DO: Make this soup if you like chickpeas. Because you use three cans of them.

DON’T use baby spinach as your green, because they will get slimy (Yes. Sorry) and will be the worst thing about this soup.

DO use one of those hand blender things (or even a potato masher) to mash this up a little if you want. Or…

DON’T if you want chunky soup to throw over cous cous or rice.

DO bring this to your next soup swap.

DO you like chickpeas as much as I do?

Rainbow Chard with Chickpea stew

Smashed chickpea sandwich

The Chickpea stays in the picture (or all about my first time soaking raw chickpeas)

I bet you DON’T!

This is why I’m the Bad Home Cook and you’re not.

I tried to make a simple fruit and spinach smoothie this afternoon and nearly failed. Why? Why can’t I do the simplest things?

I have a big ol’ Osterizer blender. Why did it take me FOUR tries to get the thing to actually blend?

No, I didn’t Google “how to make a smoothie,” because I was assured by my yoga friend that all you needed to do was throw a cup of mango cubes, one banana and some spinach into a blender and blend away. Looking up precise instructions would take the fun out of it and besides, it’s a smoothie, right? It’s not like cooking up a rack of lamb or something.

And yet. When I put everything into the blender, the blender wouldn’t blend it. ARRGGGGG!!!! So TYPICAL! WTF??

OK. Here’s what happened:

I’m at yoga, and my friend Manjuree is telling me how she’s always trying to eat healthier and how she’s gotten even her two little boys hooked on fruit smoothies. So easy to make, she said. And so easy to get them to eat more fruit and veg.

Smoothies.  I know, it’s not even a trend anymore. Everyone does it. Everyone but me. There’s even a whole green monster smoothie thing going. A few years ago a friend came over and made me an avocado smoothie and, well, meh. It was ok, I suppose, but honestly, way too green and healthy and…well, I prefer my avocados spread on toast or chopped up in a nice guacamole.

But I’ve been reading Michael Pollan’s Food Rules, and In the Defense of Food, and also The China Study, and I’ve been thinking I need to sit down and look at what I’m really eating. Hence the idea to try a mango and banana smoothie today. It would be a good way to get more fruits and veggies into my diet. And the boy would love it, probably.

So that afternoon I go to Trader Joe’s and I buy frozen mango chunks. Bananas. A bag of spinach.

And I follow these simple instructions:

Chunks of frozen mango...

Then chop up ONE banana:

the chop of one banana

I added a handful of spinach leaves too. As long as I was being healthy…

The triptych...

“Don’t I need some kind of liquid?” I asked Manjuree. “Like hemp milk or coconut water or something?”

“Nothing but the fruit,” she said.

OK, I said. BUT…

It won't blend...Why not?

When I tried to blend it, the blade just went around and around at the bottom, blending nothing.  I couldn’t figure it out. It’s a BLENDER, right? What was I doing wrong?

So I took the jar off the motorized based and tried to mix up the fruit etc. with a wooden spoon. Then I tried again. Nada. I tried a third time, completely perplexed. I could see some movement at least. The blade would catch a chunk of fruit and blend it, which I hoped would jumpstart the rest of it. I let it blend for a good minute on high. But it didn’t blend any further.

So I added a glurp of rice milk, just to see what would happen. I turned the blender on high and waited.

And waited.

And FINALLY, the thing caught, and all was blended per the original plan.

Jebus. This smoothie had better have some properties addressing high blood pressure.

I used a little too much spinach, because everything turned an unappetizing shade of green, circa my mom’s 1972 kitchen remodel. The boy will never eat that, I thought. And after all that trouble.

Tastes way better than it looks

But I tried it and although it was pretty thick, it was also pretty dang tasty. I brought it up to the boy and asked him to try it. He did, and deemed it worthy. “I like it,” he said, taking another slurp. “But some constructive criticism?”

Hit me, I said.

“It’s a little too thick and hard to drink,” he said. “And why is it green?”

Well never mind, I told him. As long as you like it and I like it. I have no plans on showing the Drama Teen because I can imagine the look she’ll give me. And I don’t need that sort of abuse right now.

So. My first ever fruit smoothie. Eventually, it worked out. I’ll be trying this again, and ideally, I’ll get it down to a science, but you never know with me.

Feel free to chortle at my expense in the meantime. At least I got a blogpost out of it.

Another day, another question of what in Hades was I to make for dinner that both nits would eat. My life is so predictable.

But wait!

Vegetarian skillet gnocchi with chard and white beans. From Dorothy’s ever-worthy Shockingly Delicious blog.

That did indeed sound shockingly delicious. At least to me. But would the nits eat it?

I decided I didn’t care anymore. They can eat breakfast cereal for dinner. I would be making this.

Here is Dorothy’s recipe, itself a riff on an Eating Well recipe of a few years ago. Dorothy made some changes, because, well because she knows what she’s doing.

Me? I made some changes myself, and because I’m getting a little better, the results were happy indeed. But I didn’t have chard and I didn’t have cannellini beans. Nor do I have a non-stick skillet that big, with a cover.

As always, I worked with what I had. Here’s the recipe:

• 1 1/2Tablespoon olive oil, divided

• 1 16-ounce package shelf-stable gnocchi (Trader Joe’s has this – two kinds, even!)

• 1 yellow onion, thinly sliced

• 4 or 5 cloves garlic, finely minced

• 1/2 cup water

• 6 cups chopped chard (I didn’t have chard, so I used mixed greens from TJ’s…again, no problemo)

• 1 15-ounce can of diced tomatoes in juice. Dorothy gussied hers up with a variety of spices. I tossed in a few shakes of “pasta seasoning and was done with it.

• 1 15-ounce can of white beans. The recipe called for cannellini beans, but I used butter beans instead, which is what I had. I imagine garbanzos would be nice too, but the boy doesn’t like those. (The butter beans were soft and mimicked the gnocchi, which I enjoyed).

• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

• 1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese

• 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
• Dorothy mentioned next time she made this she’d try a splash of red wine. I tried this and it didn’t seem to hurt.

Starting to smell good...

Heat a tablespoon of oil in a large non-stick skilled. Saute the gnocchi until they’re plump and just starting to brown. About 5 to 7 minutes. Transfer these into a bowl and set aside.

Add the other teaspoon and saute the onions. Cook for about 2 minutes, then add the garlic, stir, wait a few seconds until you can smell them, then add the water.

Cover and cook on low, about 4-6 minutes, until the onion is soft. Add the chard or whatever green you’re using. Toss lightly with the onions and garlic and, just as it’s starting to wilt, stir in the tomatoes, beans and pepper. Season expertly. Bring to a simmer. Stir in the gnocchi and sprinkle with the cheeses. Cover and cook until the cheese is melted and the sauce is bubbling. About three minutes.

Throw in a splash of red wine whenever you think is best. I did after the tomatoes and beans…

Serves 5 to 6.

So quick! So Easy!

One glitch (because what kind of tedious blog would this be without my glitches?)

The only skillet I had that was big enough isn’t non-stick. Frying up the gnocchi, even in olive oil, stuck to the pan and promised an even bigger mess down the road.

carbs and protein and dark leafy greens, Oh My!

So I switched over to my paella pan – a lovely large non-stick surface and that worked fine. BUT, I don’t have a cover for the paella pan. So nothing got to simmer under cover.

No matter. It all worked out.

Good enough for me!

Yeah, but did the kids eat it? The girl did. The boy turned his nose up. I never know who’s going to eat what around here.

I ate some for breakfast the next day. And lunch. And I’m putting it into the weeknight rotation, too. Try and stop me.

I can't hear you, I have peas in my ears.

This dish didn’t go over too well with me first time I made it. Something about peas, onions, Parmesan and first trimester pregnancy didn’t play well together, and after I’d served everyone else I ran to the bathroom to heave for the next 30 minutes.

This was when I was pregnant with child number two, the boy, so you’d think I’d have known better than to soldier on making it after that first inkling of nausea.

I couldn’t even look at orecchietti for years after that without urping.

But, time heals everything, and 11 years on, I pulled this recipe out of my well-thumbed Moosewood Restaurant Cooks at Home and thought it sounded good and easy enough to make for a weeknight dinner.

I riffed on this recipe:
4 medium onions (about 4 cups, sliced)
1 tablespoon olive oil
4 cups fresh or frozen green peas (about one pound)
salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 pound orecchietti (“little ears”)
Freshly grated Pecorino cheese (about 1 cup)

While pasta water boils, slice the onions and saute them until they begin to brown. Add the peas and salt and pepper to taste, and cook a few minutes longer. Add two tablespoons of the hot pasta water to the skillet, stir, reduce the heat, and cover.

Cook the little ears until they’re al dente, then drain, throw it back in the pot and toss it with the grated cheese. Top with peas and onions and serve immediately.

I only sliced one onion, I used about a cup of frozen peas, and I used Parmesan cheese. Still delicious.

Strangely enough, the boy wouldn’t eat it. Memories from within the womb?

Who cares.  It fed me well for dinner and lunch the next day.

Where have you been all my life?

First, the name made me smile. “Found Object.” Clever. But since it was part of a large display in the aisle of Trader Joe’s, it wasn’t hard to find.

Secondly, it’s a Carmenere. No idea what that’s supposed to be.

Thirdly, nobody working at the time had tried it. None of the checkers, not the manager, not my go-to wine guy. So this Found Object was a complete mystery.

I like a good mystery as much as the next gal. I procured. Here’s the verdict:

Decent, in a bright and shiny sorta way. A little fruity on the palate, and a few snarly tannins, but what do you expect from a $6.99 wine?  Overall, however, I found this Found Object to be quite drinkable.

Come to find out, a Carmenere is the Chilean signature grape. And come to find out, about a month later, that the crew at my Trader’s seems to prefer the Found Object Syrah. Hmm. Well, I’ll tackle that mystery next time then.

For now, I’m glad I Found this Object. Try it. You might be glad you stumbled upon it too. Let me know what you think.

Quinoa, not fish eggs...

I didn’t even know how to pronounce quinoa until a few years ago,

“KeeNoA,” I said. “Isn’t that like a super grain the indians used to eat or something?”

“It’s pronounced “Keen-WA,” said my friend, who watched me silently while I danced around doing my best Karate Kid imitation.  “Keeeeen-WAAAAAAA!!!!”

When I was done she added, quite seriously; “It’s a very important and very nutritious grain.”

Well. That may be. But I was still very wary of our friend quinoa.

In my abject ignorance, it ranked up there with the sorts of vaguely frightening and definitely unpalatable foodstuffs like tempeh and spirulina that uber-healthy sorts eat. And since I’ve always felt like my love of rice and beans and lentils should adequately pay my rent in the healthy eating food space,  I didn’t have to go out there into the wild outback of unpronounceable grains.

But then I saw a recipe for something called Southwest quinoa salad. And for some reason, maybe it was the lunch hour, maybe it was the photograph, or the mention of black beans…it stuck and plagued me until I broke down and resolved to give it a whirl. Quinoa and everything.

First, I procured a box of quinoa from Trader Joe’s.

I riffed on this recipe I found on my lastest favorite blog, My Kitchen Addiction:

here’s her recipe, with my changes:

•    1 cup quinoa
•    2 cups water
•    15 ounce can of black beans, rinsed and drained
(or about 2 cups cooked black beans)
•    3 ears of steamed corn, cut off the cob (yeah right. It’s jan. I used one 15-ounce can of corn)
 …or 2 cups frozen corn kernels, thawed
•    1 red bell pepper, diced
•    1/2 red onion, chopped
•    Handful of fresh cilantro, chopped

•    Kosher salt
•    Freshly ground black pepper
•    Mixed greens (optional)
•    Avocado slices (optional)

I rinsed the quinoa first. It’s very small and light and a lot of it floats. So you have to strain it through a fine mesh.

Cook the quinoa in the water in a saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a boil, then cover and simmer for about 15 minutes. Remove from the heat and let it sit for another 5 minutes.

While you’re cooking the quinoa, chop the veggies and prepare the lime cilantro dressing:

Use the good chili powder, from Little India:

Dune

•    1 lime (zest and juice)
•    3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
•    1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
•    1 teaspoon chili powder
•    1 tablespoon agave syrup ( I used honey)

A zesty enterprise..

Mix all the veggies in a bowl…

And add the COOLED quinoa. Toss with the dressing and refrigerate for a few hours. Serve over greens….

On the bed of greens...

The Drama Teen inspected this. “Are you making fish eggs?” she asked. No, I said. It’s quinoa.

She’s gotta learn this from someone, right?

I dished this out and passed it around. it looked good to me, but who knows what it tasted like.

Verdict?

“Excellent,” said the lovely ex. And then fixed me with a look. “Who are you and what have you done with Julie?”

Audrey, a kitchen goddess, also praised this salad. “I can’t eat all that,” she said, when I presented her with a plate. And then she finished it all.  I was thrilled. Because Audge knows good eatin’.

I’m warming up to quinoa. I’m not so afraid. It’s not so crunchy after all. I think I can work with it.

I think next time I’ll try this recipe. It includes feta cheese, and cooks the quinoa in chicken broth. A sinful (and flavorful) way to counteract the holy righteousness of quinoa.

Keeeeen-WAAAA!!!”

It's the wrong rice, Gromit!

I still astound myself sometimes.

Yesterday for the Drama Teen’s party, I thought I’d make a dozen or so O-nigiri — those rice triangles the Japanese eat as sandwiches. Many of her friends study Japanese as she does and are similarly as obsessed with manga, anime, and all things Japanese.

So I get out my Japanese rice. Wait a minute. Turns out I only have a bag of sweet rice. Why is that? Suddenly I’m confused. Isn’t this the same as sushi rice, which is also “sticky?” Why would I have a bag of this if it’s not the same thing?

I read the back. It says it’s excellent for Japanese confections, which I’m not making today, but maybe one year, so maybe it is the same thing. It must be, I tell myself. So I go ahead and make a big pot of this, hoping for the best.

For as disorganized and unskilled as I am in the kitchen, I do have a way with rice, for whatever reason. And Japanese rice, in particular, has to be made in a certain way or it won’t come out.

Alas. This rice came out perfectly. But it was the wrong kind of rice for O-nigiri. Wayyyy too sticky to work with. FAIL!

Now I’ve got a big old pot of sticky rice and no ideas what to do with it. Any ideas?

How much do you suppose I paid for this 8-ounce box of smoked salt?

Fancy box of smoked salt

I read about it somewhere, so I was prepared to spend a little more than I normally would on salt, which is to say, more than I’ve ever thought about paying for salt, since I rarely think about salt.

I paid this much.

But it’s imported from England! And it’s organic! And I’ve read that Jamie Oliver uses it on everything, which shouldn’t sway me in any respect, but did. Hence, my $6 8-ounces of salt.

But it is good. I use it on lots of things. In particular, I’ve been using it to finish off sauteed greens. I’ve been really into those lately. I think my body must be trying to tell me something.

Greens in a skillet

I buy a big ol’ bag of greens (mustard greens, spinach, turnip) from Trader Joe’s. I sautee a clove or two of garlic in a little olive oil, then I add a handful or two of greens, mix ‘em up, dump a very small amount of water in there (about 1/4 cup?), and cover. After about 5 minutes I sprinkle with this smoked sea salt.

Salty language

So easy. So green and…tangy. The salt gives it just the kick it needs to send it over the top. I eat this on top of rice and beans and I’m just happy as a sand boy.

I mean, look at this!

eat your greens...

So. Yes, I paid $6 for smoked sea salt. Does that make me some sort of foodie?

Discuss…

Happy Childhood Memories

Quick! When you think of your childhood kitchen, what are the foods you see? What were your favorite things to eat? What were the treats? What pops into your mind first. Don’t overthink.

Because please. I don’t wanna hear about your mother’s crepes or your bubbie’s noodle kugel. Or the organic, “fruit-juice-sweetened” vegan cookies you mother plied you with. Tell me about the crap you really ate.

Am I the only one who thinks of Twinkies? I didn’t think so.

Ah, Twinkies. So reviled. And yet so much a part of the collective American childhood.

My Mom never failed to buy a box of these every week. We also got a box of Ding Dongs and, if we were really lucky, a box of Ho-Hos. The Ho-Hos never lasted the night. The Ding Dongs tended to disappear quickly as well. That left the Twinkies. Still worthy, but the workhorse of our brown bag lunches.

Here’s a good writing exercise: How do you describe that unique Twinkie taste? Let me close my eyes and try to remember…

Because you had to smash your nose up into it to get a bite, you got an olfactory hit before you got to the sweet part. The smell?  Spongy plastic, but not unpleasant, as spongy plastic aromas go. The cake itself was chewy and engineered to seem fresh and light. The “cream” filling was where you got your real dose of treacle, and by that time you were committed. The whole thing could go down in three bites. One if you were a teenage boy.

I’ve always held that after the age of 13, you lose the ability to digest a Twinkie, and just as well. Once you gain any inkling of what really goes into them (no actual food), you move onto other treats, (or possibly recreational drugs.)

I haven’t had a Twinkie since those early teenage years. Our house had an ant problem, and one day I pulled a Twinkie out of the middle drawer where they were kept, found somebody had opened the packaging already. The ants were all inside, working furiously to break the thing down, but I only noticed when the Twinkie crumbled in my hand, eaten away from the inside, like a corpse. I can’t look at one now without shivering.

Yes, the news is that the company that makes Twinkies — Hostess — is filing bankruptcy, (second time in a decade) but Twinkies aren’t going away. The company is now owned by a private equity group, and this is how they go about breaking the unions and destroying the company from the inside out, not unlike the ants. Say what you will about processed crap food like Hostess products, they provided a lot of good jobs for American workers. Can’t have that, now can we? Twinkies are too much of an iconic brand to let go of. But maybe they’ll be made in China instead of here.

At least we know they’ll keep fresh on the boat over.

Photo from Waffle Whiffer’s totally cool Flickr set on Hostess Cakes

Please, sir, can I have some more?

It’s January again. You know what that means:

Time to swap some soup.

Now in its sixth year, the Soup Swap  has become something of a tradition. I actually held it at my house at least twice (maybe three times?) And had a huge lot of fun every time. This year, Kelli’s stepped up to host the Swap.

But that just means the bar has been raised to scary heights. This woman is a former restaurant pro turned-urban farmer extraordinaire. She raises her own chickens! And crafty? Oh God, I’m so not worthy…

Besides, everyone in town has had my Persian rice and yogurt soup at this point, so now the pressure’s on to make something awesome and yet entirely different.

But what? WHAT?

I pulled down a couple of cookbooks from Barbara’s collection. I’m thinking something with root vegetables. Something hearty, duh. For although it is sunny and warm here in SoCal, it it still technically winter everywhere else…

In, From Our House to Yours: There’s a white bean soup with winter greens that looks good.

There’s a carrot and coriander soup from the New Covent Garden Soup Company’s Book of Soups

There’s a corn chowder recipe I remember reading about. It was described as Orgasmic. Naturally I can’t find the link right now but I have incentive, don’t you think?

Stay tuned…

Photo (with soup recipe) from My Recipes.com