnight, and then some. The aroma of olive oil and garlic filling the kitchen was heavenly. Things were going well until the oil started splattering all over! I hurried and turned it down, but that front right burner runs extra hot. After I added parsley and tomato puree, the saucepan calmed down. I cooked the beans in the FLAME! oven, which also runs hot, and I can't believe those didn't burn.
After running the beans through the mini-chopper (oops! I guess when I read the recipe the first time, I didn't see anything about a food mill - which I don't have), with cooking water, I set the mush - not exactly puree - aside in a big china serving dish. I was trying to cook for the lasagna at the same time (I'll get to that) and was running out of stovetop food receptacles! After rinsing the oval oven and pouring the lasagna sauce into it, I rinsed the big pot and reassembled the beans and tomato/parsley/garlic sauce in it. I followed directions and added the rice and potatoes, but after waiting a while it seemed like the potatoes weren't cooking. So I covered it and turned up the heat.
If you're a real cook, you may have just winced at that.
I burned the soup. Didn't realize that was possible. And I didn't realize what was happening for a while, either. My phone was ringing off the hook and I was trying to concoct lasagna, and I probably didn't like the song on the radio, all at the same time.
As soon as I figured out something might be wrong with the soup, I pulled it from the heat, after playing musical chairs with the other pots on burners, and stirred it. When you can tell that the entire contents of the pot are rotating together, things are very bad. I used a spatula to pull up from the bottom of the pot, and there was my charred pasta di faggioli. I'm sure it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened, because it was surprisingly easy to scrape the soup from the charred part and keep cooking - after adding more broth, and going back to low heat.
The lasagna didn't give me any trouble, really. It was just more complicated than I expected.
Ragu alla bolognese - was supposed to be made with freshly ground chuck, which sounds like it would be damn good. But one of my presumed guests was vegetarian, so I substituted finely chopped (minced? I should learn the difference) portobello mushrooms. It turned out great - Danielle, the veg, loved it, and no one else noticed what was missing.
One of the ingredients for the lasagna was bechamel, a sauce made from butter, flour, milk, salt and pepper. It sounds fancy, and there are only a few ingredients, and it involves whisking constantly, so I was pretty intimidated.
Bechamel is the most forgiving sauce ever. I was mid-whisk when I noticed the soup crisis. I turned down the heat on the bechamel and dealt with the soup, and when I went back to whisking, the bechamel recovered marvelously. And I couldn't stop "tasting" it - next time I'll double the recipe, so there's extra for the lasagna.
I wanted to have dessert ready for my friends, too, but there was no way I could make something else. The boxed tiramisu (in keeping with the Italian theme!) from the frozen foods aisle worked GREAT.
Went well: Lasagna prep and cooking, chopping all the veggies the night before, substitutions. And we had such a good time!!
Didn't go so well: Figuring cooking times - when Caroline started into the soup, the potatoes still weren't done. Pot and pan and burner management - musical chairs on a stove is no fun. I went through the saucepan, the frying pan, the big pot, and the oval oven (that's all I've got) multiple times each before the meal was done. I hope that was a one-time thing.
I was given china when I got married that I had never used in three years. Well, why not now? We went through all eight place settings. I've never been happier to do so many dishes. Friends I hadn't seen in ages came by and ate and drank (and disregarded the vaguely squatteresque feel of the apartment). Dyson took pictures of the food, but I still haven't seen them. I only have the party pic, which is fine. Even though it felt like my head was spinning for hours, once my friends were over and food was done, it was SO worth it.
05 January 2008
new year, new kitchen
I recently moved out of a long-term apartment and left a lot of things behind. My new apartment looked and felt naked, and I felt like it wouldn't be home until I made a meal there. The kitchen, especially, depressed me – drab white walls with a high ceiling and poorly designed "country kitchen" cabinetry, which probably magnified the empty feeling, because I could see what was missing behind the glass doors. It looked like there might be potential, but it was difficult to identify what was missing. Needless to say, I kind of avoided it.
Then a dear friend called on Christmas Day, asking if I'd received a large box in the mail. I said I hadn't, and he was upset because "they said it would be there by Christmas." I didn't know who this "they" was. We hung up, figuring the package had just been delayed. Leaving later that day to go do some laundry, I happened to look around the staircase that goes up through the center of the building, and caught a glimpse of a box in front of my apartment's vestigial door (it's probably left over from when the building was a house, or each floor was its own flat). That door doesn't have a number on it - it could be a closet as far as anyone's concerned. But there it was, the missing box.
I hauled it inside, and called him back to let him know I'd been mistaken. As I opened the box, I ended up leaving a long, rambling message of flabbergastedness – as close to speechless as I've ever been. The return address was The Chef's Shop, in Great Barrington, Mass., and inside were many goodies:
COLOR was what my kitchen was missing! It's funny how much of a difference that made once the tea towel and oven mitts were arranged just so by the stove, and of course that Le Creuset oval oven in FLAME! (which looks too small in the picture; must have been the angle) will stay on the stovetop. The gifts were an unbelievably generous move, and I can't wait to cook for the giver.
Its been very chilly here lately, so the first thing I made in the FLAME! pot was chili:
The super-high quality of the pot, and maybe even just the brand's reputation, really intimidated me! I still handle it very gingerly, even though that thing has more tough in its plastic oven-safe-to-450-degrees-lid than I do in my whole body. But the chefs at work assure me that I won't ruin it, and it'll cook everything. Kathy, the food writer, said, "You can even braise in it!" I replied that I don't even know what that is, yet. The coworker behind me assured me that I've done it a million times, whether I knew it or not. I looked it up in Food Lover's Companion, and nope, I've never braised. But I'll see if I can do that in week two of the...
...Food/cooking-related New Year's resolution! It got figured out Sunday with lots of help from my coworker Erin. I'll be cooking food from a different country every week. If I go out of town, I don't have to do that week (but probably will). Instead, I'll do at least two dishes the preceding or following week. Erin, a world traveler herself, had lots of good ideas about procuring recipes, so I'll only head for Bittman's World's Best Recipes if I abolutely have to.
I have this vision of heading to the African grocery store (I know the Salt Lake Valley has at least one), ingredient list in hand, then talking with an employee about me trying to cook, and hopefully getting suggestions for side dishes (such as injera, a flatbread – I'm learning already!) or cooking techniques that might help.
For week one - Italian! No, I'm not boiling up some Bertoli and throwing in some Prego (not that anything's wrong with that). On the menu this week, for a long-overdue shindig for old Starbucks coworkers, are pasta e fagioli (that's how FLC spells it), lasagna al funghi (subbing chopped portobello mushrooms for chuck in the ragu alla bolognese recipe) with handmade sauce and béchamel, and probably some combination of salad, bread and wine. I hope to have pictures of this - ideally with a digicam, not just my phone.
This is all happening in fewer than 24 hours, so I should probably get on the ball about it. Or at least start soaking some beans.
Then a dear friend called on Christmas Day, asking if I'd received a large box in the mail. I said I hadn't, and he was upset because "they said it would be there by Christmas." I didn't know who this "they" was. We hung up, figuring the package had just been delayed. Leaving later that day to go do some laundry, I happened to look around the staircase that goes up through the center of the building, and caught a glimpse of a box in front of my apartment's vestigial door (it's probably left over from when the building was a house, or each floor was its own flat). That door doesn't have a number on it - it could be a closet as far as anyone's concerned. But there it was, the missing box.
I hauled it inside, and called him back to let him know I'd been mistaken. As I opened the box, I ended up leaving a long, rambling message of flabbergastedness – as close to speechless as I've ever been. The return address was The Chef's Shop, in Great Barrington, Mass., and inside were many goodies:
COLOR was what my kitchen was missing! It's funny how much of a difference that made once the tea towel and oven mitts were arranged just so by the stove, and of course that Le Creuset oval oven in FLAME! (which looks too small in the picture; must have been the angle) will stay on the stovetop. The gifts were an unbelievably generous move, and I can't wait to cook for the giver.
Its been very chilly here lately, so the first thing I made in the FLAME! pot was chili:
The super-high quality of the pot, and maybe even just the brand's reputation, really intimidated me! I still handle it very gingerly, even though that thing has more tough in its plastic oven-safe-to-450-degrees-lid than I do in my whole body. But the chefs at work assure me that I won't ruin it, and it'll cook everything. Kathy, the food writer, said, "You can even braise in it!" I replied that I don't even know what that is, yet. The coworker behind me assured me that I've done it a million times, whether I knew it or not. I looked it up in Food Lover's Companion, and nope, I've never braised. But I'll see if I can do that in week two of the...
...Food/cooking-related New Year's resolution! It got figured out Sunday with lots of help from my coworker Erin. I'll be cooking food from a different country every week. If I go out of town, I don't have to do that week (but probably will). Instead, I'll do at least two dishes the preceding or following week. Erin, a world traveler herself, had lots of good ideas about procuring recipes, so I'll only head for Bittman's World's Best Recipes if I abolutely have to.
I have this vision of heading to the African grocery store (I know the Salt Lake Valley has at least one), ingredient list in hand, then talking with an employee about me trying to cook, and hopefully getting suggestions for side dishes (such as injera, a flatbread – I'm learning already!) or cooking techniques that might help.
For week one - Italian! No, I'm not boiling up some Bertoli and throwing in some Prego (not that anything's wrong with that). On the menu this week, for a long-overdue shindig for old Starbucks coworkers, are pasta e fagioli (that's how FLC spells it), lasagna al funghi (subbing chopped portobello mushrooms for chuck in the ragu alla bolognese recipe) with handmade sauce and béchamel, and probably some combination of salad, bread and wine. I hope to have pictures of this - ideally with a digicam, not just my phone.
This is all happening in fewer than 24 hours, so I should probably get on the ball about it. Or at least start soaking some beans.
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