Why didn’t I just peel the beets?

Here’s a new tip that I just discovered.  I’m kicking myself that I did not think of it sooner.  Want to make harvard beets? Or something else that needs cooked beets?  Don’t spend an hour roasting them, then let them cool a little, then peel off the skin, then chop and re-heat them… just use a potato peeler.  Peel them.  Then chop and cook them as desired.

Sigh.  And it only took me two years of loving beets to think of that.

Fancy Pants Party Dip

OK, OK.  I’m still on a Linden Dale Farms goat cheese kick.  I don’t see why everyone in the world isn’t.  Except that if the farm had to scale up its production to feed the whole world, it might not taste as good.  They might have to utilize *GASP!* inferior goat milk.

But they don’t, and so their cheese is fab. It formed a tasty part of the party at our house last Saturday (P.S. mad crazy affection to everyone who came and livened up our Lancaster abode).

Ready for a super-easy delicious fancy pants dip?  OK.  Here goes.  You’ll need:

Toasts, or crackers, or other favored dipping things
1 can tuna
4 oz goat cheese
1 Tbsp. capers

Blend the last three ingredients together in a blender or food processor.  Dip with dipping things.

Known and Tested Variations: add green onions or garlic

If you’re looking for an easy, great flatbread, give this a try. I also like it with thyme or basil instead of rosemary.

Roasted Root Vegetables and Feta

Surprise!  Isn’t the weather gorgeous today?  I wish to goodness that fresh spring foods were spontaneously springing up all over the sidewalks.  Can you taste the snap peas now?  The tiny spinach?  The radishes?  *happy sigh*

Well, root vegetables are good, too.  Especially when you can combine them with the best feta ever. Linden Dale Farms (from Central Market, where else?) makes all their cheese and fabulous fudge from goat milk.  I could go into raptures about their mozzarella, and why it is the best mozzarella I’ve had outside of Italy, and how I could die happy with a ball of it in one hand and a super-ripe, just-picked tomato in the other.

But today I’m focusing on the feta.  Greg asked Mary, the lady who mans the stand almost every Saturday, what her favorite method of eating Linden Dale feta is.  And besides straight up on salads, it is this: Roasted Root Vegetables and Feta.

1.  Set a round of feta in the center of a pan.

2.  Surround it with root vegetables diced in 1-inch cubes. Potatoes, sweet potatoes, turnips, onions, some-squash-even-though-it-isn’t-a-root, anything along those lines.

3. Drizzle everything with olive oil. No need to salt, since you’re going to get a lot of saltiness from the cheese.

4. Cover with foil.  Bake in the oven at 350 until the root vegetables are soft, 45 minutes-1hour.

Anticipation for Cold Brewed Coffee

It is my morning at home.  I just finished working on a special end-of-week treat for The Husband.  It is amazing how anticipation heightens your enjoyment of things – cold brewed coffee included.

Of course, it’s not limited to cold brewed coffee or edibles, like pickles, that may take a few weeks to come into their full deliciousness.

Lately, I have been making the new clothing that I need.  I said I’d do it for a year.  That year would have ended in March.  But I think I’m going to keep making my own clothes.  Why?  Well, as a person who makes things just about every minute of the day – whether it’s food, sewing, knitting, or printmaking, I’m finding it fun.  It is a challenge.  It has helped to develop whichever part of my brain controls 3-dimensional reasoning. I anticipate a finished garment much more when I am making it myself.

Not only is the sense of anticipation and enjoyment greater for every individual garment, making my own clothes helps me hone my sense of anticipation for a more just world.  We frankly just can’t afford fair trade clothing at this point in our lives – but I have plenty of time to hunt down old lengths of cloth and turn them into something wearable.  I know that initially these old lengths of cloth may have been produced in a sweatshop, but it is the best I can do as far as not placing any additional burden on other people somewhere in the world.  I know where to find fair-trade yarn for the socks and sweaters I need.  I have an old treadle sewing machine that doesn’t use any fancy minerals that may have been mined by slave labor.

I can create a closet full of garments that does not demand unreasonable hours, unsafe working conditions, or child labor from any other human being out there.  And that small step, one closet, is worth anticipating with a toast (of some excellent cold-brewed coffee, perhaps?).

Extirpated

Does it sound like a made up word to you?  It does to me too.  But I came across it as part of my sketching time on Monday.  Apparently real scientists use it to mean something along the lines of “a species which was once found in a particular area, like Pennsylvania, but is no longer found there, but it isn’t extinct or endangered actually.”  So, for instance, Pennsylvania has an enormous number (two handwritten college-ruled pieces of paper’s worth) of extirpated plant species – species that were once native but aren’t found anywhere in the whole state any more.

So that was my sketching time on Monday.  And it was definitely worthwhile – it led me to such evocative names as “three-seeded mercury.”

…those machines, you know?

In case you can't read my writing: 5 cooked sweet potatoes, drained; 1/2 tsp. dried dill weed; 1 cup yogurt or sour cream; burn string and blend well, adding a little water if necessary.

I Came for the Bread, and Stayed for the Chicken Liver Pate: One Woman’s Journey Towards Unity with the Organ Meats

My loves – remember my last liver escapade?  I am happy to report that my experimental chicken liver pate turned out much nicer.  So nice that it deserved an overdramatic blog post title.  So nice that I will voluntarily eat it as a snack.  Even Greg admitted that “it is not too bad” and “tastes pretty much like chicken” instead of grossness and manure.  I think it helped that I mixed in a few other organ meats of less distinctive taste, and lots of thyme, onion, garlic, and red wine.   And with a paste, you are not expecting a firm meat texture, so there are no weird texture expectations to battle against.

The one thing you abso-posi-lutely have to do when you make this?  Let it chill in the fridge for a day or two before eating.  It smells disgusting while you’re cooking it, and honestly yes it looks kind of gross when you blend it up, but if you forge ahead determined to have a culinary adventure (or at least cross off New Year’s resolution #12) you will be pleasantly surprised.

I admit, I found this recipe from an unexpected source, too – I bought this book on sourdough bread with my birthday money and, overcome by the sneaky beauty of his food photography, allowed myself to be wooed into trying pate.

(I apologize to the more erudite among you that I cannot figure out how to make the little accent thing above the e happen.  It is confusing me, too.  But I do not refer to chicken heads.  As funny as that would be.)

Oh, what?  You’re ready for the recipe?  My excited bubbling does not entertain you enough?  Well.  I triple dog dare you not to bubble if you end up liking organ meats, too.

Chicken Liver Pate (my take on Tartine Bread’s “Baker’s Foie”)

6 chicken livers (in my case, 4 livers and 2 hearts)
olive oil
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon dried thyme
6 Tbsp. butter at room temperature
1/2 cup red wine
1/2 tsp. salt

Rinse the livers in cold water and remove any visible fat or connective tissue. Heat a heavy skillet over high heat and add enough live oil to coat the bottom. When the oil begins to smoke, carefully add the livers and sear for about 30 seconds. Quickly turn the livers, add the garlic, and sear for about 30 seconds.  Add the thyme and cook for a few seconds until it is aromatic. Remove the pan from the heat and pour off the excess oil and fat.  While the pan is still hot, add 2 Tbsp of the butter and 1/2 c. cognac and deglaze the pan, stirring to loosen any brown bits sticking to the bottom. Transfer the contents of the pan to a food processor and let cool for 8-10 minutes before processing.  Then chill for a day before eating.  Very good with a strong, herb-y bread.

You like? I made these fabulous gloves for Greg! Check one off the list and move on to the next!

Make your own mayo

What is with all this posting right after I said I wouldn’t give you any recipes?  Maybe I’m feeling inspired with all this sketching (no pics, today, though – all the sketches turned out crappy and I never promised to embarrass myself).  Or maybe, because I don’t have to do it, posting is fun!  I call it The Law of Human Contrariness.  It may be closely related to the Law of Weather Contrariness – i.e., what seems to be the universal truth that adults are congenitally unable to appreciate whatever weather is currently happening.

I am undergoing a bout of Weather Contrariness myself at the moment.

But here is a pile of white fluffiness that will not wrong you.  Nor will it ever wrong your deviled eggs or radish sandwiches.

Don’t be intimidated. I know some of you are out there thinking “You do WHAT? That sounds hard.”  But I usually make my mayo in about 5 minutes in between putting dinner in the oven and tackling the dishes.  It’s that simple.  It only makes 3 dishes (a measuring cup, a measuring spoon, and a blender). And it tastes a little richer, a little more lemon-y than what you get in the store.  Not to mention you have the option to make it with whatever oil you deem healthiest or tastiest.  Imagine – sesame flavored mayo?  Mayo with an olive oil tang (I really dig it)?

Mayo
from Jam it, Pickle it, Cure it – the book includes a lot of very tasty variations, so it’s definitely worth looking into!  And it includes a killer homemade cracker recipe.  In case you wanted crackers, mayo dip, and radishes. Oof, I would cry with joy if someone gave me a bunch of radishes today.

1 egg a room temperature
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. prepared mustard (as opposed to mustard powder)
2 tsp. lemon juice
1 cup oil

Combine the first four ingredients in a blender and blend for 30 seconds.  Keep the blender going, and keep adding oil to it in a thin stream – the book recommends 1/2 tsp every 30 seconds.  Honestly, you don’t have to be too particular about pace as long as you are adding it just a little at a time so the emulsion can form.  If you add it all at once, you will get something that tastes mayo-like but looks like a vinaigrette (oops!).  That is also what you will get if you decide to try and make a half batch with 1 egg but 1/2 the amount of oil (what can I say? I was worried about using it up efficiently since there’s no artificial preservatives involved).

Now, if you want to make it the traditional French way in a copper mixing bowl by hand with a whisk and use only egg yolks — yeah, you’d be crazy.  Or teaching a French culture class (hopefully full of very energetic and appreciative participants).