Covert Operation

I've used some semi-covert tactics to learn a few tricks to make some superior home-fried potatoes--I say semi-covert because prying the trick from my friend Dan was too easy to be considered a true mission. I've now been teasing Dan for probably weeks that I'm going to share his trick and say its my own, thus bringing my worldwide fame or at least fame among the 50 or so people who actually read my blog posts in their entirety. Yes, these potatoes are good enough to make me a few friends I think.

I've made olive-oil fried potatoes many times, so I was a little surprised the tuber could achieve the sort of greatness that involves not being able to stop eating them no matter how full you are--and I've had training in resisting food. But one night a few weeks ago, Dan, Megan and I were sitting around the dining room table chatting whilst Meg and I stabbed slice after slice of the home fries, swearing each would be our last.

My mistake in crafting a superior potato, or a superior anything really, is my impatience. I turn up the heat and pan-fry the daylights out of my vegetables because I'm hungry and I want them now. But Dan takes his time, turning down the heat and letting the heat permeate the potatoes before browning the exterior. Then he seasons the fries (with Landry's seasoned salt and pepper) when they're about halfway done. He theorizes that if you season at the beginning you end up salting the oil along with the potatoes. Halfway through, the oil has already seeped into the potatoes, soaking them through and really making that salt stick.

Roast Chicken

And I've cooked something again. Feels good. Especially when it's something so easy. I came home from work after reading reading reading all day long, and it was nice to do something else. All I did was slather the chicken with butter (and my hands--don't worry, I washed) and then I sat outside on the deck and savored the outdoors. I realize summer is sort of winding down and I need to bask in it. The public pools are closing this weekend and school starts in a couple weeks. But the good thing about summer when you're not in school (and trust me, I need a good thing) is that it lasts as long as you want it to. So my summer goes from May through the end of September.

Roast Chicken: adapted from Amateur Gourmet
3 tablespoons butter, softened and cut into slices
2 garlic cloves, minced
4 stalks of fresh rosemary, finely chopped (or 1 tsp dried rosemary)
1 teaspoon dried sage
salt and pepper
4 chicken legs

Preheat oven to 400. In a small bowl, mash together butter, garlic, rosemary, sage, and salt and pepper. Place chicken legs in a cast iron skillet or roasting pan or whatever you've got. Rub butter all over the chicken, add extra salt and pepper if needed. Bake for 20 minutes in oven. After 20 minutes, turn the heat down to 350 and bake another 25 to 30 minutes until chicken is cooked through, golden brown and crispy on the outside.

Pan-fried Fingerling Potatoes: handful of fingerling potatoes, sliced thinly
salt
pepper
olive oil

In a medium skillet on medium-high heat, warm olive oil. Add sliced potatoes, salt and pepper according to taste. Saute until potatoes are tender and cooked through.

Jenny, My Food Partner in Crime

Jenny was always my food buddy. We will both eat pretty much anything and would often end up spliting meals, such as at the Grand Luxe in Chicago or at Il Spazio (affectionately referred to as The Spaz) in Kirksville, Mo. It was Jenny who also taught me not to scrape the tongs of my fork on my teeth when eating--now I hate when people do that too. We had a lot of memories in the kitchen of that freezing, old house on Jefferson--staying up late eating peanut butter and chocolate chips and talking about boys. Ahhh, the good ol' days. So it's only fitting that Jenny help bolster the content of this blog from afar. It's almost as good as a late-night laugh-fest. Almost. The top photo is of potato soup, modified from something on Allrecipes.com. Looks perty, don't it.

And here we have one of Jenny's trademarks: pesto pasta. She loves it. And actually, the recipe reminisces the best pasta dish ever that we shared at the aforementioned Grand Luxe Cafe.

Potato Soup: 3/4 cup chopped celery 1/4 cup chopped onion 1 15-ounce can chicken stock 5 peeled and cubed russet potatoes 2 teaspoons flour 1/2 package ranch dressing mix 1 cup half and half 1/2 cup sour cream sprinkle of bacon bits and cheddar cheese Cook down onions and celery until tender in a pot. Add chicken broth, about a 1/4 cup water and potatoes and boil until potatoes are tender. Reduce heat and mash about 1/3 of the potatoes in the pot (or food processor would probably work too). In a bowl, combine flour and ranch mix, then whisk in the half and half and sour cream. Add the mixture into the soup, stirring. Once combined, heat soup for another minute or so and remove from heat. Season with salt and pepper and parsley. Serve and sprinkle with bacon bits and cheese. Pesto Pasta: 1 regular-size package shell or bow tie pasta 1 15-ounce can artichoke hearts 1/2 cup fresh mushrooms (chopped) 1/2 cup tomato pesto dressing 1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese Cook pasta according to directions on box. Heat artichokes and mushrooms in a small pan until mushrooms are tender (use 1 tablespoon of butter as a saute). Drain pasta and add it to mushroom/artichokes and add dressing with heat on low. Top with feta and serve. I couldn't decide what photo to leave you with: cute or funny, funny or cute? I went with funny (I must have a thing with embarassing my friends). This photo is from last year's New Year's party. Good times. There were way too many cameras documenting that night.

Black Bean Soup With a Kick

I stinking love how easy soups can be. I came home from work and pretty much just threw a bunch of crap in a pot, let it simmer for 20 minutes and had a meal. I stuck pretty closely to the Gourmet recipe on this one, with one modification: no jalepenos. Ever since my former roommate (Rebecca) made salsa from scratch and burned her hands on the jalapenos I've been a bit uneasy about dealing with the hot pepper. I know the seeds are the killers, but still. I have a thing against stuff that is so spicy you can't taste anything but the heat. I substituted a bit of cayenne pepper, which, as it turns out, is only slightly less hazardous. I sprinkled some of the red pepper into the soup and leaned in to take a whiff of the cumin and chili powder sweltering in the pot and completely inhaled the cayenne pepper. It coated the inside of my nose, my sinuses and all the way back to my throat. Woah! I coughed, sneezed and ran for some water. Fortunately the burn only lasts a minute, unlike Rebecca's jalapeno burn (which lasted all night)--seriously people, be careful with the hot peppers. Black Bean Soup: 1/2 medium onion, chopped 2 cloves garlic, chopped 1/4 cup green pepper, (duh) chopped 1 russet potato, chopped 2 tablespoons olive or vegetable oil dash salt dash cayenne (aka red) pepper (a little goes a long way here) 1 1/4 teaspoon chili powder 1 1/4 teaspoon cumin 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano 2 15-ounce cans black beans, rinsed 3 cups vegetable or chicken stock 1 bay leaf optional: grated cheese (colby, jack, cheddar) Add oil to 5-quart pot on med/high heat. Saute potatoes for a couple minutes, then add onions, peppers and garlic (mmm, garlic) on med/high heat until onions are lightly browned. Add spices, salt and pepper while the vegetables are sauteing (carefully). Add beans, stock and bay leaf. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 15 minutes. Blend 1 cup of soup mixture in food processor or blender (genius trick to thicken bean soups, works every time). Use caution when transferring hot liquids. Reheat, if necessary. Serve (I highly recommend using cheese).

Potato Latkes or I Try To Be Kosher

Sometimes I wish I was Jewish. For whatever reason, I find the religion and culture fascinating. And maybe it's the fact that I couldn't ever really be Jewish that makes me want it even more. However, I can still cook, eat and enjoy Jewish food. The holidays are in full swing at our apartment. We're having a party on Friday night, so I spent my random day off on Monday decorating and cooking. Latkes are a completely new thing for me to make because 1.) it's not Italian, 2.) I rarely cook with potatoes and 3.) I have never, ever trully fried anything. I bought a frying/candy thermometer at the store because the recipe called for it. Turns out I totally could have done without it, which is a good thing because as I was removing the thermometer from the skillet I burned my fingers and dropped/threw the thermometer on the counter where it bounced of and shattered on the floor. Turns out frying is a lot less scary than I imagined it would be (except for grabbing the thermometer). The draw of this hors d'oeuvre is that it can be reheated just before guests arrive.

Potato Latkes: (adapted from Gourmet) 1/2 medium onion 3 pounds russet potatoes, peeled (about 6) 2 teaspoons lemon juice (to prevent browning) 1/3 cup flour salt and pepper 3 eggs, whisked 1 cup vegetable oil You can shred the potatoes and onions in a food processor or (as I did) with a cheese grater. Grate/shred the onion. Mix potatoes and onion together. Toss with lemon juice. In a separate bowl mix flour, about 2 teapspoons of salt and a teaspoon of pepper. Add to potato/onion mixture and toss to mix. Add whisked eggs and stir to coat.

Add oil to heavy skillet and heat to 360 degrees on the stovetop. Add a heaping spoonful of the potatoes to the oil. Use a fork to flatten to 3- or 4-inch pancakes. Cook until golden brown on each side (take 2-3 minutes each). Transfer to paper towel lined baking tray.

Apparently, latkes can be frozen for up to two weeks. Reheat in an oven at 450 degrees for five minutes. Served with sour cream (recipe to follow later this week).