Monday, June 15, 2015

La Familia Esta Bien (The Family is Good)

There's no good reason to cook today.  We've eaten out both days of this weekend - last night at Bonefish and today at my in-law's home.  Cory is away for the weekend.  There is still some of the chili cockapitzy and most of the lasagna rolls.  I've been picking at the leftover mussels, and my mother in law sent us home with homemade chopped liver.  Finally, there's pastrami, and the sliced tongue.  Which brings up the need for sandwich bread.  Which creates the desire to bake bread.  Well, for me, maybe.  We don't need the bread immediately. We need crab fried rice.

If you like to eat in Bonefish, you have to try their crab fried rice, a new side dish.  There's an upcharge but it is so worth it. Rob had it with his ahi tuna yesterday and gave me a taste.  I will be attempting to recreate the dish in the next day or so.  I might eat a forkful.

Rob and I watch too many cooking and food-related television shows. I've come to that conclusion after sitting through several hours of Travel Channel's Paradise series, which has sparked a craving for chicken wings and loaded nachos.  I couldn't eat either one comfortably, but I can dream. Oh, chicken-fried steak and white gravy. Fried pickles. Damn. I really wish I could eat. When it came to dinner tonight, I knew I wouldn't be able to eat the lasagna roll because the spaghetti sauce is tomato based and tomato would surely burn a hole in my esophogus.  So I made half of a grilled cheese sandwich, ate half of that, and gave it back to the kitchen sink. Pauli Exclusion Principle. The only thing I've been able to eat, finish, and keep down was a macadamia-white chocolate chip cookie.  Good cookie. Tasty calories. Bad nutrition.

Today was a mixed day.  Mad back pain, and I had to use my cane for the first time in a while.  Spent a very nice afternoon with family, including an adorable little baby.

Rob's brother Ken; Dad; brother Charles; and Rob.


Rob's cousin Sheryl holding her (fifth!) grandchild; Sheryl's daughter, Stephanie; Sheryl's sister (and Rob's cousin) Cathi; and Mom. 

You gotta love stuff like this.  Well, I do.  Family is so fragile yet ever-changing, and nobody knows that better than me.  These pictures reminded me that when Robert and I first dated, Ken and Sheryl were seniors in high school, and Cathi even younger.


A long time ago, I stopped referring to Sheryl and Cathi as "Rob's cousins" and started calling them "my cousins."  Confused the hell out of my Uncle Marty, who was my mother's brother.  Hey.  Family is what you make it, by birth, marriage, adoption or even none of the above, like our nephew Eric.

Pay no attention to the redhead on the far right.

My cousin Sheryl, holding her newborn daughter Stephanie, along with her son Peter.

Family is so cool. So it made for a nice afternoon.  Later on, I couldn't eat and the Cleveland Cavaliers lost Game 5 of the NBA Finals, but I had a nice afternoon.  That's what I'm taking from the day.

Stephanie and Cory

The post title is from what I can only describe as an "eye worm".  One Spanish language dialog that I memorized in 1964, and can't get out of my head.  My friend and paralegal Brenda, who has been assisting me in my study of the Spanish language for a number of years, will still crack up laughing if I respond to her questions with a sentence from this damn dialog.  Somewhere out there are blog readers who know me from Lawrence Junior High School and also studied Spanish with Señora Lydia de Stier, a Jewish lady from Argentina.  They probably have the same eye worm, or at least enough of a recollection to crack up along with Brenda.

Que tal, como estas?
Estoy bien, gracias y tu?
Bien, gracias.  La familia, esta bien?
Si, señor, bastante bien.
Como estan Pablo y Luisa?
Pablp esta bien, pero Luisa tiene catarro.
Que lastima, lo siento.  Ojala que se mejore pronto!
Muchas gracias. Bueno, tengo que irme.
Entonces hasta luego.
Adios, recuerdos a todos.

Muchas gracias, Señora de Stier.  Some days I can't remember my telephone number, but I never forget this dialog.  El burro sabe mas que yo.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

The Pioneer Pantry - I Can Do The Can-Can Too

Robert and I were watching Food Network this morning, more specifically The Pioneer Woman, one of my favorites.  I am crazy about Ree Drummond, and her recipes.  She's sort of a midwestern Barefoot Contessa, and that's a good thing.  This episode was Perfecting the Pantry, in which she created several dishes, restricting herself primarily to the cans in her pantry.  If you stop by here on a regular basis, you know how I love what I call pantry buster recipes. What caught my attention was her 7-Can Soup.  Maybe another time.  

Now Ree cooks for four children and a cowboy husband.  Those kids work the ranch alongside their dad, and everyone has a healthy appetite.  So imagine my surprise when, viewing the inside of Ree's pantry, I could see that it is organized very similar to mine, including the amounts of food.  I apparently stock enough food to cook for a family of six with healthy appetites.  I cook enough for a block party, but my eating audience is technically 1.75 people.  Yes, I know we are a family of three.


That's why my freezer - my second freezer - looks like this.  Each of those aluminum tins is filled with extras from my cooking sprees.  The good news is that if Ree and her hard-working offspring and her hunky husband ever vacation in Disneyworld, I can invite them all to dinner and there will be plenty of food.


Today, June 13th, is World Wide Knit in Public Day, and as I mentioned in the previous blog post, I have not been doing any knitting for quite a while, and that makes me feel very sad.  As if I wasn't sad enough.  Now I have a Michael's, JoAnn's, and even a Hobby Lobby practically within walking distance of my home (please forgive my mild bent for exaggeration), and I haven't gone to any one of them to pet the yarns for such a long time.  I surely don't check up on Yarn Harlot with the same frequency as in the past, and that's my loss because the Harlot (Stephanie Pearl-McPhee) is a joy to read. She is inspirational.  She is a knitting genius.  I am a knitting ne'er-do-well.  Must - do - some - knitting.

So, I continue to be a good little soldier with my new medication.  I'm still feeling sad, I get headaches, and I feel a little increase in appetite.  I knew that weight gain is one of the main side effects, so I was sort of prepared for it.  Although it is a weird feeling as I haven't really felt hunger since June 2, 2003, and I'm not sure I remember it (not kidding).  It could be digestive upset.

I am getting just a little concerned that three of my doctors are conspiring to prescribe medications that have weight gain as a side effect.  Ha ha ... can we add paranoia to that list of symptoms?  Look docs, I wouldn't mind gaining back a little, but lack of appetite is not how I lost this weight.  In case you have forgotten, especially you, Doctor Gastroenterologist, my stomach is the size of a postage stamp, and most of my small intestine has been bypassed.  The Laws of Physics (I know there's a pun in there, but there was no way to get around it) cannot be flouted with impunity.  Well, if we accept that the space remaining in my postage stamp stomach pouch and the food that I eat are composed of fermions, they cannot occupy the same quantum state simultaneously.  Oh hell. Google Wolfgang Pauli.  I can't explain what I just wrote.  I don't remember what grade I got in physics, although I could ask my 12th grade physics teacher, who would no doubt remember it because that man has a mind like a steel trap.  I just remember that I was no science genius, although I started college as a biology major.  It took me three years to realize this was hopeless, so I switched majors just in time to save myself having to even attempt college physics.

The point is that my stomach is too damn small to take on the amount of food intake that full-fledged hunger would generate.  So, we shall see how it all plays out - will I snack and nibble my way back up to a size 28?  I think not. When I gained the weight while on Lyrica, I ate a whole lot of milk chocolate.  I can't do that anymore.  I also can't eat ice cream or cheesecake or tapioca pudding due to a late-blooming dairy sensitivity.  I can't drink alcohol, save an occasional half-glass of wine or half of a cocktail.  I can't drink frappacinos or milkshakes or smoothies.  I can no longer chew certain foods as thoroughly as is needed, so I avoid them. Certain foods don't taste right to me anymore, and this is what happened right after surgery, leading me to agree with my PCP that the gastric bypass somehow kicked in again. And while the endoscopy did not show anything alarming, there is some irritation at a critical juncture, and food is going to get stuck.  Medication takes up too much room, leaving little for food.

Yeah, sometime it sucks being me. Like today, blow-drying my hair: it hurts to stand, it hurts to keep my arms up, for any length of time.  It hurts to stand and put on make-up. Crap.

The good part of the day was dinner out with friends.  We went to Bonefish, which is one of my favorite restaurants, and I ordered mussels. These were delicious, and of course I had leftovers. I love mussels, better than any other bivalve, especially when the recipe involves garlic and white wine, which this one did, along with some kind of onion (possibly shallots), fresh herbs and fresh tomatoes.  I'm in a seafood sort of mood now, and I'm playing with the idea of crawfish étouffée and dirty rice.

Good things from the garden: I perused my garden today, as it was the first day in a while that there was no rain.  Some of the plants are coming back from the rain damage.  The mint plant leaves are almost completely denuded.  But the peppers, eggplants, and tomatoes are flourishing.  Nice. I took pictures with my iPhone, but I'm having trouble transferring them to the iPad. I did some research, and can confirm that the broccoli and carrot seeds are sprouting in good numbers, but they are sort of clumped together in bunches, depending on where they floated to.  I see maybe two onions sprouting, darn it.  These photos are from several days back, after the second day of rain storms.

Lost a zucchini blossom

That eggplant is hanging on for dear life

The exposed roots from the eggplant

Saturday, June 13, 2015

Where Can I Purchase a Literary License?


I have a bad habit.  (Just one? Oh girl!)  I am guilty of Excessive Alliteration. (There are also those Chronic Capitalization and Pretentious Paragraphing things, but that's another blog post and possibly intervention-worthy).


While littering is against the law; alliteration is not.  It is simply a literary device of which I am overly fond.  I have a literary license, and I like to use it.  Use of oxymorons is another literary device.  This one is pretty well-known, especially the best known example, "military intelligence."  Good grief.  Oops, that's more alliteration.  As a matter of fact, that's an alliterative oxymoron.  Like happy horsesh*t.  Okay, I've got to stop.  Bad habit.  I don't bite my nails anymore, but that's because I have them burried under acrylic.  I can't bury misuse of literary devices under acrylic. The whole thing is amazingly awful.

Third day on new medication, and I'm feeling sad.  Sadder than I felt yesterday, so it feels like this is another step backward.  Crap, I feel like crap. Which hasn't stopped me from laughing at some of the news.  Like Lebron James flashing his man-bits on national TV. (I'm blaming it on the head wound he got during the game.  They had to glue his head together. Then the Cavaliers lose and he flashes America.) You can't make this stuff up. Then, it turns out the head of the Spokane chapter of the NAACP has been passing - as black.  The media and social network reactions are stranger than the original story.

And the final funny news today was the House Democrats slapping the President upside the head with a wet fish.  Whack!  Which caused one of the commentators at Fox to officially declare the President a lame duck. The CNN headline reads Lame Duck: Democrats Clip President's Wings. Ouch. "The King is dead, long live the ... Queen." Hillary's campaign officially kicks off today. Truly, the last 15 years have been a disaster, Presidentially speaking.  It will be good to have a Clinton in the White House (I can see my husband and all my conservative friends rolling their eyes at me).

The end of the lasagna roll project was too dramatic to simply jump into another culinary undertaking.  Also, there's still lots of food all ready in the fridge, and we are going out to dinner tonight with our friends.

Today is also World Wide Knit in Public Day.  Knitters of the World, unite and flash your needles!  I haven't sat down to knit in a long time due to my inability to sit still and concentrate.  But I am with the knitters in spirit, if not in stitches. (Always alliteration.  Can't stop. This is where I came in. Have a delightful day.)

Friday, June 12, 2015

And now, the stunning conclusion of "The Lasagna Chronicles" Trilogy, a Culinary Comedy in Three Parts

So I don't hate lasagna anymore.  Oh my God, where have lasagna rolls been all my life?


But before I finally finish (cue the "Theme from Rocky" here) this magnificent Italian creation, permit me to grouse a bit.


I have been on my new medication for two days, and I have an unexpected side effect - headaches.  I haven't been having headache problems since I got new glasses after my eyesight took a sudden nosedive, so this is pretty damn annoying.  If I want a headache, I can go to court. Also I lost more weight, which may have nothing to do with the medication, which is supposed to actually cause weight gain.  So I am now six pounds less than I was when my doctor noted that I "hadn't lost any more weight in five months", and "if you stay at this weight, you'll be fine."  Sorry, Doc.


You've heard of Three Dog Night?  I got them beat -


Meet the Morning Menagerie.  I made the mistake of getting out of bed.  I guess they figured I was done using it.  Good incentive not to crawl back into bed to oversleep.  That and the fleas.  Damn fleas.  But, I got up, stayed up, walked downstairs, burned some toast for breakfast, and finished the lasagna rolls.  All I had to do was prepare the béchamel and put all the elements together in the baking dishes.  The noodles were already rolled around the filling, the meat sauce was done, the cheese was grated for the topping.  Baked, melting cheeses, oooh ...


I'm eating cabbage soup for  dinner.  I did not make it, I got it in Toojays. Mine is better (okay, it's my grandmother's recipe), but this ain't bad, not bad at all. Which is good, because this is the third night I'm eating it. I bought a take-out "bowl", and it's taking me three days, and I can't finish this.


I could not even consider to eat one of the lasagna rolls, as much as I would like to, so I tasted around the edges.  I SWOONED.  You will SWOON.


By now, you should have ready the meat sauce (Mom's Spaghetti Sauce I), the cheese filling, the additional filling and the cooked lasagna noodles. First, you want to make the rolls, so place 1/4 cup cheese filling on each noodle; spread evenly across the noodle, leaving the last 1 1/2 inch empty. Next, add the miniature  pepperoni slices and the the cooked mushroom, and then roll up carefully so as not to squash the filling or press it out of the noodles. Place the rolls on a lightly oiled surface. If you put these in a lightly oiled baking dish, you can refrigerate the rolls overnight.


About an hour and a half before serving, prepare the béchamel sauce. This is what really sets this particular dish apart from other lasagna rolls. The contrast between the béchamel on the bottom, and the best spaghetti meat sauce in the world - marvelous.  The way the béchamel enhances the cheese filling and topping - incredible.  The desire to lick the plate after you finish eating the lasagna - inevitable.  I saw a béchamel sauce used with lasagna in Bologna, Italy, and then when I was researching recipes for lasagna rolls online, I came across one version from Giada de Laurentiis which called for the lasagna rolls to be placed on top of a nice layer of white sauce.  Her version uses a lot less cheese in the filling - less than half of mine - and a jarred sauce.

Béchamel Sauce:
4 tablespoons butter
4 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground white pepper
a pinch of cayenne pepper
a pinch of nutmeg
2 1/2 cups half-and-half (plus a little extra, if needed)

Topping:
Additional shredded mozzarella or Italian 5-Cheese Blend
Additional grated Parmigiano Reggiano


In a medium saucepan over medium low heat, melt the butter and add the flour.  Whisk together continuously to make a roux (about 3 minutes or until the flour loses its "raw" smell).  Whisk in the salt, white pepper, cayenne, and nutmeg.  Now, whisk in the half-and-half in a continuous stream. Once it is fully incorporated, raise the heat to medium high and bring the sauce to a steady simmer, whisking continuously.  As the sauce heats, it will thicken.  Once done, take off the heat.  Put a cup of the bechamel in the bottom of two lightly oiled aluminum baking dishes.  Put 6 of the rolls in each dish, making sure they do not touch.  Spoon the remaining white sauce over each roll.  If the sauce has thickened, whisk in a little bit more half-and-half.  Spoon the meat sauce over each roll, and finally sprinkle the lasagna with additional mozzarella and/or parmesan.


Cover with aluminum foil and bake at 425 degrees for 30 minutes.  Lower the heat to 350 degrees, remove the aluminum foil, add more cheese on top, and put back in the oven until the cheese is melted and the lasagna rolls are heated all the way through.



Apparently he read yesterday's blog post:  Why Does Stephen Curry Have A Hebrew Tattoo?

I was watching the game last night, and Stephen Curry is not the tattooed man, but Golden State did win Game 4, so the Finals are now two wins for each team.  We are cheering on the Eastern Conference Cavaliers, but have a new respect for Golden State and Stephen Curry.  If they do win, well, it's been a good series and both teams have been awesome.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Brundlefly Broccoli and Maleficent Mushrooms - Just One of Those Crazy Things

NERD ALERT - I got goofy while writing this, and it is full of geeky references and puns.  I'm not going to point them all out.  Spoilers.


Before yesterday's storm, I noticed two gorgeous mushrooms which had popped up through the mulch around one of the front hibiscus. Very attractive, and completely poisonous.  I wouldn't even touch them with my bare hands.

How do I know they are poisonous?  The shape, a parasol.  Pernicious parasols, bitter bumbershoots, sinister sunshades.

Soil and green

Going to try something different in my garden.  I've already decided that next year the herbs will be planted in over-the-rail window boxes, like I've done with the strawberry plants.  Of course, after the rainstorm we endured late Tuesday afternoon, there may be no garden left to worry about this year.  Why do I have a terrible feeling that all of the seeds I planted the other day have floated away?  Could it have anything to do with the fact that it rained just as much today?

So nice and even and dry.  Especially dry.

Oy, so I went out and checked the damage ... and damaged it is.  The rain must have come in almost horizontally and washed all the soil from the front to the back.  This exposed the roots of all the established plants in the front row.  Not too bad, and when (if) the soil dries out, I can rake it forward and cover the roots.  The leaves, though - the ones that haven't been chewed on by marauding insects on a feeding frenzy have been shredded by wind whipping and/or buried in a mudslide.  I shouldn't complain. really - a little sunshine, and everything will be - well, as right as rain. (Sorry, sorry, I couldn't stop myself.  I got caught in the matrix and you know, girls just want to make puns.)

But the seeded patches - oh boy, I was wrong - those seeds didn't wash away - they washed together.  They comingled.  They did the hokey-pokey and they turned themselves around. Think of the carrot seeds as Dan Ackroyd and the onion seeds as Eddie Murphy in "Trading Places", or as strangers in a strange land.  It's as if the carrots have taken adverse possession of the onions' property.  Vegetarian squatters. I also don't know what to expect from the broccoli seeds I planted to the back of the blueberry bushes.  With dry air and sun, should I expect blue humanoid plants to sprout or something worse? This is like very bad science fiction - Jeff Goldblum goes into the transporter device and Brundlefly comes out.

Nobody told me that growing food could be so much fun.  Or so mysterious.  I promise to take pictures.


Beautiful flat leaf parsley rescued, I mean harvested, from my garden for use in the lasagna cheese filling.  I had to soak them in a sinkful of water to dislodge all the dirt, like you would do with leeks.


From the "Baby Gotta Bitch" Department:  The implications of my new prescriptions are very hard to accept.  Gotta work on that, over time, with professional guidance.  Yesterday the psychiatrist, today the therapist.  I've been spending too much time wondering why I'm spending so much time in their offices.  If you worry too much about your mental and emotional health, you could drive yourself crazy.  Ask me how I know.

Anakin and Chelsea - they share their food and their sleeping space

I woke up with a modicum of energy; I think I spent it wisely.  My moods may be occasionally disordered, but it was cheerful this morning when I woke up to the sight of cat and dog, living together, not the slightest hint of mass hysteria.  I made quite a bit of progress on the lasagna rolls.  I drove to Orlando for my appointment.  I went to Toojay's and picked up tongue, pastrami, chopped liver ... you know, the important things.

At this point, I could finish preparing the lasagna rolls, take some more pictures and wrap it up, but something is telling me that would be pushing it, whatever "it" is.  If you were planning on making this recipe, wait until tomorrow when I give the final instructions, or prepare the meat sauce and/or the cheese filling, and refrigerate until tomorrow.

Lasagna Cheese Filling:
2 pounds whole milk ricotta cheese
1-8 oz. pouch shredded mozzarella
1 cup freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese
2 tablespoons grated Pecorino Romano cheese
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon coarse black pepper    
   
                                                                                                 
2 extra large eggs
2-3 tablespoons chopped fresh flat leaf parsley
pinch of cayenne pepper

Combine all ingredients, cover and refrigerate until ready to form the rolls.

The Noodles:
12-14 ruffle-edged uncooked lasagna noodles

In a very large pot of boiling water, to which a tablespoon of kosher salt and a teaspoon of olive oil has been added, cook the lasagna noodles, for 8 minutes once the water comes back to a boil.  I do this in batches of 6 to 7 noodles, so they do not stick to each other.  Rinse under cool water and then lay each noodle on a flat surface.  I cover part of the counter with - you guessed it - aluminum foil, which I have brushed with a small amount of olive oil.


Additional Filling:
1 package miniature pepperoni slices
1-8 oz. box button mushrooms (from the store, not your lawn), quartered and slowly cooked in a small amount of garlic extra virgin olive oil.  Season the mushrooms with a lot of black pepper.  I prepared these several days ago and stored them in the fridge.

One perfect lasagna roll.  All shall be revealed in the fullness of time.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

A Quick Trip to Tatooine

I have to rethink tattoos. I really, truly don't like them, but I don't dislike them as much as I used to. That is an opinion which arises from the times and generation in which I was raised. I was born just seven years after the end of World War II.  My grandparents told me not to stare at anyone who had numbers tattooed on their arm, and why.  I think you get it.

Of course I am hopelessly behind the times. Ink is becoming very acceptable even among professionals, who for the most part are discreet as to placement and display.  However, I absolutely loathe seeing a chef with tattoos all over his arms and hands.  It looks, to me anyway, like his hands are always dirty.  Unfortunately I've seen quite a few overly-inked chefs on Food Network.

Yes you, Aaron Sanchez
                                                   
I also dislike excessive ink on basketball players, but I'm not going to argue the point with Lebron James or Chris Andersen, AKA Birdman. They're very tall, I'm sort of small, whatever, dudes, that's never going to be my battle.  The Birdman is doing some sort of PETA promotion that proclaims "Ink, Not Mink."  I guess that makes tattooing a worthy cause.  It doesn't help me figure out what to do with my mother's mink coat.  I'm still not getting a tattoo, and I'm definitely not wearing the damn coat.


A couple of years ago, I actually considered getting a tattoo on my left wrist.  I envisioned it being very thin and delicate, somehow incorporating the names or initials of my husband and son in our individual birthstone colors. I got over that, and about that time, I started making and wearing my own Pandora bracelet knock-offs.  Chicken, I am.  Afraid of pain, I be.

I admit to being traumatized by a tramp stamp that I saw while waiting for my lunch at a fast food restaurant some months back.   With my appetite the way it is, this tattoo was the absolute last thing I needed to see.  Not only did I lose what little appetite I did have, I haven't gone back to Zaxby's since then.

I still have nightmares

Having said all that, I am humbled and impressed by those women who have had to have mastectomies but somehow find the strength to have beautiful tattoos over that part of their chest that has been ravaged by surgery, radiation, and chemo.  Here is the link to the article - warning: while the artwork is beautiful, some people may find the pictures disturbing or even inappropriate (women's bare chests, you know. I could tell you to grow up, but that would be pointless).

I will post this picture - it went viral a while ago, and for all you prudes, there is nothing to see but beautifully crafted ink.  This woman had a double mastectomy, and I am learning that not everyone wants breast reconstruction.  This kind of ink would not have been my choice if my results had come back differently, but I can see the physical and emotional beauty.


Today is already a lousy day.  I have to shlep to SODO to chat with my psychiatrist, to tell her that after 6 weeks, the new medication is not working.  This is not likely to be a happy conversation.  And then there are the lasagna roulades.  Two days ago, I shopped for the ingredients. Yesterday, I prepared the meat sauce.  I would like to be able to finish the dish today, but as I've been feeling lately, I doubt I have the energy to make the cheese filling, much less boil the noodles.  But hope springs eternal.  At this rate the lasagna will be done in time for Christmas.  And I don't celebrate Christmas.

The last few days have been about pain and fatigue.  I am eternally grateful that Robert was available yesterday to drive me to the Dr. Phillips area so I could pick up a prescription.  Today, however, I am on my own. The head is not working too well, but I'm not going to press the issue.

"Good psychiatry only happens when the patient gets to the point of deciding to take responsibility for their own choices."  Hmm.  That's what it says on the framed and matted sign above the receptionist's window in my doctor's office.  I always look at it, and it always means something different to me.  Today it means I have to be truthful, about important stuff.  That may explain the panic attack that keeps spiking.

National Examiner headline: "Who's Gay. Who's Not?" (Who Cares???)  I went to a Publix in SODO, I found the miniature pepperoni slices and shredded mozzarella that I needed, and bought myself a good-looking candy bar.  Even in the express lane, I had time to scan the headlines. Mirabile visu, there was NOTHING about Caitlyn Jenner, and "the Duggars are going to the penitentiary." I wonder if the local prosecutor is aware of this.

At the end of a long day, I have two new prescriptions, a whole lot of new concerns about side effects, and no lasagna rolls.  I did however grate a lot of fresh parm and made decisions regarding things like bechamel sauce and basil leaves.  I have another medical-type appointment tomorrow, and I only hope I can stand long enough to finish the lasagna rolls.  I also hope today's rainstorm did not wash out my herb garden, yet again.

Fear is still the mind-killer.  Crap.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

From Brooklyn, With Love - Mom's Spaghetti Sauce I

The Cleveland Cavaliers won the second game of the NBA Finals last night in overtime.  Each team has won one game.  Whoo Hoo, way to go Lebron!

Indiana Jones of Dog Dynasty 

My grandmother made the best Italian meat sauce in Brooklyn - heck, not just Brooklyn, but in the whole world, including Italy. I mean no disrespect to your own nonna or bubbe, but that's just the way it is.  How good was my grandma's sauce?  So good, I liked to eat it without the spaghetti. So good that a wooden spoon would stand up straight in the pot.  It was thick, rich, with a flavor that would bring tears of my joy to my eyes.

More Duck Dynasty

She claimed - and for once, I had no reason to doubt her veracity - that she had been given this recipe by an Italian neighbor lady, before I was born, and while she and Pop were living on Avenue D in Brooklyn.  This was a Big Deal, you understand - Italian mamas and nonnas did NOT give out their precious recipes to anyone, and certainly not to the Jewish lady next door.  But, my grandma could be charming when she wasn't being crazy, and we have all benefitted from her infrequent bouts of sanity.

Romeo, part of the Dog Dynasty

Before I go any further - today's ear worm is courtesy of Bond, James Bond.  I'm never sure why these things pop up, but this one has been chasing me around the kitchen all morning.

This is the end
Hold your breath and count to ten
Feel the earth move and then
Hear my heart burst again
For this is the end
I've drowned and dreamt this moment
So overdue I owe them
Swept away, I'm stolen
Let the sky fall
When it crumbles
We will stand tall
Face it all together
In case you were wondering, my favorite Bond has been and always will be Sean Connery.  I think you can tell a lot about a person by learning who is their favorite Bond ... or their favorite Doctor.  The Ninth.  I know, I'm a head case.

My plans for the meat sauce, once I get past eating the first bowl with a soup spoon, no pasta - is to makes lasagna roulades.  You know, lasagna noodles rolled around a filling which should include ricotta cheese.  My grandmother never made lasagna, rolled or otherwise.  Meat sauce went on spaghetti while white clam sauce went on linguine.  That's the way the world worked in the fifties and sixties.  Those were simpler times, at least regarding food.  Me, I'm a complicated cook.  Twenty-eight different versions of meatloaf and not one of them is as good as my grandmother's.

Woody, the Big Dog of the Dog Dynasty

Regarding other things, the fifties and sixties were anything but simple. We had three assassinations, including a President, Brown v. Board of Education, passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, the escalation of the Vietnam War, the Watts Riots, Richard Nixon, and the Moon landing. Apparently the Moon really is a harsh mistress because we haven't been back since 1972.

Chelsea Rose, reigning Princess of Dog Dynasty

Mom's Spaghetti Sauce I

2-3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, with roasted garlic if you got it
2 large chopped onions
2 large cloves fresh garlic, sliced thin
2 1/2 pounds ground beef (I use Publix Market Beef)
2 large cans tomato puree
2 large (28 oz.) cans Italian plum tomatoes (San Marzano if you can get them)
2 large (12 oz.) cans Contadina tomato paste
water
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon salt
2 teaspoons coarse black pepper
2 teaspoons granulated garlic
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 tablespoon dried sweet basil
1 tablespoon fresh oregano, chopped
1 tablespoon fresh basil, chopped


In a large deep pot, add the onion to the oil.  Season the onion lightly with salt, pepper, and granulated garlic (this is in addition to the amounts listed with the ingredients).  Cook the onion for about five minutes till tender, then add the garlic and cook two or three minutes more.  Now add the beef, and break it up with the wooden spoon until it is fully browned (no remaining pink).


Add all of the remaining ingredients, except for the fresh oregano and fresh basil.


Stirring frequently, bring the sauce to a boil over medium heat (take your time with this, then cover the pot, turn the heat to low to maintain a simmer, and cook for 1 1/2 hours.  Stir every half hour, and always replace the cover.


If the sauce is becoming too thick, thin it with a small amount of water that has been added to the cans of tomato products and swished around.


During the last 15 minutes of cooking, add the fresh herbs, and do any reseasoning.  If you don't have fresh herbs, use a teaspoon each of the dried stuff, adding for the last half hour of cooking.        

From my garden, three types of oregano, and sweet basil

This makes a lot, it goes good with any kind of pasta dish, stuffed or not, and it freezes well.