Happy 4th!

It's the Fourth of July! The day for us Americans to show how awesome we are by declaring our greatness and blowing things up! Actually, depending on what part of the world you're in, I guess that can be any day....

But this is about food.

And what better way to demonstrate at least one of those things than by preparing seared sesame-crusted tuna with a ponzusake-ginger reduction?

Brilliant!
(and delicious...)

To be honest, I'm not sure how much the cooking method mattered for the main course here, but just to PROVE what patriotic citizens we are, we contributed to our carbon footprint by preparing it on the grill. The charcoal grill. Not one of those commie gas ones.

I served this with grilled corn-on-the-cob spread with mayonnaise. And lime juice and cayenne pepper, but the important part is that we burned the hell out of it and slathered it with fat. So it's barely like eating an actual vegetable at all! Bonus: It's really, really good. Just like eating grilled corn-on-the-cob with butter, but more caloric.

Also some edamame (boiled soy beans), which are really too healthy to mention.

Extra snaps:

Hello. I would like some of that, if it's tuna. I think it's tuna.


Yum. Tuna!


Can I have some more tuna?

Then I made desert:

OKAY, it's a brown sugar Pop Tart topped with whipped cream and berries from our garden. Pop Tarts are Americans. Tarty Americans. Still counts.

Then, for good measure, we blew stuff up.
Because we're America.
And that's what we do.

Seven-layer Bean Dip for the Gods.

Hiya, kids!

Today's recipe is brought to you by Nathan Fillion. Turns out TV's Rick Castle, Capt. Mal, and Joey Buchanan (the Joey Buchanan); and the interweb's Capt. Hammer also makes a killer bean dip, and he shared the recipe with little ol' Me!!!!

...And the rest of the Twitterverse, but let's just pretend I have some inside information and move on.

Seven-layer Bean Dip for the Gods

Ingredients (in order) :

A can of vegetarian "refried" beans
(I used the whole can before realizing that this recipe probably serves 20 people... Also, did you know that canned refried beans don't resemble beans at all? It's like a paste sort of dealie.)

A package of taco seasoning mixed with some low fat sour cream (Half a pack mixed with half a container - from here on the ingredients are more judiciously thought out.)

Diced fresh tomatoes. I used two, cleaned and seeded.

Guacamole. In this case, pre-packaged.

Diced green chiles, evenly distributed.

Sliced black olives. also equally distributed.

Shredded Mexican Cheese mix. As much as you want.
... Seriously, As Much as you want.

Pretty sure this is supposed to feed more than five people, but results are results:



Sampled conversation from those enjoying this "appetizer":

"Oh, good - you're here. Just in time, 'cause we've already eaten half of this stuff."
"This is really good."
"Really good."
"We should go outside - it's gorgeous out."
"Mm."
"Who's recipe did you say this was?"
"It's really good."
"OK, so why don't we go outside..."
"Yeah, maybe. What's the creamy stuff?"
"Low fat sour cream with taco seasoning."
"This is really good."
"...We could take the dip outside...?"

Cauliflower Soup

A while back, Matt and I decided we needed to eat more cauliflower. Or any cauliflower. At all. It's way under-used and it's really good for you, we really like it, but we never eat it.

So last time I was at the market, I picked up a head of the stuff.


And began wondering what to do with it.

I didn't want to just steam it or boil it, because let's face it - that's pretty boring. I eventually decided on a gratin, but with the advent of a new batch of crab mac'n'cheese, my gratin dish was suddenly unavailable. So for days, I'd eye the thing wearily every time I opened the refrigerator, hoping it didn't go bad before I could come up with a solution. Then, suddenly it dawned on me:

I should like to try some cauliflower soup.

I searched the web for a few minutes until I found a recipe I thought I could work with and took off. Here's what I ended up with (measurements of the spices are approximate, as I was eyeballing most of them):

1 large head of cauliflower, stemmed, cored, and broken up into medium-small florets
4 whole garlic cloves, peeled
1 TBS dried thyme
1 TBS ground ginger (maybe a little more)
1 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
salt and pepper to taste

Put all of the above in a pot with a tablespoon of butter and a tablespoon of oil. Stir to coat the veggies with all of the yummy spicy goodness. When things start sizzling, lower the heat a bit, cover, and let things sweat for about 10 minutes.

Then add: 1 quart of chicken stock.

Allow to come to a boil, uncovered, over medium heat.

When boiling, add: 2 cups whole milk

Allow to come to a boil, uncovered, over medium heat.

Transfer everything to a food processor (or blender, or use a stick blender thingy), then FREAK OUT MUCHLY as you watch all of your carefully crafted broth leak swiftly out of the bottom of the machine.

Salvage the situation by quickly placing the entire machine over the pot that held the broth in the first place. Recover from heart attack, clean up the leaked liquid (which turned out to be not that much, all things considered), then try again.

Puree soup until smooth.

(Unless you have some sort of monster industrial machine, you'll likely have to puree in multiple batches.)

Return soup to pot.

Add: 1/2 cup plain yogurt, stirring to fully incorporate.

Bring soup back up temperature and adjust seasonings, which may include but is not limited to a small amount of malt vinegar, for brightness.

Serve, garnished with some shredded white cheddar cheese (popping under a broiler, optional) and a drizzle of good olive oil. In my case, some really good olive oil. More on that later.

It's really hard to take an appetizing pic of white food.
I think I did a pretty good job.

Can't Cook; Knitting.

^
Cassette Tape Cases

...What?

My hobbies tend to run in cycles, and apparently I'm in a knitting phase. I've knit booties for every pregnant woman I know, then moved on to a limited run of 20 cassette cases for a future release of Matt's to be titled Stranded.

Now I'm done with that, and yet STILL in a knitting mood. Considering hitting ETSY up...

But, because this is a food blog, I'll mention this:

(Have I mentioned I need a better camera?)

In a medium hot skillet, toast some panko bread crumbs with some olive oil until medium brown, then toast some pumpkin seeds 'til they're plump and golden.

For the sauce:

1-2 tbs. Chili/Garlic/Lime Oil
1/2 jar Marinated Artichoke Hearts, with liquid
Capers
(CAPERS!!!!!!!) ... to taste, I suppose
a knob of butter

Add cooked pasta of choice, toss, and turn off the heat

Add grated Parmesan
Add toasted panko bread crumbs and toasted pumpkin seeds
Toss
Serve

HELL to the YEAH.

I won't brag or anything, but I did hear the words "best pasta I've ever had in my entire life" escape my hubby's lips. I don't agree, necessarily, but I'll take it. ;-)

Tweaked.

Hola.

Yes, I'm still alive.

It's just that Winter Mia is boring and mainly reliant on pre-packaged foods, much to her chagrin.

BUT: This weekend I decided to tackle a recipe for Asiago & Crab Mac 'n' Cheese, recently presented by my friend the former B.J. Sexton, who has also graciously granted me permission to use her maiden name when I embark on my much-anticipated porn career.

This is the first ever recipe that I've made adjustments to prior to trying it out as written. B.J. made it and remarked that it needed more flavor, so I felt safe in playing around with it. Following is the original recipe with my adjustments in brackets:

1 pound small or medium sized pasta
3 TBS butter
3 TBS flour
1 tsp smoked paprika [2 tsp Ras el Hanout, a Moroccan spice blend available through Williams-Sonoma]
Salt, to taste
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1/2 cup milk
2 TBS Dijon Mustard [Grey Poupon's Country Dijon, made with coarsely ground mustard]
1 1/2 cups (12 oz.) evaporated milk
2 cups Asiago cheese, shredded [1 1/2 cups Asiago + 1/2 cup sharp white cheddar, shredded]
16 oz lump crab meat [crab claw meat, as that's what they had...]
[approx. 1/4 tsp freshly grated nutmeg]
Panko bread crumbs, for garnish [Panko + approx. 1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese]
Fresh Italian parsley, minced, for garnish [left out]

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees (F). Bring large pot of water to a boil, add [salt and] pasta and cook according to the directions on the package. Drain and set aside.

In a medium pan, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the flour, smoked paprika, salt and pepper; stir until smooth. Add the milk, mustard, and evaporated milk; whisk together until slightly thickened.

Whisk in the Asiago cheese, stirring until smooth. Stir in crab meat. Pour the cheese and crab sauce over the drained pasta, stir gently to combine. Pour into a lightly oiled or buttered [...I think I forgot to do this step] baking dish with a lid [or, you know - a supply of aluminum foil]. Top with a [generous] sprinkle of bread crumbs and parsley.

Cover and bake about 15 minutes, then uncover and cook until hot and bubbly, about 10 to 15 additional minutes. [Then realize that the breadcrumbs have gained no color what so ever, dot with approx. 2 TBS of butter, and cook for an additional 5 minutes.]

RESULT:

(Here paired with roasted asparagus.)

This stuff is PHENOMENAL. Just the right blend of savory-sweet and spicy. AND it's the only mac 'n' cheese I've ever had that heats up well, even in the flippin' microwave. Serious.

TRY IT.

Although next time, I might pan fry the bread crumbs before I put them on top, because even though it tastes fantastic, it's just way too... white.

We're up to our ears in... CANELES.

(...or: CANNELLES, depending on your spelling preference.)

My birthday is comming up on the 15th of this month.

Last week, as a present, my mom sent me six MORE canele molds, meaning I now have a full dozen. When I called to thank her, she said to be expecting something else in the post this week.

I thought that was very generous, but I didn't expect the "something else" to be ACTUAL CAN(N)EL(L)ES, ready to be thawed and crisped in the oven, from my favorite gourmet food catalog Mackenzie, Ltd.

Geez, mom - obsess much?

:-P

Thank you so much!
Wonderful present!

(Also had tons of fun playing with the dry ice in which the mechandise was packaged. Got a little dizzy. Don't tell anyone.)

"Rendezvous at Williams Junction"

Ten-thirty at night and already an hour behind schedule. All outside the car was inky black, save for a few punctuations from passing streetlights. A frantic, steady click-clack from underneath as the train strived to make up time. As I scrunched up in my seat trying to rest and stave off panic, there came a soft knock at our cabin door.

"Mr. and Mrs. Buck? Will you need help with your luggage?"

"Erm, no, we should manage," my husband replied.

"We should arrive at the junction in about ten minutes. Gather your things and meet down by the entrance door."

Most peculiar.

Was this a sort of secret stop, unknown to the other passengers? No announcement made. No public preparations demonstrated.

We gathered our things, as directed, and found ourselves in the fluorescent-lit common way, fumes from the locomotive swirling about as we wondered if we were obeying a dream.

Slowly the train came to a stop, and we were ushered onto the ground. An unmarked white van awaited, highlighted by a single pole light, eerily blue in the midst of a gravel field. We stumbled forward, weary and exhausted from the previous days' travel.

We did not trust the situation.

Here in the middle of no where, in what we could only presume was Arizona, delivered to an unknown person…

More travelers emerged from other cars, bolstering our confidence for a bit. So we boarded the van, which seemed at least to be in manageable mechanical condition. Though it was dark - very dark - inside.

"Welcome to Williams Junction!" said the jolly man behind the wheel. He might have been Santa's more sinister cousin. "That there's our only train stop - we used to have a depot, but it burned down."

We drove down roads in ill repair, bordered by forests so dark and thick that only the nearest trunks stood out in white silhouettes against the overwhelming blackness. There was nervous laughter amongst the passengers. And jokes concerning The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Which didn't help.

"There's our Bear amusement park," our driver announced as he turned a corner, "They're planning on getting a couple o' grizzlies here soon, and they have some browns and blacks already… And this here's ol' Route Sixty-Six."

And, as disconcerting as the rest of the trip and narrative had been, I was immediately struck with a sense of wonder. Forget the ominous conditions and the amusement park centered around live bears for some reason - we were traveling down Route 66. I looked to the sides of the road - the two-lane road that was much too narrow for today's cars, pock-marked by today's heavy loads and neglect - and I saw diners and old gas stations and pool halls tiny enough to fit into our coat closet at home.

I blame the resulting tears on lack of sleep.

Then the van made another turn and we were in front of a warmly lit lodge, in which awaited modern conveniences and the most comfortable beds on the planet. We curled up, safe at last, and fell dead asleep.