Two Kitchen Patchwork Projects

I keep my kitchen plastic bags in a fabric cylinder with elastic ends.  What is this thing called?  No idea.  But it sure is useful!  

No matter how much I try, plastic bags continue to come into this house.  I don't buy ziploc bags or plastic wrap, but I wash and reuse the bags as much as possible.  The non-ziploc ones live in this fabric bag.  My old one was plain red gingham and getting grimy and threadbare.  The new one is much prettier and made only using scraps from my piece bag.

Then I recovered the kitchen stools.  The red covers that I jury-rigged were getting worn and grimy beyond washing.  I did use them as patterns for new ones, which are that vintage printed patchwork from the 70s that I love (and that, to be frank, Mr. Thrift hates; "Holly Hobbie stuff" he calls it, which is not a compliment). 

This time, I backed the fabric with plain canvas and added ties on 4 sides to help them stay on.  I think I should have used a darker ribbon, or a self-fabric tie, but there will be next time. And that may be sooner rather than later if Mr. Thrift prevails!

The Last Straw

I was at a school meeting where a meal was served on styrofoam plates with bottled water and plasticware.  One of the dads casually whipped a reusable fork/knife/spoon set out of his work bag and avoided the plasticware.  I was thrilled. All the plates, plasticware, and water bottles were thrown away as trash, of course (which drives me crazy - our city has an excellent, comprehensive recycling program and has made recycling mandatory!! but enforcement and education lag behind, of course).

However, this dad inspired me to think about how I could replace the plastic trash with reusables when I go out. I have napkin rolls that already make potlucks and picnics easy - I'm going to start carrying them more places.  I've seen Zoe (on Instagram) take her own containers along to restaurants for any food leftovers.  And I have stopped using plastic straws (more education at this website). 

I made this little roll-up of metal straws to keep in my purse.  I bought the set of straws at a local store, and the handy cleaning brush came with them.  I got this set up before a big vacation to Maine (another post for another day!), but I am planning to be straw-free at home, too. 

The other day, Genevieve wanted to make a little project with plastic straws, and I had none whatsoever in the house.  But when I went for a little jog around our neighborhood, I found no less than 4 straws among the rest of the litter and brought them home to sterilize for her to use.

The thought of all those dumb plastic straws out there as litter is maddening. I'm going to try to do my part, and I might even turn into one of those people who decline the straw and then furthermore try to educate the person offering the straw. Might.

Wonderful Lettuce as a Wonderful Side Dish

I have eaten lettuce as a side dish for lunch for 6 days straight now since I read about this in the newspaper last week.  I regretfully cannot quote the writer or article, because most of the article was about the French vinaigrette she fell in love with and took years to re-create at home.  But she did mention that she puts excellent olive oil, flake salt, and fresh ground pepper on butter lettuce and it's so good it doesn't need vinegar.  

This is a game changer!  No tedious salad prep! No emulsifying a vinaigrette! I adore green salads, but I consider them kind of a production.  I wash and dry the lettuce, chop and shred some veggies, sometimes toast some nuts, make a dressing or vinaigrette if there's not one sitting in the fridge, and hope for leftovers so I can have some for lunch the next day.  

But!  If you simply pull some lettuce leaves into a bowl, drizzle with your best olive oil, sprinkle with some flake salt and fresh pepper, stir, and oh-my-goodness-EAT IT, it is wonderful and fast and I can have it whenever I want!

I am extremely fortunate to have local farmers who grow gorgeous, organic lettuce year-round in their greenhouses or hydroponically; their lettuce is clean enough to skip the washing and drying steps, hallelujah. 

My favorite serving dish, from Grandma Weaver.

When I steam broccoli or something like that, I sprinkle it with salt and pepper and give it a slick of butter or olive oil when it's done.  So that's what's going on with the lettuce here - that's why I call it "side dish lettuce" instead of a salad.  

You could add vinegar or lemon juice if that's what you do with your steamed broccoli (and then you could go on to add other veggies. . . and you've got salad). I am just thrilled for the simplicity that allows me to assemble side dish lettuce in the 33 seconds it takes to microwave the toddler some lunch. 

You may also be interested to see this study by the Center for Disease Control that ranks vegetables and fruits according to their nutrient density; leaf lettuce outranks kale, collards, cabbage and others as a nutrient-dense powerhouse vegetable.  Hooray for lettuce!

My National Online Thrift Store

The plastic silverware holder that came with my dish drainer was too flimsy for our loads of dishes.  I was eyeing a stainless steel one on eBay but was hesitating because the seller used a stock photo and wasn't answering my query if he himself had the basket and was going to personally ship it.  

I had gotten burned by eBay sellers using Amazon fulfillment services, and I avoid supporting Amazon if I can help it.  I don't trust big corporations and their love of big profits and lack of engagement with the communities that host their big box stores and warehouses.  I prefer to support individual sellers and locally-owned stores.  Big corporations are also automating as many jobs as possible in the name of profit, which is costing people jobs.  I know it's a complicated issue because our economy is not sustainable as it is, but I also believe that people want meaningful work for fair pay.  So I try to avoid the big corporations and look for the small-time sellers on eBay (my national online thrift store!) or little companies with online stores. 

As I considered how badly I wanted the stainless steel silverware basket, I came across a red metal one in my favorite thrift store.  For $2, it was by far the cheapest option, and I was also supporting a local store that gives its profits to MCC.  I was very pleased.

I'd welcome your thoughts on Amazon, eBay, and online shopping in general. 

Summer Fried Rice

Previous to Smitten Kitchen's post, I thought of fried rice as just the Asian kind with Asian flavors like soy sauce, ginger, snow peas, the like.  But Deb's version just about matched the food that needed to be used up at my house, so I plunged in.

This was the kids' supper when my husband and I were leaving them with a babysitter to go out for dinner. I snitched a few bites before we left, and boy, I was so glad there were leftovers.  I had asked Genevieve if she wanted to make mac and cheese, or if I should do something; this fried rice was so easy, I didn't mind when she demurred.

 Here's how I made it.

Summer Fried Rice

Sauteed an onion in the wok in oil. Salt and pepper.

Added a large zucchini, chopped. Salt and pepper (Deb insists that seasoning each addition is crucial for flavor).

When that was hot but not soft (a few minutes), I added about 2 cups leftover rice, plus maybe a half-cup of corn.  A large tomato, chopped, and several sprigs of fresh thyme, chopped.  More salt and pepper.
When everything was hot, I set it aside and fried eggs for each person to go on top (this recipe serves 4-ish). Then there was about 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan, some mixed into the fried rice, and some sprinkled on top of the egg.

Also, I like to set out ingredients for supper in the morning.  It's a visual comfort to see that supper is already in progress, plus it reserves those ingredients from the hungry hordes in my house and frees up fridge space. It may look like a tiny step to set a few things out on the counter, but it represents a much bigger step:  deciding what's for supper.

Here we have rice and corn in the leftover container, onion in the jar, and eggs, tomatoes, and zucchini waiting for the fried rice.  Supper decision is made, hallelujah!

Baby Meals

These are rice + toppings meals that I carried out recently to families with new babies (we have a raft of new babies at church - fun!).  I was pleased with the efficient way of carrying the meal and how pretty it looked.

This is Korean beef, rice, tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, with a sprinkling of my very own cilantro over the veggies.  There was eclair dessert to go along, too.

This is rice and teriyaki pork, with toasted coconut sprinkled over it, beside purple cabbage slaw with lime and cilantro, plus fresh pineapple.  There were mocha drops to go along, too.

Steeping Tea the Pretty Way

There are these lacy cloth things that I've seen in old-fashioned kitchen that are used as lids.  Sometimes they even have beads dangling at their edges to weight them down.  So I rooted through my bag of doilies that I keep for sewing projects and found a suitable "lid."

I often put tea that is steeping for iced tea outside my kitchen window to keep every little bit of heat out of the house that I can, but I don't want anything or any critter to drop into my tea.  I also don't want a metal lid to seal to the jar during steeping. So now I have a pretty, breathable lid for my jar.  Does anyone know more about this method - is there a name for this fabric cover?

Raspberry Buttercream: A Cautionary Tale

Pride goeth before a fall.  Yes.

My sister proposed a joint birthday party for herself and Phoebe and I jumped at the chance to make whatever birthday dessert she desired.  She ultimately wanted a layer cake and let me choose, as long as it involved chocolate.  I returned with high hopes to Vintage Cakes by Julie Richardson; I had made a wonderful Italian Cream Cake from her book, and I wanted to make another fancy cake.

I chose The Pink Cake, a luscious (read: lots of fat and special ingredients) chocolate cake with a "raspberry buttercream."  To me, a buttercream icing is the kind where you beat butter with powdered sugar and a little milk and vanilla and done.

However, there is an alternate universe of Buttercream-That-Will-Make-You-Cry where buttercream involves a pound of butter, six egg whites and in this case, a whole bag of frozen raspberries pushed laboriously through a strainer to make them seedless.  And the technique:  people, the technique is bizarre and tedious and there is a tightrope to walk and if you fall off, the buttercream will die (and you will cry).

Actually, after about 10 minutes of my mixer on high, my Buttercream-That-Will-Make-You-Cry did actually look like a dreamy cloud, but then I dumped in the raspberry puree with the vanilla and salt as Julie Richardson airily said to do and the whole thing went to curdled hell.

 I tried tricks because at that point, I discovered via Google that I had been walking a tightrope and there were tricks for this icing.  I tried adding chocolate, an emulsifier.  I tried a period in the fridge.  I tried calling my best friend and wailing (she recommended hurling it on the compost pile). I tried beating it an additional 20 minutes. Yes, TWENTY. I tried microwaving parts of it and reintroducing it back to the flecked mess in the bowl.

Please note that at this point, I had not cried.  I was mad because I had put a lot of time and ingredients into the Buttercream-That-Will-Make-You-Cry and I wanted to taste that chocolate cake against the pink raspberry heaven.  Instead, I whipped up a peanut butter icing and put it between the triple layers, and then swathed the whole thing in cheater Italian meringue (7 minutes to make, start to finish).

During the car ride to the party, guess what those dumb old stupid cake layers did while I cradled them like a precious baby in their cake stand?  They slid sneakily and irrevocably apart.  So that's when I cried.

The cake was pretty good.  The birthday girls were pleased.  I was mostly mollified.  But I still have a bowl of red and white curds in the fridge that I'm not sure what to do with.

Had it uncurdled itself, my icing would have been a much darker pink than Julie Richardson's photo of The Pink Cake in her cookbook.  I followed her instructions for amounts to the letter, although she did not indicate how much raspberry puree was supposed to result from 4 cups of frozen berries.  I think my buttercream suffered from too much acid and water from the raspberry puree, and I wish she had included an exact amount to add so I could have ended up with pink Buttercream-That-Made-Me-Cry-From-Sheer-Deliciousness.  But I've passed on my experience to you and I'm happy to hear your buttercream tales (of woe or delight), too.

Mayo in No Time at All

I've been making mayo for years in the food processor, but when I blogged about it two summers ago, several of you suggested that I try stick blender mayonnaise.

I was struck pretty much dumb the first time I tried it.  It's so easy!  So fast!  You just put the ingredients in a jar, shove the stick blender down in, and pretty much before you can say "mayonnaise," it's done!

So that's how I make mayo now; it has never failed me in quality or speediness.  It's magical to watch it form in the jar!

Magic Mayo

Measure into a wide-mouth pint jar (I use the line on the jar):
1 cup neutral veg oil

Add:
1 egg
1 Tbsp. lemon juice
1 Tbsp. white wine vinegar
1 tsp. prepared mustard (dijon is called for, but I just use my homemade)
1/2 tsp. salt

Put immersion blender in jar, firmly on bottom.  Hold blender to bottom of jar while blending until you see creamy mayo rising up to 2/3 of the way.  Pull the blender up through the mixture to get the top layer of oil emulsified.  Give a few more blasts on the blender through the whole jar, but do not overbeat. Done!  Put the lid on and store in the fridge.

Bright Silver

We have an odd collection of little toddler forks and spoons for Phoebe.  I really can't recall where they all came from.  Some of them are stainless steel and some of them, the ones in this photo, are real sterling silver.  And look:  the tarnish wore off from everyday use, and they are bright and shiny!  No silver polish or rubbing needed, just use.

Perhaps if I ever get some ancestral silver, I will use it every day to enjoy its luster without the effort of polishing.  I love the life lesson here:  beauty and usefulness hand-in-hand.

Stretching Ground Beef

I've learned to stretch ground beef a bit with no complaints from my family.  I sub in cooked brown lentils for part of the ground beef when it's in a flavorful sauce - such as sloppy joe, spaghetti, or here in the picture, Korean beef.  Here I had doubled the recipe and just eyeballed the amount of cooked lentils to equal another pound of ground beef (I'm guessing 2 cups).  I added the cooked lentils when the beef was mostly cooked.

Bonus tip:  use a potato masher to chop and stir ground beef as it fries because it's much easier than trying to break it up with the side of a spoon.  I also mashed at the lentils a bit, which made them even less discernible in the dish.

However, I'm not trying to hide the beef-stretcher from my family.  They all know that the local organic beef I buy is expensive (but not when you consider our health and the environment!).

Collard Stem Pesto

I mentioned kale stem pesto when I wrote about Linda Ly's book. So I recently had collard greens and I decided to see if I could use their woody stems to make pesto.  I did whiz the stems first by themselves in the food processor, but then I added walnuts, Parmesan, garlic, salt, a handful of whatever herbs I found in my garden, and olive oil.  Delicious!  Not woody at all.

November has been very mild, hence the presence of herbs yet in my garden.  I'm going to experiment with the pesto again and see if the lack of fresh herbs still makes an agreeable pesto.

Peeling Tomatoes and Steeping Tea

I typically look forward to the new season, but this solstice caught me still loving my summer and eating summer food.  So, yes, I was peeling tomatoes this week in my kitchen.

Someone's gotta fill Ben's shoes in the kitchen when he's away at school.

Actually, what happened was that the farmer offered me a bushel of tomatoes instead of the half-bushel I had ordered.  When I waffled, he laconically mentioned that he'd just throw them away otherwise because they were truly seconds tomatoes and wouldn't last much longer.  That, my friends, is my favorite reason for preserving food:  so it is not wasted in the horribly common way that we Westerners take our food for granted.  So yes, I took the entire bushel.  I had to buy more jars, push other things off my to-do list, and stick some tomatoes in the freezer.

There's the tip:  freeze whole tomatoes and then when you defrost them, you can pull the peels off with your fingers in the same manner as if you had blanched them. I set aside 5 pounds to make smoked tomato chutney once I had dealt with the really-almost-rotten tomatoes. 

And then I looked over at the stove and realized I had another tip to share.  I occasionally buy bunches of mint at market to make iced mint tea.  I keep the mint tied in a bunch, upside down in the hot water.  When it's done steeping, I pull out the bunch, squeezing the liquid out.  

Jam-Making Saturday

Here I am, talking to my friend Danene as we eat rhubarb pie after making numerous batches of strawberry jam together this morning.  This was a gift, to have her in my kitchen, making the work fly and keeping the conversation interesting.  We only intended to process 10 quarts and that's what we ordered, but somehow, when my husband came home from the farm with the strawberries in his bike trailer, there were 13 quarts.  So now we have plenty of jam.

photo by Genevieve

My late lunch, a rice dish from our friend Marlisa, who adds a bit of bulgur wheat to cook with the jasmine rice for the added nutrition.  Isn't that clever?

The story of my dining room:  me, frantically shoveling calories in my mouth out of the serving dish, trying to read the newspaper, next to the 50 pound sack of sugar that was hauled up from the basement for jam making, next to the pretty bunch of peonies that Danene brought for me.  All of this with the baby in my arms and the impulse to grab the camera.

Ben and I were laughing at Phoebe's funny grunts and I was trying to catch the random spit-up (I did).  My, she has turned into a spitty baby!  Photo by Genevieve.

She has also hit the 4-6 week fussies.  Photo by Ben, who is still getting the hang of camera.

And then, peace and love.

It was a very good Saturday.  Was yours?

In Which I Make Cheese Jello

I have never liked Velveeta cheese and American cheese and all that processed cheese; it was too bland with an odd plastic taste.  I liked Cheez-Whiz as a kid because of that amusing squirt can.

So I was attracted to do-it-yourself Velveeta not because I desperately needed a whole-foods substitute in my kitchen, but because the cookbook I was editing needed it.  And I was game for  testing the recipe because it was odd.  I am drawn to odd recipes, I know this.

Turns out, I was just mixing shredded cheddar with milk and gelatin.  Cheese Jello!

The recipe was remarkably easy and accurate, but after I went ahead and tested a cookbook mac-and-cheese recipe with the DIY Velveeta, I had a fair amount left over (and the test recipe was a dud - my family and I like my slow cooker mac-and-cheese much better).

The flavor of the DIY Velveeta was not plastic-y at all, just a little less sharp than the original cheese.

  I can't even remember what all I used it in, trying to use it up. The very last thing was melting it with some salsa, and then adding some cilantro and green onions to make a kind of queso that we poured over baked potatoes.  It was tasty, but I don't think the gelatin aspect helped me in any way in my kitchen.

Helped the cookbook, sure, and now my big deadline is past and I have more time to catch up with freezer-filling and sewing before the baby comes.  I think.  It was just at this very time in my first pregnancy that Genevieve was born, catching us entirely off guard.