Things I have canned since Thanksgiving. Also, I baked.

So, I bought two turkies for Thanksgiving, whic is far more than meets our Thanksgiving dinner needs. We can get along with a 10 pound bird and still have a few days of turkey sandwhich and turky cassarole and all the other ongoing turkey dinners that happen once the main feast is history. It's just M and me, nowdays.

But, at about 60¢ a pound, the brilliant frugal opportunity for lots of meals in jars was not to be passed up.  So I fired up the pressure canner.

And, of course, other meats went on seasonal sales, so other things got canned along the way, as well. And, of course, I acquired a few extra turkey carcasses along the way, because people who love me and invite me to share a post-holiday meal also offer me the still useful carcasses if they are not planning on using them.

So I canned a lot. I'm still canning. This year, the holiday season has been the canning season.

This post is meant mostly to list what I made--I have actually begun to forget because there were just so many things. I don't want to have to go through my jars every time I want to recall. I also need to make notes about what I did because I do not want to forget when I want to replicate something that is successful.

1. Chili (ground beef, and the regular USDA recipe with mushrooms added and a mix of green and jalapeno peppers)
2. Turkey white bean chili (Canning for Dummies recipe using turkey versus chicken)
3. Northwoods chili (which was the same chili recipe as above with turkey and Northwoods Fire seasoning swapped for beef and chili powder)
4. Pork (shoulders were on sale) chili verde
5. Curry Turkey Mushroom starter*
6. Tikka Masala turkey

• This was a huge winner for M; it's turkey, mushrooms, and a canning recipe for Tikka Masala. The fresh ginger really makes it. I did not have a garum masala so I used this recipe to make it, and this worked nicely.  I enjoyed this straight up, but it can be finished with coconut milk (or other dairy/nondairy thing you prefer) for more creaminess and a closer-to-Asian-Indian taste.

7. Turkey soup*

• Version 1: turkey broth, carrots, potatoes, peas, corn, onion, turkey.
• Version 2: turkey bone broth, mushroom base, turkey, corn, peas, onions, carrots, salt, pepper, garlic. 
• Version 3: turkey bone broth, turkey, potatoes, carrots, celery, onions, salt, pepper. 

8. Turkey in broth
9. Turkey Pot Pie starter

• This is based on this chicken pot pie starter recipe. However, I do not use clear-gel in anything. When I'm prepping this for eating, I add flour to the milk and then add the milk-flour combination to the chicken pot pie starter. I am also just as likely to serve this over noodles or served as a cottage pie as put it in a double crust.

10. Zuppa Toscana soup starter (swapping turkey for the usual meat)
11. "Italian Sausage" and Lentil Soup

• This recipe suggests putting the raw ingredients in a jar, but I preferred to make the soup and then jar it; the lentils were only slightly cooked before going into the jar, to keep them from becoming mush.  This worked out fine for us. I swapped turkey and an added a spoon of Italian sausage seasoning for actual Italian sausage

12.  Turkey Unstuffed Cabbage Soup
13. Split Pea (turkey and a little liquid smoke to sub for ham)
14. Sweet and sour pork (included some jalapeno as well as green pepper)

• I'm hugely frustrated because I can't find the recipe I JUST USED to can this, so I will note that it was a raw pack recipe using pork, fresh pineapple, onions, green pepper, salt, and water. It was much less complicated than the other sweet/sour recipes for canning that I found, and it had no spices to speak of, which I thought could be good for allowing different spice blends to be used on the day one cooks it up for actual eating. 

15. Modified meatball soup

• I did not make the meatballs the way I would usually do for this treasured family recipe, since they call for eggs. However, this lovely blog has an older recipe for canning meatballs that does include egg. I am comfortable with canning some recipes that were once approved but which are no longer USDA standard; this recipe looks comfortable to me. Your mileage may vary.**

16. Turkey Cacciatore (based on this, but with red wine added and turkey, of course)
17. Pepper Mushrooms in Tomato Sauce (because I bought way too many)

I had different grades of broth from the turkeys this year; there was the broth that just came off the baked turkey, the broth that came from cooking the carcass in the instant pot the first time, and the broth that came from cooking the carcass in the instant pot a second time. I just did not want to go to the trouble of roasting the bones or cooking the bones for a week, I just wanted serviceable broths to provide additional nutritional value and a base flavor that was going to blend well with the veggies and spices. I ended up using the broth that just came off the turkey for recipes that had beans in it, and the second-instant-pot broth for recipes without beans. The first-instant-pot cooking broth got mixed as needed for either application, but the more cooked the bones were, the more calcium is in the broth, and it is my understanding that calcium can toughen beans. If I am wrong in this, no harm done, but if I am right, then, no tough lentils, white beans, kidney beans, or pinto beans.

I also did some baking. It's pretty clear that my oven really can not bake anything that requires timing because it's old and whatever temperature regulation system, whatever heat-keeping materials it is constructed with are done for. I don't know if I want to see if it can be refurbished or if I just want to buy something new. In any event, the julekake and family-specific version of Irish soda bread took so long to cook that the flour browned in the bread. It's toasted now. Still tasty and edible, but not the lovely breads they were supposed to be,  I made sandbakklers and as I do not own the tins for it, I usually roll them flat and cut them, but this year, I rolled them in wax paper,  chilled them completely, sliced them to about 1/8th of an inch, and baked them that way. I like that better. And Aunt Jo was right; they really need to be made with butter, not margarine or, heaven forbid, vegetable shortening.

Side remarks:

*Lots of things are made based on the USDA soup instructions.  It's a soup engine rather than a recipe; you use whatever single ingredients for which the USDA provides processing times. However, I do not like the thin product produced by the recipe/engine, so I usually fill the jars completely and process 75 min for pints and 90 for quarts.


**Because this is a public post and the canning community is full of people who are willing to fight with you about USDA canning versus NON-USDA canning practices (and my ghod, you don't want to see that argument play out between, say, an American USDA devotee and a German "Look, it's not my country, it's not my government, and who the hell are you to tell me what to do, anyway?" NON-USDA devotee), I will emphasize that meatball recipes that are USDA compliant only have the meat and some spices in them. If you are uncomfortable with any non-USDA tested recipes, don't follow this one. I make decisions for me, you make decisions for you, and any comment that tells me I am going to kill my family because OMG BOTULISM will be promptly deleted, because I don't need the drama.


Man, this is much longer than I meant it to be. It's a good thing this is not a lifestyle blog, because this would have been about 20 different entries, one for each recipe and a few for the miscellaneous comments I made for my record keeping.

Chickpea Salad Sandwiches and a Moroccan Spiced Sauce

Call it an exercise in frugality.

Or call it MultiSupper.

Or call it Chickpea Salad, my dudez.

Over the past few years, I have cooked up some very plain thing to serve as a meal centerpiece for myself, so I don't have to come home from work and cook from scratch every night, but so I am also not committed to eating potato soup for the rest of the week. This Sunday's "Very Plain Thing" was a mess of chickpeas, carrots, salad potatoes, and sauteed mushrooms. When I was finished cooking it all, I had about 2.5 quart jars of the mix, plus about 2, maybe 2.5 cups of cooking liquid.

So the first supper was comprised of the chickpea-veggie mix, in a sauce, and over basmati rice. I did not get a picture of it, alas, because we just ate it too quickly. Michael took one bite and said, "Did you write this down?"

Always a sure sign of a winner.

Not the Very Plain Thing, mind you. The sauce. 

Thus was born the need for a name. See, sometimes things Mike likes and wants to be sure I write down are things that may never happen again, because lame ass reasons. However, this one he will ask for again, because he has been discussing how he applied the leftovers of this dish to other dishes and how those leftovers improved whatever the heck it was he was adding them to.

 Dried chickpeas cooked in salted water, sauteed mushrooms, rice, and steamed tiny potatoes and carrot chunks are not things I am going to forget how to make any time soon. So the sauce is the imperative part, and the part that must be written down.

Moroccan Spiced Sauce

To leftover cooking liquid, add chicken base (I usually use the better than bullion type), milk, nootch, a little olive oil, and plain yogurt. Cook this smooth, then add at least a teaspoon of Moroccan Memories spice blend, more if you like (we like more). Let this simmer. When the flavors have blended, thicken with flour. If needed, add more spice blend (since thickeners often reduce the flavor of the sauce) and let it simmer a bit longer, stirring all the while. This sauce really benefits from a little time for the flavors to really cook together.

I was making it up as I went along, cooking to taste, so I can't give precise amounts. It was cooking liquid from cooking dried garbanzo beans, carrots, and potatoes, cooked in my cast iron skillet, the lovely skillet that had sauteed the mushrooms and so had a little ghost of flavor from that, too. I used the nootch to give it a little more umami, but you really have to be careful with the nootch, it initially overpowered the veggie water and chicken stock blend. 

Because I started with about 2.5 cups of cooking liquid, I ended up with about 3.5 cups of sauce. I poured them over 1.5 quarts of the chickpea-veggie mix, so there was plenty of sauce for the rice, too.

I had intended to make veggie burgers with the remaining quart of garbanzo-veggie blend, but I was just too tired to go to that effort.   So I made a chickpea salad sandwich.

A Chickpea Salad
Mash about 1.5 cups of cooked chickpea-veggie mix. Add 2-3 spoonfuls of your preferred type of mayo-type spread. Mix. Add 1-3 splashes of liquid smoke (I used the hickory liquid smoke). Mix. Add 1/4 teaspoon (or more to taste) of Turkish Delight. Even eaten right away, it's nice. A little time for the flavors to meld merely makes a different kind of tasty. 

I ate it on rye bread, which was actually a little too strong for the dressing, so I felt I had to make another small batch for my lunch tomorrow, so's I can test it out as a sandwich on some cracked wheat bread. Oh, darn, gotta eat this again. Just, darn.

Notes on eating when it's so hot that....

Cooking feels like volunteering for Hell.

We are wilting now, and we are awash in tomatoes. Yummy, yummy tomatoes.

I am trying to make things that are good cold, and that Mikey will eat. He's not a fussy eater, mind you, but since I so often cook by the seat of my pants, I do try to recall what worked for both of us versus what did not.

So, what I made this weekend:

1. Turkey sandwiches. There is really nothing to be said about this except I used nasturtium leaves instead of lettuce and that was nice and peppery. I know, I know, not vegetarian. I guess it is fair to say that I am an omnivore who tries to eat significantly less meat than the American diet usually calls for. Meat as a flavoring agent if used, not meat as the foundation of all meals. Omni

2. Fresh Salsa, based on this recipe. I don't really know anyone who does not rave about fresh salsa, but I found it bland and cilantro-y. M liked it a lot. With tortilla chips and M's guacamole  it made an adequate cold meal, Vegan.

3. Gazpacho based on this recipe. M's verdict is that it is not really different from the salsa above, and I would agree. I liked this better because it had no cilantro and I added celery to the mix, but the spice profile is quite similar to the salsa. I will make it again, because it is cold, juicy, tomatoey goodness, but I think I might try a middle eastern or an Italian spice profile, instead. And celery imparts a nice, crunchy freshness to it, so it stays added in. Also, I did not waste my time with skinning and seeding the maters, It was fine. Piscetarian--sub soy or vegan Worcestershire sauce to make it vegan.

4. 7 dairy vegetable soup. This was the only thing I made that actually had to be cooked, but I prepared the veggies in the rice cooker on the porch, so the only stove time was that spent making the soup base.. .about 5 minutes to actually cook. This was really quite good both warm and cold, and it is mildly spiced so that .... say it with me now.... the individual eating it can spice it to their preferred flavor profile. I like Tabasco, the grandkids like bland, M likes Italian. One base dish, 87 variations as needed with no extra work on my part. Anyway, I have to write this one down, because it was made up on the fly.

• Cooked veggies. I used, in order from most to least, red potatoes, carrots, celery,  mushrooms, broccoli, peas. 
• Enough cream of cheese soup to turn the whole pot into an actual cream of veggie soup. This soup base was the seven dairy kind: Water, milk, butter, buttermilk, mozzarella cheese, extra sharp cheddar cheese, pepper jack cheese, Swiss cheese. Flour for thickening. Onion powder, garlic powder, salt, pepper.
• Mix it all together and call it soup. I have also been thinking it would work pretty nicely as a savory pie filling 

Like I said, pretty mild in the spice department. I wanted to note that I really enjoyed the texture of the veggies after they were cooked in the rice cooker versus the way they would have come out if boiled.  I just needed to put in just enough water to cover them and then let the rice cooker do its thing. Lacto-ovo vegitarian, make a soup base from water, plant-based milk, margarine, nooch, flour, spices to make it vegan.

5. Shrimp Supper Sandwiches. Another one I made on the fly and so have to write it down. It was based on the idea of tea sandwiches, but I am not going to waste my time cutting it to delicate little finger snacks. This was: On toasted bread (M gets Whole Wheat, I had Rye, both were good), thin spread of mayo with a touch of chipotle seasoning. Cover with sliced cucumbers. Mix Neufchâtel cheese with cooked and peeled and tailed salad shrimp and lots of chives. Spread this on your bread. Ta-da, sammich fer supper. Add an apple and you have a cold meal. M felt the balance of shrimp filling to cuke was out of whack, wanted either more cuke or less filling, but was quite happy to eat it as it was and asked that it get moved into the cold meal rotation.  Piscetarian. I can't think of a way to veganize it without altering it so significantly that I could not eat it, but if one wanted a similar sandwich, one might try blending tofu, nori, and chives.  A furikake seasoning might be nice, too, but DIY to be sure it is vegan.

A Falafelish to Remember

MMMMmmmm... Falafelish

So, I cooked up a mess of dried chickpeas. MMMM, chickpeas. I've gotten lazy about soaking them: just throw them in a slow cooker and add water and let 'em cook all night, and there you have it, beans. I had planned to make hummus and a stew or soup, but it turns out that I had a little more than I expected when all was said and done. I asked Michael whether he wanted chick pea burgers or a soup, and his reply was "falafel."

Well, now, that wasn't a choice, in large part because I do not know how to make it.

But, thanks to the magic of the internet, I managed something falafel-ish. Falafelish.

It's based on a combination of these two recipes on epicurios.com. I'm writing my process down not because I feel I improved on either recipe, but because both recipes state that you can used canned--and thus implying cooked--chickpeas.

Yeah. You can't.

Furthermore, I am one of those folks who hate cilantro, so substitutions were required.

Here we are:

• 1 or more cups cooked chickpeas. I measured out 4 quarter cups of my cooked chickpeas, but it seemed rather like more than a cup.
• 1 small onion, diced (about 1/2 cup)
• 2 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped
• 1 tablespoon carrot greens, chopped
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 teaspoon ground coriander
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon dried red pepper flakes (Of course I used Arwen's Dynamite for the Soul)
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 4 tablespoons of chick pea flour
• enough plain breadcrumbs to be able to form patties with the whole mess above
• About 6 cups vegetable oil for frying

Throw everything but the breadcrumbs into a blender or a food processor. Whirl that shit to pieces--it's going to be too wet to stop from forming a mash, but don't turn it into baby food. Let the chickpea mash rest in the fridge for about an hour.

When the mash has finished resting, add breadcrumbs. You are going to have to add them by feel, because there is no telling how wet a particular mash is going to be. You have added  enough breadcrumbs when you can roll the mixture into a ball (about the size of a golfball, per the other recipes, but I think mine were a bit smaller) and then flatten it to a patty and still be able to get it off your hands intact.

Heat the oil in a heavy frying pan. Add the patties, cook 'em, and drain 'em.

They were oddly pleasing, with a nice soft inside and a crispy outside, and Michael keeps eating them off the plate, suggesting that I may have to make something else for dinner tonight. Because they will be gone.

Notes regarding Michael and Kraut

Okay, one of the most difficult things to get Michael to eat is any kind of sauerkraut. On the other hand, I make a lot of collard kraut. I love collard kraut, but Michael, not so much. Not this year, but next year, there will be all kinds of Kraut — kale Kraut, turnip Kraut, cabbage Kraut, mixed Brassica Kraut — and I have to figure out ways to get Michael to eat it.

This is what I made tonight, and Michael ate it happily.

Open and drain a jar of Kraut. Add the drained Kraut to a pan containing a pound of fresh Polish sausage and water enough to boil it all. Cook this until the Polish sausage is properly parboiled. Remove the sausages and finish preparing them as you desire; tonight, I cut them in half longwise and lightly fried said to give them crispy outsides. Chop a whole onion, sauté it in a combination of butter and olive oil. Again, drain the Kraut, and add it to the sautéed onions. Continue sautéing until the mixture is lightly coated with olive oil and butter in the onions tender. Spice it in a way that will be compatible with the Polish sausage seasoning; I used pepper and a balti spice blend. Since the Kraut will still be slightly salty even after this cooking, don't add salt. If the individuals eating this feel it needs more salt best to let them add their own.

Michael enjoyed this quite a lot he chopped up his sausage into little bits mixed it all into the Kraut and onion side dish and when I asked him if I should remember how I did this, he said yes.

Obviously he said yes. Otherwise I wouldn't be writing this, right?

Just some quick notes

Jelly made with herbs, wine, and apple juice

Notes to myself on the above jellies:

A) Low Sugar Apple Mint: A standard low sugar apple jelly recipe, but juice infused with mint.

1. Organic apple juice from Aldi
2. Probably 3 cups of mint from my garden
3. sugar
4. lemon juice
5. pectin, low sugar type
6. smidge of unsalted butter

... and the jelly tastes good, but it did not set the first time. I followed the instructions here and was able to eventually achieve a soft set. It tastes good, waaaay minty, and there is a lot of it, because I followed a standard apple jelly recipe. It is also a little grainy, which I think results from the additional pectin that had to be used.

Next time, just use a regular sugar recipe. 

B) Apple Sage Jelly: based on the instructions for herb jelly found at the U of Oregon extension, here. 

1. 2 Cups Organic Apple Juice
2. 1 Cup rhine wine
3. sage, more than a cup
4. sugar
5. lemon juice
6. pectin
7. smidge of unsalted butter

C) Borage Tarragon

1. Rhine wine
2. lemon juice
3. borage leaves
4. tarragon leaves
5. sugar
6. pectin
7. smidge of butter

The borage leaves were completely overwhelmed by the taste of the white wine; if I want to do that, I will have to use water. Anyway, I re-infused the jelly with the tarragon, which was able to stand up to the wine.

D) Lemon Verbena

1. Lemon verbena leaves
2. lemon juice
3. Rhine wine
4. pectin
5. sugar

This is a very nice one, and both C and D are based on a recipe from the NYT, here. 

It's scrambled again.

TEMPEH SCRAMBLE: as the tempeh gets older, stronger flavors develop, and I don't always enjoy them. I have found that marinating the tempeh in a combination of lemon juice and soy sauce is enough balance to counteract the aged tempeh flavor. Aged tempeh may be a delicacy in Indonesia, but I'm a Norwegian living in Wisconsin. I'm pretty sure that some of my "native" delicacies might not find favor with the Indonesians. It's a fair trade, don't you think?

Anyway, this is what this particular scramble consists of:

Tempeh marinated in soy sauce and lemon juice.
A whole yellow onion
A generous amount of olive oil
About a cup and a half of previously steamed mustard and beet greens

The night before (or a couple of days before, if you like) slice tempeh into strips and marinate it with  a soy sauce and lemon juice mixture. Cover and place in the refrigerator. When you're ready to eat, pour a generous amount of olive oil into your wok and let it start to heat while you chop up the onion. Put the onion into the oil and give it a good stir. Cut or break the tempeh up into small pieces, then toss it in with the onions and cook to your preferred level of doneness; I like the onions to be translucent and the tempeh slightly browned. Add the mixed greens and stir long enough to incorporate the green throughout the rest of the dish and heat the greens through.

Like pretty much everything else I cook, tempeh scramble is really more of a process than a recipe. The only thing sure is the tempeh. Given that I like my tempeh scramble with lots of greens in it you can usually assume that there will be some, but you can't always be sure. Sometimes I like to make it with carrot and broccoli and hot peppers. Sometimes I like just Swiss chard and almonds, and seasoning the tempeh/nut/Swiss chard mixture with Worchestershire sauce and nutritional yeast and garlic. Today's scramble didn't need any seasoning; the combination of mustard greens and marinated tempeh was fabulous on its own.

And yes, I did make that strawberry jam! I used the low sugar recipe available in the .pdf from the Wisconsin extension, here.

Curry Cocozelle, Baharat Beans, and Georgia Bibimbap

Food in jars!

 

That's right. I'm sick. But I still have to eat, so the super easy cookery came out yesterday and this is what I named the dishes at the end of the day.

Oh, man, who am I kidding? I'm always a super easy cook. It only has to be good, it does not have to be extravagant, right?

And because I am under the weather, and because I cook to taste most of the time, these recipes have only approximations. Just like Medieval cookery.  Just like the cooking you've learned from your nana.

That's me, everyone's nana.

Curried cocozelle

Chop a large onion and three-4 large, ripe beefsteak tomatoes . Peel, deseed, & chop a giant  cocozelle.   Smaller cocozelle can be used whole; chop 4-6 small ones--enough to make 4 cups of prepared squash .

Fry the onions in some olive oil. Add the tomatoes and enough water to make a broth— about ½ cup to 2 cups. Seethe the onions and tomatoes for 5 minutes over medium fire, then add the prepared cocozelle. Cover and let the mixture cook until the squash is just a little harder than you like. Add curry powder to taste. Let cook a few minutes more until squash is done and serve.

 

The center and the right to jar above contain this soup . It's a bright orange not because of the  turmeric  in the curry powder, but because of the tomato mixture I used. One of the joys of using your homegrown tomatoes is that you get to experience a wide variety of tomato tastes and colors! So yesterday I used an Aunt Ruby German Green tomato, a Crismon Cushion tomato, and two Amana Orange tomatoes. It's definitely a tomato flavor, without being the typical red sauce you get from the store.  Also, the curry mixture I used was Capricorn Moon from Auntie Arwen.

 

 

Pinto Beans in their own Bayat Baharat gravy

 

Take dried pinto beans and boil them in enough  vegetable stock (or water, or combination of both) to cook them to the al dente stage.  Add salt, pepper, and continue to cook until the beans are quite soft and beginning to break down into the cooking liquid. Add a Baharat powder to taste  and cook down until the bean broth is the consistency of gravy.

 

 

I used Arwen's Ibraham's Mom's Bayat Baharat blend. This blend has a strong cinnamon component, which is very good with cooked grains or injera.  It appears in the picture above in the smaller jars.

Georgia Bibimbap

Heat olive oil in a wok. Chop a large onion.  Chop green tomatoes, as many as you like. sauté the onions and the green tomatoes in olive oil; cook until the tomatoes are soft enough to eat.  Add  soy sauce as needed, a tablespoon of nutritional yeast, and mix. Set aside. Scramble an egg (or otherwise prepare an alternative protein). Set aside. Place cooked rice (preferable a day old, but just made is fine) in a bowl. Arrange the egg, the green tomato mixture, and some collard kraut on top of the rice. Serve with more soy sauce and hot pepper sauce.

Bibimbap is a classic Korean dish. I have been making all kinds of  versions of bibimbap  since the early 80's, something I learned to do while in the Army. This version, however, features items reminiscent of classic Southern cooking and a homemade kraut made with Georgia collards .  When you get your bowl of rice covered  with vegetables and proteins, you mix it all together.  It ends up looking pretty much like fried rice.

 Other cooking notes

 I made a batch of rhubarb chutney with the last of this year's rhubarb. this year, instead of using canned tomatoes, I used tomatoes from my garden. I used  2 fresh fish peppers from my garden instead of the pepper flakes, and I used coriander seed from my garden. Fish peppers? Strike me as hotter than jalapeno but not as hot as habanero. The chutney is a little spicier this year because of it. And coriander seeds, dried in your garden  instead of out of the jar that's been sitting in a spice warehouse for a couple of year, are uber dandy. I actually went to the trouble of puréeing the end product of this year, as I intend to give a few jars away, and I don't want people to be reluctant to try it because it's chunky.

I've canned tomato sauce this year, much more than I did last year .

I canned strawberry jam this year, and homemade strawberry jam is much better tasting than commercially produced.  However, its shelf life, once opened, is also a lot shorter. Next year, I can half- and quarter pints, not pint jars.

I have resorted to drying turnip greens for winter use this year, as my freezers are now full. For this same reason, I expect I will be making kale kraut and am planning to try fermented green tomatoes.

Oh, and tempeh scramble! Whee, my new favorite breakfast. Jodi turned me on to making my own tempeh, which is much nicer than store boughten, and if I felt well enough to cook it today, I'd take a picture of that and talk about that, too. But I don't. So I won't.

Summer stuff in my Tsardust Fried Rice.

I made a variation on the Tsardust theme, and Michael mentioned it especially tonight. "Did you write that down?" he asked, and so here I am.

Olive oil to saute a poblano pepper, chopped. When the pepper is al dente, toss in some chopped fresh cabbage, a 1/2 cup of drained collard kraut, and a cup of cooked dandelion greens. When heated through, add 2 cups of cooked rice (I had leftover jasmine rice, this time) and a quarter to a half cup of whole raw almonds. Saute this mixture a bit. Throw in a tablespoon of Magi seasoning, a tablespoon of nutritional yeast, and a heaping teaspoon of Tsardust Memories.

I was particularly pleased that he liked this, because it contains dandelion greens and collard kraut. This batch of collard kraut is a little too salty-fermenty for most people straight out of the jar, but I have found that when drained and tossed into a dish, no one realizes that it's a home ferment. Awesome.

I used the recipe here to make the kraut, sort of. What actually happened is that I used leftover brine from making watermelon pickles and a tablespoon of sugar, so this is probably why it is a little salty. The brine is way more than the teaspoon of salt the original recipe calls for.

For my reference, in case the original site ever goes away, here is the original recipe, as referenced above:

Collards, desired amount. Cut real fine, pack in quart jars, add 1 tsp. salt, 1 tsp. sugar in each jar. Pour boiling water in each jar. Run knife on each side in jar to get the air bubbles out. Make sure the jar is full of water; seal and it should be ready in 2 weeks.

I let it ferment until the collard kraut settled down to clear again (while fermenting, the liquid gets cloudy) and then put it in the fridge to stop the ferment.

Gawrsh, it makes me happy to eat my yard on such a snowy day.

Faking Pad Thai

So, I'm cooking--which means that I will continue to keep the stove engaged until I have used up all the side product I have created. If you say, huh? then know that if something I have cooked produces something that would usually be disposed--for instance, the water you boiled your pasta in--I will try to use it, until I reach the point where I have so much prepared food that it's past my capacity to eat it before it goes bad. Then such things get frozen, composted, or used to water my plants.

Well, I had some leftover pasta water, and I did not want to pitch it. Oil, salt, water, starch: that's a nice start for a soup.

Which would be why I threw pad thai-style rice noodles in it. Brain cramp!

So this is just a quick note to myself to list what I threw into the pot to make something I would enjoy. I won't remember this, otherwise.

Rice noodles, tossed in hot water and allowed to soften to al dente. Don't actually cook them, let the water do its work.

Stir-fry kale, collards, frozen peas, and a sliced fresh jalapeno in olive oil.

Add an egg, scrambled, and mix it into the stir fry.

Toss in the al-dente noodles.

Add Worcestershire and soy sauce--I have lots of different soy sauces, so for my future reference, I used the one that calls itself Pearl River Bridge Lite Soy Sauce, Reduced Sodium.

Toss.

Enjoy.

Sea Monster Stew

Never mind the crappy picture that looks more like Nessie in a loch of tomato sauce, it was a tasty mctasty dish and Michael asked me to write the recipe down so he could have it again. Unfortunately, this was the only picture I got.

Stuffed peppers that Michael liked.

Based on the recipe here.

3 large green bell peppers
1 lb ground turkey
2-3 large, fresh tomatoes
salt, pepper, smoked paprika to taste.
water as needed
1/4 cup rhubarb chutney
1-2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
1/2 to 2 cups cooked rice (more rice if you are filling more peppers)
Shredded cheese (colby, cheddar)
2-3 cups spaghetti sauce.

cut the tops off the green peppers and clean out seeds, set aside.

Brown the turkey in a sauce pan. Chop the tomatoes. toss tomatoes, spices, water in with the turkey and boil down until tomatoes are cooked and water mostly gone. Add chutney, Worcestershire sauce. mix, adjust any spices if needed. Add rice. Stuff the peppers and place in baking dish. Fill tops with shredded cheese. Thin spaghetti sauce to gravy consistency and pour over peppers and in pan. Bake at 375 until peppers are soft--we prefer at "al dente."


For myself, I'd sub quorn or lentils. Maybe tempeh.

Howdy!

I decided to follow eRecipecards because I would like to see how he does with his "52 Ways to use a rotisserie chicken" project. I have a similar frugal struggle going on, but it's more like "Ways to use EVERY LAST BIT of what you bought."

So, when I cook greens, I drag out an empty peanut container, and pour the potlikker into it. Why? Because empty peanut jars are usually only empty of large piece of peanuts. There is usually a bit of salt and a palmful of small peanut pieces, which, with the potlikker, makes a nice base for cooking rice or other grains. You get a little salt for flavoring, you get a little peanut for flavoring, and you capture all the vitamins and goodies from the greens.

Canned veggies or sea creatures? Pour that canning broth into a jar and save it, and yay, you've got the salt and flavoring base for a pot of beans.

I have not had to buy stock for a while. That is the nature of my project: all the ways the bits left behind can be made to serve. Or made, to be served up. ;-)

Other odd frugal things: replant the root base of onions and leeks into your garden, and ta-da, you get more onions and leeks. I anticipate a greatly reduced need to buy onions and leeks. :-)

But that isn't strictly cooking, so I will move away from that to a squash dish I made the other day:




SPICED ZUKES

1. Chop about 4 cups of fresh zucchini. Sauté in about 2-4 tablespoons of olive oil.
2. When the zucchini has begun to soften, add two chopped tomatoes, lightly sauté, and then add enough water to lightly simmer--1/4 to 1/2 a cup.
3. Add 1 tablespoon of Auntie Arwen's Sheik of the Desert Ras el Hanout.
4. Cover and let simmer until sauce is reduced and zucchini is cooked through to your liking.

Simple. Good.

Rhubarb Chutney

What the hell is this, you might ask?

I'll tell you what it is, it's goddam deliciousness in a jar, that's what it is.

I've harvested the rhubarb and have been wanting to try a recipe for "rhubarb catsup" for some time. Since I have more than enough on hand to make several different things, I tried it. The original is here. My changes are below.

4 cups diced fresh rhubarb
1 large onions, chopped
1 cup white vinegar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
3/4 cup sugar
1 (28 ounce) can crushed tomatoes, undrained
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon Coleman's ground mustard
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
1/4 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon Auntie Arwen's Dynamite for the Soul hot pepper flakes
1 bay leaf, crumbled as finely as possible.

Throw it all in a crock pot. Let it simmer until the rhubarb has disintegrated and the liquid has cooked off to a point just a bit thinner than you like your chutney. This will thicken as it cools. This quantity makes about 5 cups, depending on how much you boil off.

I let mine cook overnight.

It's spicy and bar-be-cue-y. I told Michael it was chutney because I was not sure he would try it if I called it "catsup." Besides, It's chunky. I can't be bothered with mashing the chunks away. Michael loved it.

I told him what it was called. Michael tasted it again and said, "Ketchup? No way, this is a chutney, you called it right, sweetie."

Ah, what a lovely al freco dining experience.

Chitown Taters Soup

Back from vacation and slowly moving into the cooking habit.

This was an accident that made Michael say, "What is this? This is delicious!"

I thought I'd better write it down.

Base:

leftover noodle broth--Michael had prepared himself some egg noddles, and buttered and salted the cooking water--totaled about 6-8 cups. There appeared to be about two tablespoons of butter in the water. It leaves a pleasant flavor and so I added the following:

2 large carrots, sliced
4 large potatoes, chunked, skin on

Bring to a boil, and then simmer until vegetables are almost done. Add

2 onions, peeled and chunked

Simmer until onions are soft. Add

1 cup fat free sour cream or sour cream substitute
1 tablespoon of Penzey's Chicago Steakhouse blend.

Blend in. Now, mix

1-2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/4 cup water

until lump free in a separate bowl, and stir in to simmering soup to thicken. Taste. You may need to add a little more of the Steakhouse blend, and a little more salt at this point--adjust according to your taste.

This produces a soup that has a touch of smokiness and a touch of pepper. Michael ate 3 bowls. I ended up adding about .5 tablespoon of the Steakhouse seasoning and about .5 t of salt after the cornstarch; the addition of the cornstarch does reduce the strength of the spices, and as I love spicy food, I added more of the blend and only a touch more salt, as I tend to not like things with much more than a hint of salt.

It's been a long time

I have been much too busy to explore and discuss cookery these days. It's something of a problem, as a matter of fact, because it means that I have again devolved to eating what I can get cooked quickly and everything is dreadfully bean-brown-mush looking. This is what I have had time and forethought to do.

That should be over for a while. After this morning's horrifying lunch, I really need to consider my cooking again. Pay attention. Have time.

I can say I have learned a few things:

1. I am an indifferent food blogger.
2. I don't really like fava beans as much as I want to.
3. This place is really better as a repository of failure than any kind of world-shattering tool.
4. I'm tired of brown food but my budget is so tight that there is going to be a lot more of it. Yes. Even more.

So, let's talk briefly about popcorn.

Yeah, I know, that's a change. I can eat a whole 16 cups of it at a time. I suppose I could try for more, but I would... no, I won't lie. It's the limit of my favorite pan, that's why I stop at 16. Bad home made popcorn is better than any store-boughten, pre-popped stuff. WHole grain snack goodness that I love, just plain. No butter, minimal salt--you really can't eat that much popcorn AND put all the stuff on it. I'd rather eat more popcorn and do without butter.

Based on some internet research (using the magical and TOTALLY UNEXPECTED search phrase, "how to pop popcorn"), I learned two things:

1. The way I was taught to make popcorn is apparently the best way to do it at home and the horrifying hell of microwave popcorn left a whole generation bereft of this valuable knowledge.

2. You can put salts and spices into the oil before popping instead of after.

So, I tried point #2, as I already had #1 together. Note to self--maybe consider not heating the spices with the oil, put them in right before the popcorn. Note to self 2--this leaves the pan considerably messier--salty and singed spices oh my!

Anyway, as I had a mass of popcorn for dinner last night, I'd best not eat that tonight, There is a limit to the fiber my innards want to deal with at any given time.


So let's talk about almond milk based yogurt instead:

Almande has finally shown up on the shelves of my favorite Outpost--surprisingly, I could not find it at Whole Foods when I was down there a week or so ago--and so I bought some. I have a lovely bunch of yogurt starter sitting in my cupboard, but this product got to my house before I felt the need to experiment with making it myself, so of course, I bought some.

I have mixed feelings about it. It's a ghodsend in that it's a decent yogurt product that is soy free, and the fruit flavored yogurts are fine, better that So Delicious Coconut, my former yogurt-like treat. Unlike the coconut milk yogurts, it tastes like a standard fruit yogurt, not like coconut + blueberries.

Which, I might add, was always pretty much a "meh" combination for me.

I don't have any complaints about the textures, either, as by the time I found it in Milwaukee, a number of the issues identified by earlier customers had been corrected.

But the underlying combination of sour and almond flavor in the vanilla and the plain flavors--the large sizes I would usually buy--are ... ah... odd. Not yogurty enough.

Now, I am sure that seems silly, eh? Almond milk yogurt isn't yogurty enough? Listen, my children, ever since I found Greek Gods Honey flavored Yogurt, all plain or vanilla yogurts are no longer yogurty enough. Because that stuff is my idea of what yogurt should be. Holy man.

Of course, I can hardly ever have it, which is why it's teh sadeness that the Almande, while perfectly acceptable on it's own, isn't even close to as good. However, I'll adjust. Just as I can appreciate a veggie burger for what it is rather than despair over what it isn't (a hamburger!), I will enjoy this for what it is. After all, there were a few years in which it was milk-based, soy-based, or nothing. I usually had nothing for those years.

Notes--Cookery Roundup.

1: Beans for quick! a


So, I make a lot of beans. And here, in far too close detail, is one easy favorite (on injera no less). Black Eyed Peas + Water in Pot + Spices (and when it's going on injera I usually use one of the Ethiopian Berbere blends I got from Auntie Arwen) + Olive Oil + Sauteed Onion. Cook to a slightly mushy consistency.

2: Beans for Quick! b

No pictures yet, just some notes in case this works well. I love sausage. I bought several sausage spice blends from Penzey's, & first try, of course, was the ol' "homaid" seitan sausage, which, as usual, came out tasting amazingly not like sausage. So, two experiments underway: beans spiced appropriately & with a little vegetable. Blend 1: kidney beans, onion, jalapeno, breakfast sausage mix. Blend 2: Navy beans, potatoes, and either bratwurst or Italian, probably Italian. The Italian is a slightly sweeter blend, and so it it will likely be a better match. I experiment with it, choice depending upon whether I roast or boil the potatoes. Roasted taters might be nicer with a "sausage forte" rather than a "sausage douce" blend (a la' poudre forte versus poudre douce. I'm so medieval).

3: Duck eggs!



There we go. Hard boiled, fresh, and boiled and dyed duck eggs. At last, a source. Whether they are regularly there or not I can not say, but given that it's an oriental market, I expect there's a good chance that they're there regularly. They'll stay a treat, though. 79¢ for one egg rather means that I won't be buying them often. I had one fr breakfast with black beans and tortillas the next day, though, how could I not? However the best bit of cookery so far was this lacto-ovo vegetarian medieval nom nom:



Leek & Mushroom Pie. Nom. Nom. Nom. I have the research and stuff gathered for it, but I just haven't felt like writing it up. It's something I have actually made a lot. I just have never presented it as something that I would have other cooks prep up with some assurance that it's SCA appropriate.


I need to get to it soon, though. Then I won't have it on my to-do list.

4: Why Pictures are so often fail for me:



This was a delicious lunch one day in January. I took a picture so that I'd write it down and share, because, again, it was simple and yum. The roasted veggies were delightful and tend to be the same trick used over and over: veggies, olive oil, spice mix. I can't recall which mix I used here, but the nigella seed is pretty obvious, so it was one of only two blends in my spice box. I remember it was okay, but not as good on roasted veggies as other blends. What I really wanted to recall was the fact that I found that broccoli stalks roast well. Peel the woodiest bits off the stalk with a peeler, chunk 'em up the same way you might chunk a carrot, and go forth and roast.

The moment of fail? The quinoa. I can't recall how I treated it. And it was good. Darn. This happens to me all the time. I'm just not diligent about keeping my cookery notes. ::sigh::

Injera.... of the wheat-based, North American sort.

I have a great love for sourdough; it's a fabulous flavor addition that also keeps me from having to buy bread yeast. For years, I have been working at making various kinds of pan-baked flat breads from my sourdough, and would eventually come up with a bunch of varieties that I like. Most Americans think about the sort of thing you can get at IHOP as the only sort of pancakes, but actually, there are lots of different kinds of pancakes, as evidenced by this article in Wikipedia.

Injera is sometimes described as a pancake, sometimes as a flat bread, but whatever you call it, it is a quintessential element of Ethiopian cuisine, and I love it. As I have to regularly feed and eat my sourdough, I decided that an injera (of a sort) was an excellent project.

It took me a number of years to get a reliable rate of return on my experiments. This is not a perfect injera, as it is wheat based and does use a little more leavening than just the yeast in the sourdough, but the results of just sourdough, white flour, and water are too gummy to work well. This method will, however, produce a yummy injera that will work under any stew, or wat, or, really, whatever you might usually eat with bread to soak up sauces in any style of cuisine. Actual working time is not that long, but it is a process, so you'll have to plan for it.

Injera is a process, not a recipe!

1. Feed your sourdough starter the night before. I have a well established sourdough starter that I keep in the refrigerator. Take it out, pour off the liquid that has accumulated at the top (this is the alcohol that the fermenting sourdough has produced. You can stir it back in, but it will make a very sharp flavor that many people don't like. It will also make your starter more liquidy, and will require you to adjust the amount of liquid you add later), and scrape the rest into a plastic, ceramic, or glass bowl with plenty of room. Feed the starter one cup of flour and one cup of warm (but not too hot) water. Stir it up with a non-metal utensil*. Don't worry about lumps, just get it all moist. The bacteria and yeast in the sourdough starter will take care of the lumps. Cover the bowl, set it aside, and go to bed.

The amount of activity you get in your sourdough will relate to the temperature in your kitchen. Heat directly affects how fast the sourdough will rise and fall, with warmer kitchens producing faster rises, but 7-8 hours is usually enough in most North American kitchens to get it into the useful cycle without getting it past the useful stage (where you start producing significant amounts of alcohol).

In the morning, return 1 cup of the starter to a jar and place back into the fridge. The remainder in the bowl is what you have to work with for the injera.

If you don't have an established sourdough starter, you can get one either by following these classic instructions, or by purchasing one of the commercially available starters. Or you can get one from a friend. :-)

2. Measure out your remaining sourdough. I usually end up with between 1 to 1.5 cups. From this point, you must recognize that you are working with an ingredient that will never be as predictable as purchased yeast and be prepared for some flexibility.

3. Gather the things you need: a pan for baking, a liquid, and a baking mix. I have a dedicated, round, non-stick, flat griddle/pancake pan. A round frying pan of any sort will work, but this really works best with some kind of griddle pan, preferably something that won't require you to add a "lubricating" ingredient, like butter or oil.

As for liquid: I use almond milk, as this adds more flavor, more body, and more nutrition than water. Soy milk should work, but I haven't tried it. And for the baking mix: I use Bisquick's Heart Healthy mix, as it lacks milk and egg. There is some soy lecithin in it, but as of this time, it hasn't been a problem for me. If it ever gets to the point where it is, I'll just have to mix my own baking mix. There are plenty of instructions for a homemade baking mix online, so I won't go there now.

4. Add the milk and baking mix to the sourdough in the ratio 1 part sourdough to 1.5 parts milk, 1.5 parts baking mix. Let it rest for 15-30 minutes, to allow the sourdough to begin rising.

5. Heat your pan. Just like regular pancakes, test for heat by shaking a few drops of water on the griddle; they should roll about and jump and dance. Reduce heat slightly if needed--if you are the sort, like me, who heats on high, you'll need to cut that back when actually cooking the pancake. Medium to high-medium should do you for the baking of the injera. When the pan is heated, pour a small amount of the batter on to the hot pan and cook (as described below, beginning with #6).

This is where you must remind yourself that you are working with what is an ever-changing ingredient. What will work perfectly on day 1 will not work perfectly on day 2. The heat in your kitchen, the heat in your pan, the time you let the sourdough rise over night, the time you let the mix rise, et cetera, are a delicate balancing act.

When you finish cooking that test injera, eat it as soon as it is cool enough to eat. You are looking for it to be too thick or too gummy. "Gummy" can't really be described well, but if you ever ate a gumdrop, you know it. This method of making injera should produce, when right off the griddle, a very thin and flexible flat bread with a slightly gummy texture, but that texture should be something that you would eat even if a little gummy--you know, that "It's not perfect, but it's tasty and I can manage" sort of moment. If it's too thick--which is usually evident in the pour--add a little more liquid. If it's too gummy, add a little more baking mix and a little more liquid, and set aside another 10 minutes or so. Keep making little text injera until you are either at the point where you are satisfied with the texture, or you have invested as much of the ingredients as you are willing to invest and are accepting of the fact that this will not be a perfect batch (don't worry, though, you can still eat them, more on that later). Remember, though, the more baking mix and almond milk you add, the less intense the sourdough flavor will be.

6. Pour enough batter on the griddle to make a single, thin (about 1/8 inch) injera. Usually, your batter will land in the center and you will swirl it around to make a thin, even layer. Watch for the injera to start cooking and bubbling even as you swirl it around the pan; that's a good sign. Your pan is hot without being too hot and your batter is probably of a good consistency.



7. Let the miricle of heat, steam, and leavening do its magic. You will watch the injera carefully--small bubbles will appear and pop all over the surface. Let it all cook merrily until the top of the injera is dry. You'll recognize it. The above picture is of a dry injera. Spots that were still wet, still needing to cook, would appear brighter. It doesn't actually take very long to get to this stage.



This is a closeup of the surface, with the contrast slightly enhanced, to show you what the surface will look like. The tiny bubbles, like this, are perfect. Larger bubbles are not a problem, but the more little bubbles you have the spongier the texture will be at the end. If you have larger bubbles, try stirring down the batter to reduce the amount of air in the mixture (remember, the yeast is not the only leavening agent at work here, so it's not a tragedy if you stir it down a little). If that doesn't work, make the batter a little thinner with a little more liquid.

8. Flip the injera. Traditional injera is finished at this point, but this recipe is better with a little heat applied to both sides.



You can see the path the batter took when I swirled it in the pan along the pattern in the injera. I usually leave it flipped just long enough to let steam start penetrating this side for 5-10 seconds. Not long, just long enough to let steam start working merrily. (Note that this is the point at which you eat your test injeras, otherwise, proceed)

9. Flip the injera again and move it to a covered dish. I usually place it on a ceramic plate, fold it in half (so that the brown side is out)and cover the plate with a glass frying pan lid. Why? Because you are going to let the residual heat and steam finish cooking the injera--that's what will move the texture from slightly gummy to spongy.



Stack the cooked injera into the covered dish as you cook them. When the last one is done, set them aside and let them completely cook to room temperature. You might want to remove the lid from the dish and shake off the condensation once while it's cooling, but if you forget, it's usually no big deal. Cook up a stew and have a delish dinner.


If your Injera isn't perfect

So you let steam get you to the end and you can't stop yourself from a nibble and decide that, well, this batch came out differently than you hoped. All is not lost, so don't put that stack of food that you spent money and time to make into the garbage yet.

First, cook up the stew you were going to make and try it anyway. Very often, what doesn't work plain will be just fine once it absorbs the sauces from the stew. You can also reheat this on the griddle, and that extra bit of heat will sometimes help.

If that doesn't fix it (and it's rare for me that thiese simple steps won't rescue an imperfect batch) then you can...

• toast them in the oven and eat with sugar, butter, jam, syrup, et cetera.
  
• Slice into strips and marinate with a sauce for a very soft noodle.
  
• cut up and fry with za'atar and olive oil, or some other favorite thing, like pesto or garlic or whatever.

Only my first batches, before I stopped stirring the two-week old hootch back into the sourdough or significantly under used baking mix, were ever so awful that I couldn't finish eating what I'd made. I find this to be usable all the time, these days.

Let me know how it goes!


Note:
Sourdough should not be mixed with or rested in metal utensils--the actions of the yeast and bacteria symbosis can pick up flavors from the metal.

Roasted Cauliflower. And Leftovers.

Yah, I eat a lot of earth-toned food. Yes, yes I do. And I never think about a photo until its impossible to get a good one.

Be that as it may, this piece of a picture features a couple of things I do all the time (1. make something via the fried rice engine, this time, using carrots, onions, and mushrooms and 2. make lentils) and one new thing. It's the new thing I want to mention.

I tried roasted cauliflower. It was wonderful. I did look over multiple recipes, as there are tons of them, and decided that this one was the starter recipe for me.

Except I subbed nootch for Parmesan cheese. And I left off the vinegar. It's all good and stuff, but I was just wanting the veggie and the spices. My modification:

* 8 cups 1-inch-thick slices cauliflower florets
* 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
* 1 tablespoon fresh marjoram
* 1/4 teaspoon salt
* Freshly ground pepper to taste
* 1 t nutritional yeast
* 1 t garlic


Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 450°F.
2. Toss cauliflower, oil, spices in a preheated, great big, cast iron frying pan. [Don't burn yourself!] Spread on a across pan and roast until starting to soften and brown on the bottom, check and stir every 15 minutes until done.

Yum. This was certainly Cauliflower FTW! and I expect the regular recipe is quite nice, too, but I wasn't interested in missing the flavor of the spices by tossing with my exceedingly expensive and super flavorful 18-yr-old Balsamic.

Product Review: Living Harvest Hemp Frozen Desert

People who know me know I love Living Harvest's tempt hemp milk. It's more expensive than my usual almond milk, and it's less frequently available (when I finally ran out of my stock pile, I went to my right well beloved Outpost and hunted the aisles, only to learn that they only carry it when the state-wide, loosely associated food cooperative system has it on sale. Because they have to, then.)

So I get it once in a while, and I stock pile it, and have it as a treat.

I found another treat:


Oh, my goodness.

I tried the mint and the coffee biscotti. This was completely delicious, and even the Baby K and the Baby Ry loved it: high praise indeed. I'm glad to have found it, as it makes a wider range of non-dairy deserts available to us. It is denser that the Luna & Larry's coconut frozen desert, which is nice, but each desert has its own merits, so it is about on par for taste and mouth-feel. Yum.

Beer and Tsardust

or, The Fried Rice Engine.


... what was I wanting to share about beer? I forgot. Other than I collected a multiple number of beer based recipes that I want to try, of course.

Anyway, I took a run out to Penzey's. Very soon I'll be off to Pennsic, and so I don't want to invest in too much as far as cooking spices go (saving my money for Auntie Arwen), but I did feel the need for smoked paprika, based on one of the beer recipes I've got hanging around. While there, I found a spice blend with the enchanting name of Tsardust memories. The ingredient list read like a typical period receipt (salt, garlic, cinnamon, pepper, nutmeg, marjoram--so, salt, garlic, marjoram, and poudre forte, all found in medieval European cooking) and so I had to bring a jar of it home with me.



This is what I did with it, that first try, and I quite enjoyed it. I do tend to throw vegetables into leftover rice for a quick meal--really, really often, as it happens. Like any bit of cooking that's really more a process than a measured out recipe, it's a little different every time, and, frequently, once the brassica family gets involved, so does some sort of oriental sauce--schezuan, usually, just a little something drizzled over the stir fry.

The usual sauce mix for it involves:

1 T nutritional yeast
1 T Maggi seasoning (or soy or worchestershire--vegan or regular)*
1-3 T olive oil

Into this goes an onion (and thence, sauteed), the rice, and whatever vegetables I decide will complete my meal today. Today, I tossed in a couple teaspoons of the Tsardust memories. It was nice! Nice enough for me to write it down to make sure I try it again.... and can find what I did when I am ready to try.

Many a tasty dish is lost to me because I forgot to write it down.