Wednesday, October 24, 2012

The Joy of Leftovers

So, I was somewhat tempted to make a post of helpful hints.  However, I feel that the "hints" in question will make you think what I thought when I read the recipes for some of the classic French sauces in one of my cookbooks: "You've got to be kidding me; I mean, really, who has the time for that?"  On a side note, I feel that the British speak pattern of endless run-on sentences is superlative for complaints or criticisms.  Take the above example-- while adequately punctuated, it contains no less than three separate items of complaint.  Masterful.  Why all this fuss about French sauces?  Because a lot of those sauces are made from another sauce, which is made from yet a third sauce, or at the very least requires fresh homemade meat stock, which may as well be a sauce since it takes another three hours to prepare it.  I mean, honestly, really, what is the point?  So I won't pretend that my "hints" are expedient, but I will mention them since they were both pleasant surprises to me.

Hint # 1
"I am trying to eat more healthily but have a secret craving for that "Cream of Mushroom Soup" flavor for my casseroles."  Solution: make creamy mushroom risotto.  Put it in your casserole instead of boil-in-bag rice and Cream of Mushroom.  Tastes the same.  100% less badness.

Hint # 2
"I am trying to eat more healthily, or more low-meatily, but I miss the flavor of beefy delicious casseroles."  Solution: make my recipe for Rich Weekday Pasta e Fagioli and let it sit until the pasta soaks up the rest of the broth.  Put it on the bottom layer of your traditionally beefy casserole instead of ground beef.  This would obviously be best suited to a meat-and-tomato type dish.  Seriously.  It's yummy.

I discovered both of these through the joy of leftover eating.  Which just goes to show that doing so is not only cheap, but also educational.  I actually read a recent newspaper article that said that Italians in Italy are suddenly going back to eating leftovers instead of, I guess, just throwing them away.  I would judge, but I know Americans are no better.  I feel like I need to start an outreach program for people who were not brought up to actually make good use of their money.  Maybe that's what this blog is.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Rich Weekday Pasta e Fagioli / All Kinds of Rants

This is an easy, quicker version of the Italian staple, Pasta e Fagiole soup which, for some inexplicable reason, is pronounced "Pasta Fazhool".  Linguists of the world, please do not unite and try to explain to me exactly why this is.  I can actually work some, less-abstruse parts of it out for myself.  I just prefer to hyperbolize.  I would say this is an "x-ingredient recipe" except that the actual number of ingredients is not impressively-sounding low enough although, for the record, neither is the typical "x-ingredient recipe" if you count the actual number of ingredients required.  Let me rant a little here: if the recipe boldly highlights, possibly with full-color pictures, a can of some kind of soup, a jar of ketchup, and a package of ground beef, that does not mean those are the only ingredients if the rest of the (text) part of the recipe goes on to explain that you also need an onion, 4 different kinds of spices, a tub of sour cream, specialty cheesecloth, and a yak.  If an illiterate person combined the "three ingredients" he or she would not get a result like unto the picture.  Also, literate persons are then required to make a trip to a) the regular grocery store for two of the four spices that they don't have and the sour cream (who keeps sour cream besides people with serious nacho fixations?) and b) the specialty grocery for the cheesecloth and yak. 

Anyway, while the number of ingredients in this recipe is not of an Olympic-quality lowness, it is a pretty short list.  And, more importantly, the actual time to make this is about 12-15 minutes.  The end result is a pretty decent pot of Pasta e Fagioli soup that is hearty enough for a big bowlful for dinner or as an accompaniment to other things.  The tomato flavor is considerably rich, so if you want a lighter (or just brothier) soup, put in half the tomato sauce and substitute the missing volume with water.  (Or prepared broth of your choice.)

Rich Weekday Pasta e Fagioli

2 14-oz. cans red kidney beans, drained
1 15-oz. can prepared tomato sauce (your favorite jarred spaghetti sauce might be good here too)
8 oz. pasta
1 clove garlic
2-3 C. boiling water on hand
1 tsp. salt (or less-- I'm happy with the flavor I got but it could be less salty and still be flavorful)
1-2 TB. cooking oil
mint flakes, ground red pepper, and Italian seasoning to taste (I used about 1/2 tsp. each)
plenty of grated Parmesan cheese to serve it with*

Get your hot water ready in a separate pan (or microwave it, or use an electric tea kettle...whatever works for you).  Mince the garlic.  In a medium-small soup pot, heat the oil, then saute the garlic over medium heat just until it starts to release its flavors.  Then, add in the spices and salt (or you can wait to add the salt until the end) and stir them around in the bottom of the pot for a few seconds to allow them all to frizzle and release their flavors.  Then, dump in the cans of beans and tomato sauce.  Bring all that to a rapid simmer, stirring to mix the spices and garlic in thoroughly.  Then, dump in the uncooked macaroni.  Yes, you read me correctly.  No extra water (at this time).  Continue to stir, making sure to frequently scrape the bottom of the pot.  As the pasta starts to cook, it will begin to absorb the excess water from the beans and tomato sauce.  Once the mixture starts getting thick, add in a little water, about 1/2 C.  Continue to stir until all this is absorbed, then repeat the process until the macaroni is fully cooked and the soup is the consistency you like it, about 10-12 minutes.  It's a given that the pasta will absorb the remaining liquid overnight, so be prepared to add a little water in the next time you eat it...or just enjoy it the way it is.)  Serve piping hot with plenty of Parmesan cheese sprinkled on top. 

I know I have been remiss in posting the amount a recipe will make, so here, for the first time (I think) is the quantity:

Makes 6-8 side dish portions or 3-4 dinner-sized portions.
_________

*It is officially the Italian way to put a heap of Parmesan on top of whatever you may be eating, whether it be soup, meat, or dessert.  (Okay, I'm kidding about the dessert.)  But you can leave it off if you have lactose issues, or are having difficulty finding cruelty-free dairy options.  I will confess that this is a frustration of mine as well.  All the Fancy Dancy Grocers I've ever been to have all kinds of specialty liquid dairy and, to some extent, yogurt options.  In the realm of liquid dairy, I am pretty sure if I wanted to find milk from a genetically-modified emu raised in a host family from Honduras where it was given a primary education and attended church with the family once a week, I could.  But when it comes to actual cheese, mysteriously there are no longer any choices.  "But what if I want to know if the cows who were integral in the making of this cheese lived lives similar to a cow's natural inclinations and also not fed gummy worms because grain or hay was too expensive (not making this up)?" I mentally ask the Fancy Dancy Grocers.  "Too bad for you," imply the Fancy Dancy Grocers with their lack of options.
 

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Polenta Gangnam Style

Yes, I just went there.  Ever since I saw the music video which [spoiler alert] features Psy on the toilet [end spoiler], "Gangnam Style" has been my version of "Like a boss".  Which, I guess, was the point.  It's true.  I go around the house at times sounding like a bad impersonation of Kim Jong Il.  Returning to the subject, polenta is my new favorite meat substitute.  In order of likelihood, I will address your violent protests.  "But it doesn't hardly have any protein!"  Please.  When was the last time you chowed down on some plain tofu with salt and pepper for the sheer protein quality?  Thank you.  I would posit that the majority of the protein in a typical low-meat diet comes from: eggs, cheese, and beans.  And, according to some, kale.  But not me.  You will not find me "on the kale trail", as I once heard someone put it.  Ok, that's really the only protest I could think up.  But hear me out: it takes on the flavor of whatever you put it in, much like tofu, while itself having a pleasing texture and taste (especially if you make it with a savory broth), unlike tofu.  It also holds its shape remarkably well, also like tofu.  And, completely unlike tofu, it is both cheap and easy to make in your own kitchen in a short amount of time.  With all that being said, I present to you my tutorial of how to make polenta.  I offer it as a recipe AND tutorial because the recipe I used was somewhat vague and, at the time, I was totally unsure if I was over- or undercooking my polenta.  (I wasn't.  It turned out delicate and firm at the same time, unlike polenta I have had in the past that was dense and grainy.)  So here we go:

Polenta Gangnam Style

1-1/2 C. yellow corn meal (extra style points if it's non-GMO)
5 C. water or broth
1 tsp. salt
1-2 TB. cooking oil
more water

First: put your broth or water on the stove (aka the five cups-worth) and turn the unit on high so it will come to a rapid boil.  Then, whisk together your salt and cornmeal, then two cups of water (aka the "more water").  When the water or broth on the stove comes to a boil, dump all your water/cornmeal mixture into it in one go and whisk it rapidly while it's boiling to eliminate and also prevent any lumps.  Next, turn the heat on the stove down to medium, or even medium low.  You don't want to evaporate the water too fast.  Because that, my friends, is purpose A of the cooking of polenta: evaporating off the excess water.  Purpose B is to denature the corn proteins so that your finished product "sets".  Kind of like jello, which is made from animal proteins.  Geddit?  So, your role, once you've turned the stove Bwn, is to stand in front of your pot wearing your thickest skin or long sleeves and prepare to try not to get splattered by boiling hot proto-polenta while you stir it continuously (stir always in the same direction because that will help you not get splattered as much, especially as the polenta gets closer to being finished) for thirty minutes OR UNTIL DONE. 

Yes, I threw down the "until done" card.  I already broke one rule and mentioned organic chemistry in this post with the protein denaturing, so I might as well go all out.  Organic chemistry and "until done" do kind of go together, maybe because food is made mainly of organic compounds.  Unlike non-organic chemistry, which tend to happen on a predictable and invariable schedule, organic reactions happen as a law unto themselves.  So it is with cooking.  Sometimes "done" might be shorter than thirty minutes, sometimes it might be longer.  You just kind of have to eyeball it. 

So, what does "until done" look like, since eyeballing it is your best bet?  Well, first of all, you will have reduced the volume in your pot to about half what you started with.  But that's not all, because that will happen considerably before your polenta is really done.  But when that happens, it's time to really watch while you're stirring.  So basically, as you stir and stir you will notice that the surface of the polenta will start to become glossy.  Also, you will notice that, as you stir, instead of the bubbles that form popping and splattering, they will rupture and deflate without splashing and with the majority of the bubble remaining intact.  At this point, I leave it up to you.  When you feel that your polenta is nice and thick and creamy, pour it into a greased pan and let it set, which will take around 15-20 minutes.  At this point you'll be able to slice it.  Enjoy!