Not Mastering the Art of French Cooking

I don't want to speak too soon, but I believe the Midwest has just about recovered from the blizzard of '09--three straight days of snow. I was lucky to be trapped at my parents' house for the holiday with cross-country skiing as the only means of escape (not too shabby if I do say so). I received several food-related gifts this year (having a hobby makes me an easy person to shop for), two of which are related to Julia Child. One was the movie Julie and Julia (Meryl Streep is amazing) and the other was (obviously) Mastering the Art of French Cooking. And after my first foray into the tome of culinary instruction, I can safely say I will not be replicating Julie Powell's quest to cook through the book.

The first edition's foreward says the manual is for the "servantless American cook who can be unconcerned on occasion with budgets, waistlines, time schedules, children's meals, the parent-chauffeur-den-mother syndrome or anything else that might interfere with the enjoyment of producing something wonderful to eat."

I'm afraid I'm not one of those people--and I don't even have kids. I suppose on occasion I could splurge for a whole, live lobster or, I don't know, chicken kidneys, which, according to Julia are quite delectable. There are recipes for brains in here, people. I'm adventurous, but I can't see myself thinking one night, "Hmm, let's try that recipe for stewed brains just to say I've tried them." No. Not happening (my dad and vegetarian roommate along with every single person who gets invited over for dinner at my house is now breathing a collective sigh of relief). And, though I think I can say with confidence that I am whole-heartedly content with my waistline--more so than most women I've met--I must confess I do care about the volume of butter required to execute these dishes. Take for instance last night, I made crepes, stuffed with sauteed mushrooms and topped with brown sauce. I went through nearly an entire stick of butter between the three elements. And that was removing the cheese sauce that was supposed to go with the mushrooms. Granted, I didn't eat all of the meal myself, but still. And for time, there is no way I'm going to come home from work after 5 p.m. and begin a meal that takes three hours.

Right away as I start reading the cookbook, I'm thinking, "Julia Child would not like me." She insists you read the entire recipe beforehand and follow it to the T the first time through. What!? I almost never read past the ingredients and where it says how long something takes to make, and things usually turn out just fine. But last night, I did it. I followed the directions (for the most part) and read through the entire recipe before turning on the stove. And I ended up with a savory sauce, confidence in flipping crepes and a pile of mushrooms that were lovely even though I used Marsala cooking wine--something decidely "not French."

Katy braved the roads to drive 10 blocks to my apartment with Cordell in tow. He liked the crepes, though not stuffed with mushrooms. And I think that skill is certainly a keeper--I predict more dainty, berry-stuffed French pancakes in my future.

I'm not even going to attempt to transcribe these complicated recipes here.

Magic Mushrooms

I've taken quite a turn from my childhood loathing of mushrooms to today. A dish similar to this mushroom-laden toast was what first converted me. My mom occasionally made toast slathered in cream cheese with sauteed mushrooms pressed firmly into the cheese. I suspect what I actually liked was the cheese on toast and the mushrooms were only tolerable.

This meal -- as it was an entire meal -- encapsulates what I love about cooking for myself. I have complete permission to make myself a meal of buttered toast with a pile of mushrooms on it and call it a night.

Mushrooms and Toast: from Smitten Kitchen
big handful mushrooms
big garlic clove
2 pieces of toast
butter for the toast
about 1 tablespoon butter for sauteeing the shrooms
a good glug or two of marsala cooking wine

Chop the shrooms up into tiny bits and mince the garlic. In a skillet, melt the butter. Toss in the shrooms and minced garlic. Pour in the wine and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and let simmer until the wine has reduced. Turn off heat and let sit for a few minutes to let it thicken.

Meanwhile, pop the bread in the toaster. Butter. Top with sauteed mushrooms. Serves 1.

Would Have Been Better With Shrimp

I suppose it makes sense that when you are uninspired, everything you make is also uninspired. I made an attempt to rally myself last Tuesday. I feigned excitement when I saw a photo of a delicious pasta dish. It could have been so good. I'll blame the health food market I stopped by on my way home that doesn't stock shrimp. So what we're in landlocked Nebraska? This is America, and I want my semi-exotic seafood priced at $5 a pound. I'm being sarcastic. But this dish would have been a lot better with shrimp (versus tofu). Vegetarian Pasta: handful spaghetti 2 tablespoons butter 1/2 cup onion, chopped 1 garlic clove, chopped 1/2 butternut squash, diced 1/3 cup cremini mushrooms, chopped (because mushrooms go in everything) 1 cup chicken/vegetable stock 1 cup dry white wine or marsala 1 teaspoon dried rosemary 1 cup tofu, chopped (or 1 pound already-cooked shrimp) 1/4 cup cream (to thicken) salt and pepper to taste parmsan cheese (to salvage) Start out by bringing a pot of salted water to boil. Cook spaghetti according to directions. Penne pasta would also work well with this dish. Melt butter in sauce pan on medium high heat. Saute onions for a couple minutes. Then throw in the garlic, squash and mushrooms and continue to saute for several more minutes, until the onion in translucent. Add the stock and the rosemary, bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Add the wine. Simmer until squash is nearly cooked through. Add the tofu/shrimp while still on simmer. While stirring, add cream slowly until sauce thickens a bit. Add salt and pepper to taste.

An Old Standby

You shouldn't be surprised by now that my "old standby" is a Giada recipe. I actually can't believe it's been almost six months since I made this risotto. But as we're smack in the middle of the bleak mid-winter, I knew something savory, homey and loaded with parmasan cheese would satisfy. I'll confess I've been a bit uninspired to cook. I'll blame the weather and the apparent lack of fresh, brightly-colored produce. I can't wait for spring asparagus. If you haven't ever tried risotto before, this is a good one to start with. It's one of the more meaty entrees (it's really more of a side) that I make. I even had leftover pork sausage, which I will use to make my other standby next week.

Dirty Risotto: 1/2 pound ground pork sausage
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup onion, chopped
1/2 cup bell pepper, chopped
1/2 cup mushrooms, chopped
1 cup arborio (or long grain) rice
1/2 cup dry white wine
5 cups chicken stock
parsley, basil, salt and pepper to taste
1/2 cup parmasan cheese Brown the meat in a large pot. Drain the fat and set aside. In a separate sauce pan, bring stock to a simmer.

In the first (now empty) sauce pan, drizzle olive oil into the pot on medium-high heat. Saute the onion, bell pepper and mushrooms for about 2 minutes. Toss in the rice and stir to coat the rice with oil. Throw in the wine, let it simmer and reduce. Put the sausage back in the sauce pan with the rice.

Using a ladle, spoon 1 or 2 cups of the stock from one pot to the other (now on medium heat) allowing the rice to soak up the stock. Continue stirring until the liquid has reduced, 5 to 8 minutes. Ladle another cup or two into the risotto, stir occasionally until liquid has reduced. Continue ladling periodically until the rice is cooked through. Turn off the heat. Season the risotto with parsley, basil, salt and pepper. Stir in the parmasan cheese. Serve, sprinkling extra parsley and cheese to garnish.

Wild Mushroom Soup

Inspiration for this soup came from 101 Cookbooks. You know how crazy I get at the sight of mushrooms. Click on the 101 Cookbooks link above to see her much more fantastically photographed version of the above soup.) I made some tweaks to the recipe, and I think it turned out pretty delicious. Wild Mushroom Soup: 1/2 cup dry oyster shrooms (any combination of shrooms will work here, just be sure that at least some are dry) 3 cups water 1 tablespoon butter 1 leek stalk, coarsely chopped 2 small yellow potatoes, chopped 2 cloves garlic, chopped 1 cup cremini shrooms, coarsely chopped salt and pepper to taste 1 teaspoon dried rosemary parmasan cheese Soak dried mushrooms in a large pot with hot water for 15 minutes. Set aside. Heat butter in a skillet on stovetop and saute leeks and potatoes for about 5 minutes. Add salt and pepper. (Next time I would use onion or shallots as they have a stronger flavor). Toss in the mushrooms and garlic and saute for a few minutes--you don't want the garlic to burn here, we just want the mushrooms to soak up some of the flavor of the butter and onions. Add the sauteed vegetables to the pot of soaking mushrooms. Add 2 more cups of water and bring mixture to a boil. Add rosemary and loads more salt and pepper. Simmer for 10 minutes or until potatoes are tender. Serve with parmasan cheese sprinkled on top.

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.

Squash and Mushroom Salad

The last couple months living in Thailand I spent Sunday afternoons wandering somewhat aimlessly around the streets of Bangkok. There were a lot of lonely moments mixed in with awe at the busy-ness of life going on around me. I would go to these 5-story, giganto malls and pretend that I could afford to shop at Gucci and Prada. Kinokuniya bookstores were the jackpot though. I can recall one day finding this Jamie Oliver cookbook at one bookstore and started drooling over the photos of food not involving rice that graced nearly every page (I do adore Thai food, but I couldn't get used to rice three times a day). I bought the book anyway, knowing I barely had enough room in my suitcase for something I could easily get in the U.S. Coming back from Thailand sort of turned a new leaf in my life in the kitchen (and out of it). I had spent months without even a kitchen sink or a hot plate in my apartment, and now I had my mom's newly remodeled kitchen and three family members not-very-excited about trying out my culinary inventions (excluding my mom, sorry dad, truth hurts). But since then, my Jamie Oliver cookbook has been collecting dust. Admittedly his recipes are slightly ridiculous--I remember making a page-long list of ingredients I had never heard of to look up later on Wikipedia. But last night I cracked it open and made "dumbed down" variation on his Roasted Squash, Proscuitto and Pecorino Salad, using the rest of the squash that was going to go in the quiche ...

Warm Squash and Mushroom Salad: (for one, so adjust as necessary)

1 cup butternut squash (or in my case, buttercup squash) 1/2 cup coarsely chopped mushrooms 1 tablespoon buttersalt, pepper and coriander to taste mixed salad greens parmasan cheese vinaigrette-based dressing Add butter and butternut squash to pan on medium-high heat. Add salt, pepper and coriander while you are sauteing. Saute until the squash becomes lightly browned on the edges (5-8 minutes). Add mushrooms and saute until the vegetables are browned and cooked through (2-3 minutes). Remove from heat and add to greens. Sprinkle with parmasan, pecorino and/or romano cheese. If you don't already have a vinaigrette dressing, you can easily make one mixing olive oil and balsamic or red wine vinagre on a three-to-two ratio--so 3 tablespoons olive oil, two tablespoons vinagre, etc.--and add salt and pepper to taste.

More Mushrooms.

We're already aware of my affinity towards mushrooms. (I still can't believe I refused to eat these things as a child). The fungi is to me one of the quintessential fall ingredients. It's so hearty and earthy. This meal is certainly that. The recipe is from Food and Wine, the source of much inspiration for fall for me (more to come next week). Though I must boast that I one-upped the gourmet cooking magazine by substituting the called-for gnocchi with some homemade ravioli still in my freezer. Take that Food and Wine!! I know I've already talked about it, but HyVee only had two kinds of fresh mushrooms (portobello and cremini). They didn't even have shiitake when I went yesterday. So I had to buy dried oyster mushrooms and reconstitute them, which was fine because then I used the water to boil my ravioli in and my kitchen smelled like dirt all evening. At first, I wasn't really crazy about this dish. (I probably should have used real cream instead of buttermilk, as it did go a bit chunky). But at the end, I was literally spooning the sauce from the skillet into my mouth. Megan came home and I couldn't lick the plate. Ravioli with Wild (sort of) Mushrooms: (serves 6) 2 tablespoons olive oil 2 tablespoons butter 2 pounds mixed mushrooms, coarsely chopped 1/2 cup onion, chopped 1/4 cup marsala cooking wine 3/4 cup chicken stock 1/2 cup cream 1 teaspoon thyme salt and pepper to taste 2 pounds stuffed pasta 6 tablespoons parmasan cheese Heat olive oil with butter in skillet. Add mushrooms and onions, cook until mushrooms are browned. Add marsala and cook until evaporated. Add the stock, cream and thyme, season with salt and pepper and bring to a boil Meanwhile boil a pot of salted water and cook pasta until the ravioli floats to the surface. Drain. Add the pasta to the mushrooms and simmer, stirring for one minute. Stir in parmasan cheese.

Jenny's Tilapia.

Jenny (photographic genious) sent me this in an email--not the food (unfortunately) just the photo. Tilapia with baked veggies. I have noticed the green beans are really delish this year (maybe they are every year and I just don't notice), plus mushrooms, hello, haven't I already posted at least once about my obsession with the fungi? My only question was if she drank that entire bottle of gewurtz in the background. She definitely should have invited me over to help out (too bad she lives in St. Louis). Send me photos and/or recipes of your food and I will totally post it--that way I won't have to cook as much, and you'll get the spotlight (we all win!). Send to lrseyler at hotmail dot com.

I Could Live On Salad Alone.

Oh man, I did not feel like cooking last night. For the first time I felt the pressure: "I started this cooking blog and I have got to update it, I need to make something good." But I didn't even feel like eating anything. Pasta? Had that this weekend--three times. Chicken? Too heavy. Soup? I wanted instant gratification last night; I did not want to wait for something to simmer on my moody stovetop. The only thing I wanted to eat was mushrooms. I used to loathe mushrooms. I thought they were creepy. Fungus? Edible fungus? I found them kind of slimy when sauteed, versus the almost starchy consistency of raw shrooms. You can't trust something like that, right? And I swear even the smell of them caused a gag reflex at age 10. But as with tomatoes, olives, eggplant, squash, garbanzo beans, beans in general, scallops, mussels, tofu, wine and other superior food (can you believe I didn't eat these at one point), I gained an appreciation for them from traveling. In Thailand, my chef/friend/adopted-mother would make me this all-vegetable dish with like seven different kinds of mushrooms: shittake (I love that word), those long and skinny ones, the ones with the lacy edges, probably button mushrooms. I die. There are only like three kinds of mushrooms available at HyVee. Alas, another meal I can never recreate. I finally gave in to my lazy, tired, whiny, I-don't-feel-like-it attitude and bought a rotisserie chicken for $5 at HyVee, feta cheese, portabello mushrooms (because that was all they had), bell peppers and Annie's Naturals Shittake and Sesame dressing (sort of expensive, but the freaking best dressing I have ever had). I made a salad. It took about 5 minutes, and it was awesome. I'm planning on using the rest of the rotisserie chicken to make a homemade stuffed pasta of sorts (or on a salad tonight). Disaster waiting just around the corner.