Rigatoni and Responsibility

It’s safe to say that the absence of a post since November is pretty ridiculous. I mean, I had to update my age in my profile! There have been more than a few food adventures in the meantime, but a recent one sticks out as very special. The meal itself, rigatoni with Newman’s Own marinara and a little parmesan cheese, wasn’t the highlight. It has more to do with the circumstances.

See, for the past three years, I’ve been cooking in a hot second floor kitchen, experimenting with recipes, and sharing my creations with several roommates. For four years prior to that, I was eating all my daily meals in a dining hall with close friends. As much as I value those years of community, and I truly do, I recently accomplished something that I wasn’t sure would happen during my time living in New York.

I got my own kitchen.

That kitchen is part of my very own apartment and initially I was worried that half of the living space is made up of counters and appliances. But then I realized that my kitchen IS my living room. Even for someone living on her own, the kitchen is the center of the home – for me it’s just literal. Add a spacious bedroom, full bath, and a true walk-in closet and you’ve got a single girl’s dream place. (Not to mention free utilities and laundry).

So while a simple pasta dinner is nothing unusual for my evening menu, taking a seat at my own dining room table to have a bite of that first meal and a sip of Pennsylvania Dutch birch beer (in honor of the ultimate homeland) really is far beyond special.

Baking with Apple Butter

Though I have a strong love for food and cooking, I’ve never really been one to bake. It’s certainly not for a lack of influence – with one grandmother being an absolute authority on apple pie and the other gaining national (NY, VA, and MN) acclaim for a certain sour cream cookie. My mother has inherited a good deal of this oven expertise with her cherry cheesecakes and coveted pumpkin rolls, which she makes every year in batches of at least a dozen and hand-delivers to the family. Even my brother has taught himself to bake his own soft pretzels. I have no shortage of baking background, but I still feel like an apprentice.

My experience with oven-baked entrees, however, has been growing. This Friday I made a tasty mushroom, tomato, and mozzarella pasta casserole. It really hit the spot… so much so, that I am down to my last bowl of leftovers for dinner tonight. I’m quickly learning that the casserole is one of the most beautiful dishes on earth – throw almost anything together with some cheese and breadcrumbs and you’re set.

I guess I was inspired to keep the oven-fires burning, (despite the sixty-degree weather), so I got out a recipe for Apple Butter Cupcakes. For those unfamiliar, apple butter is a variation of apple sauce, where the sugar in the apples is allowed to cook long enough to caramelize. The result is darker, sweeter, and awesome on crackers, bread, or, as it turns out, piped into the center of a cupcake.

The batter is a basic mixture of butter, sugar, eggs, flour, soda, nutmeg, and vanilla and I tossed in chopped Macintosh apples for texture. Now I am a spoon-licker with the best of them, but with this batter I was seriously in danger of not being able to make a full two dozen.

Once they were nice and golden, I let them cool before poking the center with a chopstick and filling each with a squirt of pure Pennsylvania Dutch apple butter (imported!). The recipe called for a pastry bag, but a plastic baggie worked just fine. So did Betty Crocker’s cream cheese icing. I could have attempted that one, but I figured the cupcakes were the star, so a little dab of store-bought icing wouldn’t hurt. Besides, when has store-bought ever bothered me?

The result was pretty much a success – the roommates and several of my coworkers benefited from my experiment and not one made a face (at least not that I saw). With a bunch of leftover ingredients, I think I’ll make them again next week for a Thanksgiving dinner with friends. Perhaps even a third time for the family dinner… let’s be honest, I just want more batter.

Pick Your Pickle

Today was a unique day in New York City. I couldn't resist such a culinary holiday taking place just a short train ride away, so on this warm, bright October day I found myself at the Ninth Annual International Pickle Festival.

How could I not go? I have always been a pickle fan. I used to be the little short-round swiftly unloading the pickle and olive tray at Christmas parties. I gave a best friend a big jar of dills for her birthday one year (she too is a fan, don't worry). And I'm pretty sure I wore a pair of pink pickle boxers to a college party once upon a time. Clearly this was my kind of festival.

My solitary goal, (besides the obligatory photo taking), was to indulge in a few of the fried morsels I had eaten only once before at a local fair. Surely a Pickle Festival would have a big vat of these delightful bites. After making a few laps around the parking lot fairgrounds at Broome and Ludlow, I saw pickle pins, pickle t-shirts, pickle history lessons, and even a person in a pickle suit, but I couldn't find anything even resembling a fryer.

I decided to get in line for a pickle-on-a-stick from Horman's Best, based in Glen Cove, New York. It was $1, which, when you consider how many pickles come in a $3 jar of Vlasic, seems outrageous; however, I found it to be a wonderful if not slightly suggestive snack. I'm sure every one of the 25 people enjoying the pickle-on-a-stick at the very same time had the very same thought, but trust me, all blushing was set aside in order to savor the kosher goodness.

I didn't get a chance to try any of the kimchi (Korean pickled vegetables) that was available but I did find a free sample of a peanut butter and pickle sandwich.

Take a moment.

It actually wasn't too bad, but I'm certainly not about to hop in the kitchen and prepare one of these things for my lunch tomorrow. All I wanted was a fried pickle! And that's when I saw a woman walk by with something breaded on a mini paper plate. So I made the rounds once again until I found the Whole Foods stand. I had previously passed by this stand several times because really, what could they have? Turns out they had free fried pickles -- well, one free fried pickle about the size of a nickel next to a blob of spicy mustard. First of all, I prefer ketchup, not mustard, with my pickles, and second, the nickel pickle wasn't that great. At least the mission was accomplished.

The afternoon was redeemed by trying a Fizzy Lizzy all-natural juice spritzer -- one of the very few beverages available to purchase, besides Dixie cups of wine. I had Costa Rican Pineapple and it was a nice, refreshing drink, but I'll admit I just kept thinking it would be a great mixer for Malibu rum. Hey, at least it's all-natural.

It was a really fun day in one of my favorite neighborhoods and even though I knew I wouldn't be the only attendee sporting a little green, I had no idea how many people in the LES own green footwear. I'll need to do some shopping before next year...

Step-by-Step Sushi

It was worth the wait. "It" being sushi. I have been waiting since before college for various friends to take me for sushi because I was just too nervous to go alone. It wasn’t the dining alone, of course. I have regular “date nights” where I go out to a solo dinner and a movie. I find something exciting and yet also relaxing about choosing where to go and what to have – having only to please myself.


As for the sushi, it was the food itself that made me nervous. I don’t know why – I love fish and seafood and the look of maki rolls had always appealed to me. I guess this was one of those rare times when I preferred a guide to help me embark on a new and interesting cuisine. My pointed evasion of sushi lasted quite a long time until I started trying various non-raw rolls like California, Philadelphia, Boston, cucumber, and avocado. Something about ordering Japanese food only with the names of U.S. cities made me feel like I was cheating. Sushi, after all, is more than just the familiar rolls and most contain some raw element. It was time for the next step.

I broke out my sushi mat from Pearl River Mart and made my own California rolls at home with a little help from Sunrise Mart on Stuyvesant Street. Much like the excitement of ordering dinner for one, I got a kick out of browsing through a grocery store that featured packages with little-to-no English. I found SushiParty soy wrappers to take the place of Nori (the seaweed sheets used to wrap maki) and because I knew I wouldn’t have the patience to make rice, I bought a pint from Sushi Hana in Brooklyn. I rolled carefully (one with rice inside and one with rice outside) and the result was both tasty and colorful - the soy wrappers come in green, pink, orange and yellow.

Finally, a few weeks ago, a friend took me as his guest to a restaurant called Jin on the Lower East Side with a large group of his cast mates. I ordered a Shrimp Tempura roll – again, nothing raw about it, but I thought it would be a tiny step up from a plain old veggie roll. My friend – one of the friends who had planned to take me out for sushi – fulfilled the plan by offering me a piece of either Spicy Tuna or Spicy Salmon roll, which I accepted. It’s ridiculous; I don’t even remember which fish was my first raw fish experience!

I loved it. I guess the way I was chewing made my friend think I was going to spit it out, but I really did like it. Let's say I was trying to take in the moment and really enjoy the flavor. There are still many other raw pieces of Japanese cuisine that I should try, like a big hunk of sashimi, but I was happy to have finally taken my big step of eating raw sushi. I had unnecessarily built up the occasion, but it did not disappoint in the least. If I knew what kind it was, I would definitely order it again!

Lasagna... a Little Late

Understatement: It’s been a while. But don’t worry; I’ve still been eating and even cooking a bit. Most recently, (and by that I mean I have over half a pan of leftovers), I made my first lasagna from scratch. Well, this morning someone asked me if I made the noodles – honestly, who does that? I’ll take a little help from Ronzoni, thanks. But other than that, I assembled a pretty tasty layering of spinach (my fear of this vegetable has subsided), mushrooms, and the usual cheeses with a white cream sauce.

I’ve picked up a lot of interesting techniques and terms from watching and reading about food, but one that has continued to scare me is “roux.” I started hearing this word a while back on several Food Network shows, but had no idea what they were talking about. Apparently it serves as the first step in making your own macaroni and cheese, which is something that is still high on my list of culinary aspirations. I love you deeply, Kraft, but there’s something rewarding about answering “yes” to the question, “Did you really make this?”

So in order to answer “yes” to my lasagna, I needed a roux which would, in turn, become a béchamel sauce. Seriously, not that difficult, but somehow butter, flour, and milk together on the stove with simultaneous whisking and pouring made me nervous. I started with a recipe from Emeril Lagasse, which could have been overwhelming – I don’t usually find him to be the every-cook kind of teacher – but this recipe was totally detailed and spelled out how many minutes you should stir anything before adding something new. Good man, Emeril, good man.

Complete with Parmesan and seasoning, I was proud of my homemade cream sauce, but I still had to put the thing together and bake it. Thanks to my newly repaired oven, the baking only took the forty approximated minutes – without having to open and close the door to regulate temperature. I also warmed a Tuscan Ring from Amy's Bread in the village -- still a favorite, that Amy.

After letting it cool, (and cooling myself off with a shower, since I picked the hottest day of the week to use the oven), I was cutting into my pride and joy when my roommate returned from an ugly day at work – really, any Saturday you’re at work is ugly. She was grateful for the supper and even had seconds, so I’m chalking this one up to a success (never mind the photograph, it does not look appealing, I know).

Next week we are going to see “Julie & Julia” and I am, of course, very excited. I read the book before any rumors started that it would be adapted and I have a feeling it will make a great transition. Stay tuned for what I hope (with the help of Meryl-as-Julia) will be a torrent of new cooking adventures.

California Eating

My first meal on my first trip to California could be only one thing. I insisted that my brother and his wife pull the rental car into the one, the only - (actually one of over 200 locations) - In and Out Burger. I was pleased with the tasty burger and shoe-string fries - and believe me, I know burgers and fries from eight years of working at a lunch stand in Pennsylvania. What surprised me, though, was that we weren't really "in and out" as quickly as one might hope. In that respect, I think this place lives up to it's reputation, but not so much it's name.

Our next day was what I like to refer to as "a good food day." Usually I can't come to this conclusion until I've had at least two meals, but the small items we did get as we drove to and through San Francisco really made for a great food day. We made our way up north (my cousin, who we were visiting, lives in Lemoore, which is pretty much the dead-center of California) and stopped first at the Jelly Belly Factory, where we took a tour and got some free jellybeans. When a giant sign pointed to a sale on "belly flops," my very smart and observant sister-in-law explained that it must refer to factory seconds, which I thought was hysterical.

After getting back in the car, we relied on the GPS lady, Garmina, as we did for much of the weekend, to get us on the right path to cross the Golden Gate bridge. Before we did so, we decided to stop in a little town called San Rafael directly north of San Francisco and Oakland to get gas and lunch. We stopped in a little taqueria and had basically the best burritos ever and some really good guacamole. That's one food reason that I am jealous of the west coast -- great Mexican food.

We drove right over that big, orange and glorious bridge into San Francisco and found a parking space right in the middle of Fisherman's Wharf. It was a bit busy with (other) tourists, but it was cool to see all the boats and a nice view of Alcatraz Island. All I wanted in San Fran was a bread bowl of soup, so we walked to Boudin, a bistro and bakery known for their sourdough. Our bowls were filled with really good clam chowder and, thanks to my brother's forward thinking, we took what was left of our bread to eat in the car on the way back to Lemoore. Definitely a "good food day" by then!

On Saturday, we had lunch and ice cream sundaes from Superior Dairy in Hanford, CA. I thought they were outrageously priced, but when I saw how big they were, all was explained. None of us finished them. Sunday belonged to the beverages. Wine, to be exact. With guidance from my cousin, a recently converted wino, we stopped at Tobin James, EOS, and Eberle vineyards in Paso Robles, two of which had free tastings. That blows my mind, but it was really fun to be a part of that culture for an afternoon.

I could have eaten a few more burritos or tacos, but overall I think California offered some great food and I'm looking forward to planning the menu for the next trip!

She's Got Leftovers for Days

So I've suddenly (well, as of two weeks ago) found myself with a lot of time on my hands. For the most part, this isn't a good thing for me, because I am very much a worker-type. I can appreciate a restful break, don't get me wrong, but I find it hard to fill my time lately. With no day-to-day commitments, I decided it might be a good time to tackle some of the recipes I've been meaning to try.

That was the intention, but the reality is that, because of the overwhelming guilt everyone feels over spending any money, I've been preparing recipes on a large scale so I can eat for a few days on only a few dollars. There is both leftover minestrone and mushroom risotto in the freezer even now. As you can imagine, eating the same thing for three days straight can be frustrating for a food-lover/aspiring cook. To mix it up last night I made an easy recipe from the Kraft Food & Family magazine. My grandma suggested I subscribe to it and since it's completely free except for the occasional annoyance of an e-issue in my inbox, I think it's a great idea.

I tried Spinach-Pasta Toss, which is somewhat surprising because I usually don't eat spinach in any form. I have to say though, I bought a 6-oz bag, which I've been using for salads all week and it still looks full. Talk about a good deal. Anyway, the dish only required a can of diced tomatoes, two cups of whole-grain penne, and one cup of water all boiled together and then simmered for 10 minutes. Then you add a handful of flat-leaf spinach, stir it around for a minute, and serve it all with some Italian cheese on top.

Simple and cheap, but I have to say, the photograph in the magazine is what grabbed my attention. Those food stylists know what they're doing. I'm sure my photo doesn't compare, but the food was delicious and I'm actually looking forward to having the leftovers this afternoon!

Coconut Milk and Birch Beer

By far, my strangest trip to the grocery store to date.

I know that after a while... after several hundred average trips to the store... once in a while a person is bound to enter with a mental list of two items and exit with a bag full of oddities. Odd as in a small jar of curry powder, a can of coconut milk, and a 12-pack of Pennsylvania Dutch birch beer. Don't get me wrong, all of these items have specific purposes. They are destined to either aid in the creation of my newest recipe or at least satisfy my craving for carbonation, but some how seeing 10 very different items on one receipt just makes you laugh.

I set out tonight to try a recipe I found in a cookbook I received as a gift. From my guacamole adventure this past weekend, I have a significant amount of cilantro left to use up and I thought it might be interesting to try Coconut Curry Chicken, which features a teaspoon of said green leaves. Not too involved, but definitely different than anything I've made before. Only problem was I had no coconut and no curry. Got the chicken, though.

This led me to my amusing mid-week trip to Pathmark -- not a bad time to go, mind you. I found my two items and then of course had to pick up two oranges, garlic powder, and bagels. Oh, and a pint of Turkey Hill ice cream, because (a) it's a favorite from the homeland and (b) I was out. With $20 less in my checking account and a case of birch beer in my arm, I was off.

I made the dish pretty quickly and served it over white rice, but the curry wasn't as thick as I have seen in the past. It wasn't as spicy as the indian food I've had either, but that was okay by me. I think if I could make the sauce just a little heavier, I would definitely make it again. Of course, now I have two thirds of can of coconut milk to use up...

Special Day Scallops

Chocolate. Balloons. Flowers. Lingerie.

Scallops. That's what I purchased this Valentine's Day and all for me! I'm not a current proponent of this holiday, but I'm also not the cliche "woe is me," bitter, single girl who despises an innocent Saturday. I decided to treat February 14th, 2009 as a special day indeed, but minus the red and pink (I wear those colors enough on a daily basis). I wanted to do some exploring - to really try out my "beyond the recipe" adventure. I wanted to go where the wind took me and really just get lost in my city... well, as lost as a New Yorker can get when there are fourteen subway trains with weekend service advisories. I mean, you have to plan a little bit, right?

I ended up at a few of my old favorite (and new favorite) places. I made an important purchase at Pearl River Mart... my first sushi mat. I've been playing with the idea of making my own rolls, but since I have yet to try anything besides a roll bearing the name of a US city or state, I'm guessing I should expand my palate a bit more. I got a new card case for all my printed recipes at Pearl Paint and then made my way to Chelsea Market on 15th and 9th. I can't say exactly what I thought I would find, but somehow it wasn't quite that. I liked the variety and quality of the shops and the atmosphere is definitely worth taking visitors to, but for someone who normally shops from the Pathmark circular, the Market is a bit pricey.

Still, I managed to set aside my hesitations and put some of the fresh paper in my wallet to good use. After receiving my free chocolate sample (see, it's not such a bad day), I found the Manhattan Fruit Exchange. I picked up some tomatoes, a cucumber and an unripened avocado. I realized when I got home that I don't know if an avocado should be in the fridge. It's not, thank you Google.

I then found a few items in Buon Italia, including my first orb of mozzarella di bufala. Should go nicely with the tomatoes from MFE and a little basil and olive oil (which I'll probably be buying at Pathmark on Monday... on sale). I also got a fantastic mini loaf of rosemary bread at Amy's Bread, which is definitely a place to go back to.

Finally, I made my way to the Lobster Place. I took my time looking at all the fresh fish, lobster, and incredibly expensive crab meat. I also noticed some chefs and cooks passing through, clearly picking up their "Catch of the Day" for tonight's dinner crowd. It was almost like what you see on the Food Network... which is upstairs at Chelsea Market by the way. No luck seeing any famous faces yet. I picked up five large dry scallops and a small container of fresh lobster bisque for lunch.

My own "special day" dinner was pretty great and actually came about without a recipe for once. I went into the kitchen at about 6:00 with some pasta and some scallops and ended up wanting to finish the leftovers except that I want to save it for another meal! I figured I would wait to give the scallops my undivided attention since I have never really cooked with seafood before, so on with the pasta. I boiled some linguine and made a packet of Knorr garlic and herb sauce (seriously, if you live in a city and understand the difficulty of carrying groceries eleven stops on the train, then two blocks to your apartment, these $1.00 packets of dry sauce mix beat the hell out of glass jars of Ragu). After that, I sauteed those little buggers in what was probably a bit too much butter (Paula Deen would disagree) and served myself a nice plate complete with a slice of rosemary bread. All in all, I'm pretty proud of my special day travels and treasures.

And I only rolled my eyes at a couple on the street once!

Breakfast is the most important meal...

My dad does french toast. It's his thing. He's made it for as long as I can remember, whether the family was spending the weekend at my Grandma's place in the mountains or my brother and I just happened to wake up at an acceptable hour on a Saturday. He once told me that he made breakfast because he wanted to have the first opportunity to make someone smile in the morning.

I don't do french toast. In fact, there are few things I actually do when it comes to food besides boil, defrost, and heat up. My dad's theory about smiles has traveled with me to New York, however, and I've been known to cook up omelettes for friends spending the weekend. I'm not yet sure if omelettes are "my thing" but I really enjoy finding new recipes and trying my hand with different ingredients. I like the feeling of gathering individual pieces and building them into something new, which I can in turn share it with others (at least a photograph).

I plan to spend most of my blogging time on the various recipes I tackle as well as perhaps the occasional account of my trips to Pathmark. Who knows, I may veer off the path once in a while, but for the most part, I love food and I think I'm going to love writing about it.

Oh, and even though I do omelettes, it wasn't until just last month that I managed to fry an egg. Where I come from, it's called a dippy egg, so I thought that was a logical place to start. And so begins my Life Beyond the Recipe.