When the Lemonator makes noises of delight and demands seconds of a dish of whole grains, you know you have a winner.  I will try to get a better picture of this the next time I make it, but please believe me that it is delicious.  The barley grains are just slightly chewy and create a nice thick sauce.  It’s a very inexpensive and filling dinner, and it has more fiber and nutrients than a standard risotto. 

This version is a very simple herb risotto, but I’m sure you could use ingredients from any standard risotto recipe.  I am dying to try a mushroom risotto with barley, but the Lemonator is resisting.  I bet a squash or pumpkin risotto would be to die for.

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup pearled barley
• 1/2 onion, diced
• 1 glove garlic, minced or grated
• fresh or dried sage, rosemary, and thyme
• olive oil
• Pat of butter
• 2 cups chicken or vegetable stock (or a mixture of stock and white wine or lemon juice)
• kettle of hot water
• salt and pepper to taste

Instructions

1.  Put the stock and wine in a small saucepan and heat it to boiling, then lower the heat to a simmer.  

2.  Saute the onion in olive oil until it is translucent.   Add the garlic and half of the herbs (reserve some for garnish) and cook until fragrant.  Stir in the barley.

3.  Gradually begin adding the hot stock/wine mixture to the barley, adding more whenever the barley has absorbed most of the liquid.  When you run out of stock, use water instead.  Continue until the barley is cooked but not mushy and suspended in thick sauce.  Season with salt and pepper.  Finish with a pat of butter.  The risotto should be creamy in texture before you add the butter, but the butter adds amazing flavor and mouthfeel.  Serve hot and garnish with the rest of the minced herbs.  Enjoy!

The Lemonator and I made a run to Costco this weekend, which is always very fun for me.  We once wondered whether we would get enough use out of a Costco card as a two person household, but it has been invaluable.  One of my favorite things about Costco is that it provides me with an excuse to buy wine.  I am no wine connoisseur–I don’t like spending a lot of money on wine and I don’t know much about different labels and varieties, but I know the difference between a good and bad bottle of wine.  In my opinion, Costco has the best value around for the casual wine drinker.  I don’t think I’ve ever bought a bad bottle of  wine there.  The variety is nice, but not overwhelming, and they conveniently label their wines with descriptions and recent ratings to help you make a choice.

I also love Costco’s selection of seafood–it very fresh and reasonably priced and the majority is from sustainable sources.  Again, the variety is very good.  Usually, I buy some, but…

…the Lemonator wanted steak.  Costco has great values on a variety of good quality steaks, and even some organic meat.  The Lemonator saw some nice tri tip steaks on sale and we ended up taking some of those home.  Tri tip is actually one of my favorite cuts of meat.  It isn’t a particularly pretty shape, but it’s flavorful, tender and lean–an unusual combination–and you can often find it on sale.  We had some for dinner tonight, along with a side of spinach with olive oil, salt, pepper and a splash of red wine.  On weeks when I know I’m going to be busy, those giant pound clamshells of prewashed baby spinach at Costco are a real lifesaver when it comes to making dinner.

We also had some butternut squash soup which I had prepared the night before.  I have a new super easy and delicious all-purpose vegetables soup method.  Roast your vegetable along with a quartered onion and, if you like, a head of garlic.  When they are done, puree the vegetables in batches and add to a pot.  Thin with water and good stock, season with salt and any other desired flavorings, maybe add a splash of cream and you are done.  Roasting the garlic and onion means great flavor, less chopping, and no getting garlic and onion all over your hands.  Super simple.  You can also eat some of the roasted vegetable for a meal and use the rest for your soup.

And, of course, some wine.

Costco also provided us with some delicious Jonagold apples.  Apples are one of my favorite fall foods.  I find that they aren’t very filling on their own, so when I am in the mood for an apple snack, I like to add some sharp cheddar (for tart apples) or peanut butter (for sweeter apples).  I always buy natural peanut butter, which is harder to dip with than the non-natural kind:  it is a little too thick to adhere to the apple properly when you dip into it.  You can always spread the peanut butter directly on the apples, which I sometimes do, but when I am in a dipping mood, I sometimes mix equal parts peanut butter and warm water and maybe a drizzle of honey to make a dipping sauce.  At first, this will look very scary and like you have added too much water, but if you keep mixing and mixing, it will eventually become a cohesive and creamy dip.

See?  I used a tablespoon of peanut butter here and it was more than enough to dip all of the apple pieces multiple times.

Kimba has decided to be my blogging buddy and do his sleep yoga next to me while I type.  I think that I will join him in sleep, although perhaps not in the contortions.  Goodnight everyone!

I have been in a prolonged cooking slump, which Hil has been trying to coax me out of.

“Mama, you need to cook even if it’s just for yourself.”

“Remember, you taught me to cook!”

When inspiring thoughts such as these didn’t hit the mark, she got specific. “Frozen shrimp are really useful. They are full of protein and low in fat and they taste great and they’re always there when you need them.”

“But Hil, I don’t know how to cook shrimp.”

“You pan-fry them, Mama, and then you deglaze the pan with some form of alcohol, and then you add a pat of butter.”

“A pat of butter?”

“Yes, you know this, you add a pat of butter after you deglaze the pan.  Remember? Butter, your favorite food.”

Thus were born Scotch Shrimp.

I thawed ten precooked shrimp in some cold water, then dried them on a dish towel. I wished I had a cast iron pan to do some really serious searing with, but all I had was nonstick. I heated the pan at a heat somewhere between medium and medium high, then drizzled in some olive oil and placed the shrimp in the pan.  I was powerfully encouraged to find that the shrimp seared right up, browning as nicely as I could have wished.

I was so inspired that after the shrimp browned on the other side and I removed them to a plate, I decided to splash some good Scotch into the pan instead of my usual sherry. I deglazed, added butter, salt, and cayenne pepper, then scraped the sauce onto the shrimp.  (I didn’t use a lot of Scotch so I scraped rather than poured.)

Yummy!  All of you who happen to have some Scotch around, or any form of whiskey or even brandy, try this!  Actually I bet they’d be fabulous with tequila or rum.  The point is hard liquor instead of wine. The flavor really complements the shrimp. Plus you’ll get your protein.  And you will have cooked!

Everything is lawful, but not everything is beneficial.  Good life advice that is surprisingly applicable to eating.  I’ve been feeling a bit off my game this semester.  I consciously deprioritized food over the spring and summer because I was just too busy to do otherwise.  The things I was busy with were exciting and interesting and definitely worth it, but there were more nights than I would prefer when I walked through the door, collapsed onto the futon and didn’t move until the Lemonator revived me with a bowl of mac and cheese from a box.  Now that I’m back in school, things are much saner, but I found that many of the good habits I had been breaking were, alas, no longer habits.  So I’ve been working on gradually rebuilding my healthy routine.

One fun thing I like to do when I’m getting back into my normal routine is what I call my “intuitive eating lab,” which is basically taking myself out to a nice meal and practicing eating what I want and not eating what I don’t want.  I eat slowly and without distractions and stop when I am full.  If I want dessert and alcohol and bread and butter sauce on my entree, I eat all of them.  If I’m not feeling any of them, then I don’t eat them just because I’m out to eat.  It sounds common sense, but its really easy to eat on autopilot when you’re busy, and when you’ve been busy for a long period of time, it can really take some conscious effort to breakdown the autopilot and get back into the habit of thinking about–and enjoying–what you are putting into your mouth.  I find that it’s a nice thing to do when you’ve been feeling off or after a change in routine or season.

I took myself out to a favorite farm-to-fork cafe.  There are lots of healthy options here, but also lots of rich food, which is ideal for a “lab” setting.  I brought a book to read while I waited for my food, but set it aside while I did my eating.

My very favorite thing to eat here is the chicken satay sandwich:  juicy marinated chicken thighs smothered in peanut sauce, creamy avocado, scallions and Japanese pickles on toasted nine grain bread.  SO GOOD.  The sandwich started as a special, and whenever I ordered it, I would always end up eating more than I was really hungry for because I couldn’t stand the thought of such deliciousness going to waste.  The sandwich came with a scoop of delicious curried quinoa salad, and often as not I would buy sparkling juice and maybe split a freshly baked cookie with the Lemonator as well.  All of those things are delicious, but do I really need all of them at every meal?  Probably not.  There’s certainly no rule that says I can’t have a sandwich and a drink and half a cookie, but there’s also no rule that says I have to have all three just because I’m treating myself.

To my delight, the chicken satay sandwich had been added to the regular menu along with a salad version of the same dish.  My eyes lit up when I saw the salad on the menu.  The bread is certainly good, but the real point of the sandwich is the interplay between the peanut sauced chicken, avocado and cucumber.  I was hungry, but not starving, so the salad seemed like a good option.  It was perfect–plenty of chicken and avocado and completely satisfying as a main dish.  The greens were fresh and very lightly dressed, which meant that you could swirl forkfuls of greens in the leftover peanut sauce without making them soggy. 

I decided to opt for water instead of juice (cheaper anyway) and complete my meal with a single square of extra dark chocolate rather than a baked good.  The baked goods are delicious, but I really wasn’t hungry for both the salad and a cookie.  The chocolate square was a perfect end to the meal.  The chocolate had a nice snap to it and tasted delicious.  I savored it slowly.

I left lunch feeling happy, satisfied, and experiencing what Rose refers to as a “belly hug.”  I felt invigorated and went on a nice walk afterward–a good meal always gives me enough sustenance that I feel like walking, but doesn’t leave me so stuffed that I fall into a food coma.  The thing about my intuitive eating labs is that they aren’t about finding some objectively right answer as to How Much Food Is Enough–this meal was perfect for today, but if I’m hungry for a cookie next time, I’ll order a cookie.  It’s more about taking the time to really listen to my body and make conscious decisions.

The Lemonator and I are off to see This is It.  Happy Friday, everyone!

This is one of my very favorite easy desserts.  I’ve blogged versions of it before, but I decided that it was time to formally add it to my recipe favorites, so today it gets its own post.  This dish is warm, sweet, and comforting and really tastes like fall.  The follow recipe makes two servings–one for now and one for later, in my case. 

Baked apples are also extremely delicious plain, but don’t be scared of the ice cream!  I always use ultra rich, full fat vanilla ice cream, but you really don’t need a lot to get the full effect–just a dollop.  By virtue of the fact that it is primarily made up of fruit, this dessert is quite low in calories and saturated fat even if you do add some ice cream to garnish.

Ingredients

• 1 Granny Smith Apple
• 1 to 2 tablespoons of brown sugar
• cinnamon
• butter for dotting
• good quality vanilla ice cream (or lightly sweetened whipped cream)

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 415 degrees.  Slice the apple very thinly.  Add the apple slices, brown sugar and cinnamon to a bowl or plastic bag and toss to coat.  Divide the apple slices between two ovenproof ramekins.

Dot the tops lightly with butter.  You only need a tiny bit…the butter melts down and combines with the spiced apple juices so that they thicken and become extra rich.  If you want, you can cover the dish with plastic wrap at this point and store it in the fridge until you are ready to bake it.  Take out the ice cream to soften.

Put the ramekins in the oven and bake for about 20 minutes, or until the apples are tender and the juices are bubbling and slightly thickened.  Top with a spoonful of vanilla ice cream and enjoy!

The Lemonator is a notorious sleep talker.  When I went to wake him this morning, he opened his eyes wide and smiled.  “Hello!  That was delicious!”

“What was delicious?”  I asked.

“The food.”

“You mean from last night?”

“No, the food I just ate.”

“In your dream?”

“Yes.”

“You dreamed about food?  What did you eat?”

He paused thoughtfully.  After a moment, he continued:  “Orange juice…first degree fossils…”

“First degree fossils?!  What is a first degree fossil?”

“Unidentified ancient remains!”

Eggs in a hole have been making the rounds in the blogosphere, which inspired me to make some for breakfast today.  I used to love these as a child and I don’t make them nearly often enough.  They are tasty, fun to eat, and provide a nice balance of protein, fat, carbohydrate and fiber to start your day.  The basic idea of egg in a hole couldn’t be more simple, but some people have reported having trouble getting them to come out right, so I thought I would offer my technique.

1.  Heat a pan over medium heat.  Add butter, olive oil or both to coat the bottom of the pan.

2.  Take a piece of bread and cut a hole out of the center using a small glass.  Put the bread in the pan.  When the first side is lightly browned, flip it over and move on to step 3. 

3.  Crack an egg into a custard cup or small bowl.  (I used an espresso shot glass.)Check to make sure that your pan is hot and slowly pour the egg into the hole.  If the white doesn’t start to cook immediately upon contact with the pan, your pan isn’t hot enough–wait to add the rest of the egg until you see the white begin to cook.  The idea is to let the cooked white seal off the opening so that the egg stays more or less in the hole and doesn’t spill all over your pan.  Once the aforementioned sealing has occurred, reduce the heat to low.  Season with salt and pepper. 

4.  When the white is cooked through, put the pan under the broiler until the yolk is done to your liking.  I like my yolk hot, thick, and not quite set, so that when I cut into it, it oozes out over the toasty bread.  You can also cook the yolk until it is completely set, in which case you can eat the thing with your fingers rather than a knife and fork.  Enjoy!

I posted a few days ago about the incredible lack of body diversity on television.  I wanted to post a sort of appendix to that post cataloging one notable exception: food television.  Stations like the Food Network and PBS are among the few places where you can see attractively dressed women of a variety of shapes and sizes heading up their own shows.

The women pictured below are hosts, critics and chefs on popular, currently running food shows.  While these women are almost universally beautiful and charismatic (and most are white), they run the gamut from tall to short, fat to skinny, and everything in between.  Some of these women have stayed one weight consistently, while others have gained and lost over the course of time.  In short, they are a sampling of women who have pursued food as career and who are not hired or fired on the basis of their ability to fit into a size two dress.

Don’t these women look more like women you know in real life?  Refreshing, isn’t it?

Happy Day of the Dead, everyone.   This year, I had two main venues for celebration:  a public party thrown by a student organization at the law school, and a smaller more personal celebration at home.  For me, public Day of the Dead celebrations are such happy events.  It’s hard to explain how a holiday about death can be such a joyful event, but it is.   This year, the organizers helpfully put up a display explaining the history of the holiday for the students who hadn’t heard of the holiday.

Every year, people bring enough pan de muerto to share with everyone at the school who wants some, which never ceases to amaze me.  There is nothing like giving away free food and and drink to set the holiday spirit.

Of course I had to have a piece, along with some coffee.  This pan de muerto was covered with sesame seeds instead of cinnamon sugar like the one we baked–different but also delicious.

Our home celebration was also a happy event, but was more bittersweet.  Last night and tonight, we made dinners full of foods that reminded us of relatives who have died.  We sat and ate and remembered and told stories.  Food has the power to evoke such strong memories.

In Memory of Aunt Buzzy:  Aunt Buzzy’s Tofu and Mimosas

Last night, we had a dinner in memory of my Aunt Buzzy.  Aunt Buzzy was my grandma’s youngest sister and was very close to my mother.  Aunt Buzzy got her nickname in childhood when some set of exasperating younger sister antics provoked my grandmother to call her a buzzard.  Aunt Buzzy was delighted and asked to be refered to as “Buzzard” from then on.  Eventually their mother found out and laid down the law:  my grandma simply could not call her sister “Buzzard,” even with permission.  “Buzzy” was settled on as a compromise option.

Aunt Buzzy fought cancer for many years before eventually dying of it, with periods of remission in between.   I am particularly thankful for her last period of remission, because it meant that I got to spend some time with her as a relative grownup.  I remember driving with my mother to see her and eating brunch at a restaurant called Zachary’s.  For some reason, I associate those brunches with mimosas.  I was too young to legally drink at the time, and I honestly don’t remember if someone let me share from the communal pitcher or if I just eyed the drinks longingly.  Either way, I think of brunch and mimosas when I think of Aunt Buzzy.

Aunt Buzzy loved gardening and healthy cooking and was always making dishes with many types of fresh chopped vegetables.  One dish that our family stole from her was a method of preparing tofu and vegetables.  As a child, I always thought of this dish as a stir fry, but it isn’t that at all.  I’m still not sure how to label the cooking method, but it results in tofu with really deep, delicious flavor.  The dish works well with whatever seasonal vegetables you have on hand.

To make Aunt Buzzy’s Tofu:

• Drain a package of tofu, then cut it into very small, thin pieces.  Part of the magic of this preparation is how the flavors really soak into the tofu, and you want to create as much surface area as possible.
• Put a pan over medium heat.  Add olive oil and soy sauce to the pan to create, in my mother’s words, a “nice slurpy mess” in the bottom of the pan.  Add freshly grated garlic and ginger and minced scallions (whites only) to the pan. Stir and let the ingredients cook until everything starts to smell toasty and good.
• Add the tofu and stir well to coat.  The bottom of the pan should still be a bit wet when you are done stirring.  If needed, add more liquids to the pan.  Let the tofu cook until it begins to brown just a bit and the flavors have been absorbed.  
• A few minutes before the end, add whatever fresh vegetables you have on hand.  I like to use broccoli and red bell pepper, and I also added some spinach for this batch.   
• At the last minute, drizzle with sesame oil.  Serve hot or cold, garnished with the greens from the scallions if you like.  This is even better the next day.

The Grandfather Dinner     

The Lemonator and I have each lost a grandfather, and tonight we made a dinner in honor of them.

In memory of Opa:  fisch stebschen unt pomme frites  (French fries and fish sticks).  This is the Lemonator’s food memory, so I asked him to write about it:

Lemonator Here.  You’d think that the food I would remember when thinking of my Opa would be something… well… German.  But instead, what I most remember eating with him are fish sticks and french fries.  Eating those minced fish sticks (I got good quality ones as it seems all food in Germany tastes better) takes me immediately back to my grandparent’s home when I was little, running downstairs and tackling my grandparents and asking them for my favorite meal… which would promptly be made and devoured in short order.

Its been seven years since my Opa died, literally the week before I went to college my freshman year… it threw our plans all out the window, and as a result… I never really had the time to grieve.  It took me many years to come to terms with the whole thing, and this year was finally the first year full of happy memories and only a little sadness.  Hil and I laughed that our grandfathers are probably getting a talking to by God about why other people’s grandkids can be ‘the best’ as well.

In memory of Pum Pum:  Artichokes with lemon mayo for dipping

I never called my grandfather “grandpa” or “granddad” or any of the other normal names.  As a baby, my best approximation of those names was “Pum Pum.”  This name suited him, and it stuck.

Pum Pum loved rich, fatty food.  He liked sandwiches that involved combinations of incongruous fatty ingredients, things like peanut butter, avocado and mayonnaise or peanut butter, bacon and mayonnaise.  He hated broccoli and was suspicious of most green vegetables, but he liked artichokes.  He used to tell the story of when an old war buddy came over to his house for dinner and artichokes were served.  Pum Pum loved artichokes, but his friend had never seen one before and declared that he would not eat “that prickly cactus.”  So artichokes and mayonnaise seem like fitting foods to remember him by.

Of all of the people we remembered tonight, Pum Pum died the most recently–summer of last year.  As I’m sitting at the keyboard, it’s so hard for me to write about him because the feelings are still fresh.  Everything I’m typing feels paltry and inadequate as a memorial to a person who I love so much and who is gone.  Part of me still hasn’t accepted that he is gone.  But one of the beautiful things about this holiday is that it puts grief in perspective.  I know how deeply the Lemonator felt the loss of his Opa.  I remember the times when we tried to talk about Opa and he got too emotional and choked up to continue.  I see how tonight, his sadness was softer, and the memories were mostly happy ones.  And I know that as time passes, my grief will be the same way.

Happy All Saint’s Day, everybody.  I hope you are all enjoying the beginning the the Dia de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) festivities.  Dia de Los Muertos is a traditional Latin American holiday that fuses elements of an ancient Aztec festival with the Catholic celebrations All Saint’s Day and All Soul’s Day.  Dia de Los Muertos is officially on All Soul’s Day, but the festivities often start as early as Halloween night.  Like Halloween, Dia de Los Muertos is supposed to be a day when the living and the dead are especially close, but Dia de Los Muertos is friendly and festive rather than spooky.  It is a time to remember and celebrate loved ones who have passed away.  People set up homemade altars with religious symbols, flowers, candles, pictures, candy skulls, and things that remind them of loved ones.  Food and its connection to memory is a big part of the holiday, and people frequently prepare favorite dishes of deceased loved ones.  In some parts of the world, people hold picnics on top of graves.

The Lemonator and I have enjoyed participating in public Dia de Los Muertos festivities for several years, but for the first time, we are having a home celebration, as well, complete with pan de muerto:  a delicious brioche-like sweet bread that is arguably the one indispensable part of a Dia de Los Muertos celebration.  

Here is the recipe he used:

Ingredients
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup (half a stick) margarine or butter, cut into 8 pieces
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 package active dry yeast
1/4 cup very warm water
1 eggs
3 cups all-purpose flour, unsifted
1/2 teaspoon anise seed
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 teaspoons sugar

Instructions: Bring milk to boil and remove from heat. Stir in margarine or butter, 1/4 cup sugar and salt.

In large bowl, mix yeast with warm water until dissolved and let stand 5 minutes. Add the milk mixture.

Separate the yolk and white of one egg. Add the yolk to the yeast mixture, but save the white for later. Now add flour to the yeast and egg. Blend well until dough ball is formed.

Flour a pastry board or work surface very well and place the dough in center. Knead until smooth. Return to large bowl and cover with dish towel. Let rise in warm place for 90 minutes. Meanwhile, grease a baking sheet and preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Knead dough again on floured surface. Now divide the dough into fourths and set one fourth aside. Roll the remaining 3 pieces into “ropes.”

On greased baking sheet, pinch 3 rope ends together and braid. Finish by pinching ends together on opposite side. Divide the remaining dough in half and form 2 “bones.” Cross and lay them atop braided loaf.

Cover bread with dish towel and let rise for 30 minutes. Meanwhile, in a bowl, mix anise seed, cinnamon and 2 teaspoons sugar together. In another bowl, beat egg white lightly.

When 30 minutes are up, brush top of bread with egg white and sprinkle with sugar mixture, except on cross bones. Bake at 350 degrees for 35 minutes.

Makes 8 to 10 servings.

The Lemonator and I set up a small shrine on the end of our kitchen table today.  It’s really nice to have time set aside to reminisce about the people we miss.  Our culture is so uncomfortable with death that it can be hard to find space to grieve a loss.  This holiday is an occasion to do that.

I bought a traditional decorated sugar skull at the farmers market.  The rosary is made of seeds called Job’s tears, which felt appropriate

The Lemonator added some German figurines that remind him of his Opa.

The beerstein is also for Opa, naturally.  The book is for my grandfather, who was rarely found without a paperback thriller within arms reach.  We used to sit and read together.

My grandparents gave me the pen for my eighth grade graduation.  It’s the only nice pen I’ve ever owned.  My grandpa was a cheerleader at heart and liked nothing better than taking pride in the people he loved, especially his grandchildren.

I inherited the jewelry from my mom’s Aunt Buzzy, who was the only redhead in my family besides me.  She brought them back from a trip to Scotland.   I don’t know if Aunt Buzzy ever celebrated Day of the Dead in her life, but I know deep in my gut that she would have absolutely loved everything about it, and I always think of her when the holiday rolls around.

And, of course, a bouquet of marigolds, which are the traditional flower of the holiday.

It smells good in the apartment right now–like a mix of flowers and cinnamon sugar and burning candles.  It feels really good to be able to talk about the people we miss.  Our society is so uncomfortable around death, and this holiday is a reminder that death doesn’t have to be scary or even always sad.  Death is a part of life, and the link between them is worthy of recognition and even celebration.  The Lemonator and I are planning meals for the next two days that incorporate foods that remind us of our loved ones.  I will post the recipes and the memories tied to them tomorrow.  Until then, be well, and may all your memories be sweet.

[EDIT:  I just remembered this post Heather wrote recently--while not about Day of the Dead specifically, it's a very appropriate reflection about food and loss and memory.]

Like last year, I would like to offer the comment space for anyone who would like to share a memory–food related or otherwise–about someone who has died.