What WOULD Bekki Eat?
Well, I'll start with what I wouldn't eat. I wouldn't eat margarine. Or tofu. Or lowered-fat anything. Olestra is right out. Hydrolyzed, isolated, evaporated, enriched, or chocolate flavored "phood" won't pass these lips.
What will I eat? Real food. Made-at-home food. Food that my great-great-grandmother could have made, if she had the money and the time. And if she hadn't been so busy trick-riding in a most unladylike way.
What will I eat? Real food. Made-at-home food. Food that my great-great-grandmother could have made, if she had the money and the time. And if she hadn't been so busy trick-riding in a most unladylike way.
Showing posts with label Eat Your Veggies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eat Your Veggies. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Green Bean Thing
This was written October 6, 2008, but never posted. I was probably waiting to upload a picture? Who knows...
I love it when the main course is leftovers, so I have time to make a more-complicated side dish. Tonight's dinner was leftover boneless roasted leg of lamb, which was rather underdone to begin with, so I simmered it in leftover saucy summer vegetable Thing (I just throw stuff together, and if it grows together, it tastes good together, and this did, but it was sort of a semi-solid ratatouille almost-sauce.)
So what'd that leave me time to make? Green beans with mushrooms and onions. And garlic. And bacon fat.
Om nom nom!
Start out by putting a big pot of salty water on to boil. While it's heating up, snap the ends off your fresh green beans. How many? I don't know. How many do you have? How many do you want to eat? If the two answers aren't the same, either buy more beans, steal some from your neighbor's garden, or if you're really lucky, stick the extra blanched beans in the freezer for later.
Blanching is easy. In the case of beans, just put 'em in that pot of boiling, salted water for a few minutes. When they turn bright green, they're ready, usually only takes 3-4 minutes. Your beans may vary. While boiling, fill a large-ish bowl halfway with ice water.
Scoop the blanched beans out of the pot and directly into the bowl of ice. Stir 'em around a bit, then drain.
Now... heat a tablespoon or so of bacon fat in a skillet, add half a large red onion, sliced, and cook that over medium-low heat. That lets it get kind of caramelized and soft, but not burnt. Chop some crimini mushrooms (or white button) into quarters, and toss in with the soft onions. Cook, stirring occasionally, for a few minutes. Add a teaspoon of minced garlic from a jar, or a few cloves of fresh garlic, pressed. Stir around and then add the beans. Cook just long enough to heat the beans, as they're basically cooked already. Salt generously, to taste, and enjoy.
I love it when the main course is leftovers, so I have time to make a more-complicated side dish. Tonight's dinner was leftover boneless roasted leg of lamb, which was rather underdone to begin with, so I simmered it in leftover saucy summer vegetable Thing (I just throw stuff together, and if it grows together, it tastes good together, and this did, but it was sort of a semi-solid ratatouille almost-sauce.)
So what'd that leave me time to make? Green beans with mushrooms and onions. And garlic. And bacon fat.
Om nom nom!
Start out by putting a big pot of salty water on to boil. While it's heating up, snap the ends off your fresh green beans. How many? I don't know. How many do you have? How many do you want to eat? If the two answers aren't the same, either buy more beans, steal some from your neighbor's garden, or if you're really lucky, stick the extra blanched beans in the freezer for later.
Blanching is easy. In the case of beans, just put 'em in that pot of boiling, salted water for a few minutes. When they turn bright green, they're ready, usually only takes 3-4 minutes. Your beans may vary. While boiling, fill a large-ish bowl halfway with ice water.
Scoop the blanched beans out of the pot and directly into the bowl of ice. Stir 'em around a bit, then drain.
Now... heat a tablespoon or so of bacon fat in a skillet, add half a large red onion, sliced, and cook that over medium-low heat. That lets it get kind of caramelized and soft, but not burnt. Chop some crimini mushrooms (or white button) into quarters, and toss in with the soft onions. Cook, stirring occasionally, for a few minutes. Add a teaspoon of minced garlic from a jar, or a few cloves of fresh garlic, pressed. Stir around and then add the beans. Cook just long enough to heat the beans, as they're basically cooked already. Salt generously, to taste, and enjoy.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Fried Green Tomatoes
Not being born in the South, I had never had fried green tomatoes before. I saw the movie, but didn't really understand what the fuss was about. Unripe tomatoes? Blech. I'll pass.
But today's Greenling basket included 4 big green tomatoes. I had no idea what else to do with them. So, two of them got fried. They were one part of an absolutely over-the-top fabulous dinner, that was inspired by our need to eat up all our fresh veggies before we leave for a trip next week. Work, work, work, hee hee!
Our locavore feast included pork chops, grilled portabello mushrooms, braised greens with red onions, sweet potatoes, and the luscious fried green tomatoes. All from 'somewhere round here.'
Here's the recipe I used for the tomatoes:
Ingredients:
2 medium-sized green tomatoes sliced 1/4 inch thick
1/2 cup cornmeal
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
2 tablespoons GF baking mix
several grinds black pepper
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/4 cup lard (even the lard was local!)
1 egg, beaten
Sprinkle tomato slices with salt and drain on paper towels (on a wire rack) for at least half an hour, but not more than a full hour. Combine cornmeal, baking mix, and seasonings in a bowl or on a plate. Dip each tomato slice in the beaten egg, then in the cornmeal mixture. In a medium skillet, heat oil on medium high. Fry tomato slices about two minutes per side or until golden brown. Drain on a wire rack topped with fresh paper towels. Serve while hot.
They are such a delightful combination of sour, salty, crunchy, and molten tomatoey center. Quite possibly the perfect pregnancy food.Monday, July 21, 2008
I forgot to take a picture!
I can't believe I forgot.
Ok, I believe it. I just... I was at the mercy of a late dinner (that smelled REALLY good while cooking) and a second glass of wine (on an empty stomach)... and I flat forgot.
I don't even know what to call this, but it was plate-licking delicious. And I am not kidding. I licked it. I offered my plate to the Grill Geek, but he had already moved on to contentedly digesting.
Bekki's Whatchamacallit
2 large pork sausages, the spicy kind with removable casings. Since they can be removed... remove them. Ew, don't they look weird?
1/2 a large onion, sliced
Some fat... olive oil, bacon or duck fat, whatever
Soften the onions in the fat, then add the crumbled sausage. When the sausage is browned, add:
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 to 1 1/2 cups sprouted beans and lentils (I didn't measure)
About 2 cups chicken stock (once again, didn't measure... just make sure there's plenty of liquid)
Simmer about 45 minutes. I thought sprouted beans would cook quicker. They didn't seem to. Oh, the torture! But, they finally did cook, and I served the whatchamacallit over rice, with a side of sliced summer squash sauteed in butter.
Ok, I believe it. I just... I was at the mercy of a late dinner (that smelled REALLY good while cooking) and a second glass of wine (on an empty stomach)... and I flat forgot.
I don't even know what to call this, but it was plate-licking delicious. And I am not kidding. I licked it. I offered my plate to the Grill Geek, but he had already moved on to contentedly digesting.
Bekki's Whatchamacallit
2 large pork sausages, the spicy kind with removable casings. Since they can be removed... remove them. Ew, don't they look weird?
1/2 a large onion, sliced
Some fat... olive oil, bacon or duck fat, whatever
Soften the onions in the fat, then add the crumbled sausage. When the sausage is browned, add:
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 to 1 1/2 cups sprouted beans and lentils (I didn't measure)
About 2 cups chicken stock (once again, didn't measure... just make sure there's plenty of liquid)
Simmer about 45 minutes. I thought sprouted beans would cook quicker. They didn't seem to. Oh, the torture! But, they finally did cook, and I served the whatchamacallit over rice, with a side of sliced summer squash sauteed in butter.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Ratatouille
I got eggplant in my local box this week.
I don't like eggplant, I thought.
Fortunately, my Little Guy loves the movie "Ratatouille" and I thought it'd be a hoot to try my hand at the title dish. I'm not sure why I picked this recipe, but... it caught my eye. Perhaps it was the unconventional chart at the bottom.
I wish now that I'd chosen the movie version, as that would have been super cool.
But the first recipe is quite tasty. Very winter stew-ish, despite being all summer veggies. I served mine atop cornbread, since I don't have the option of a crusty baguette. The cornbread was a bit crisp from the super-hot oven, and really worked well. We also had some slow-cooked grassfed chuck roast. Delish!
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Grilled Pork Chops
Heavenly... grilled pork chops, braised chard with onions, and crispy-fabulous bacon-wrapped leeks. The one on the right was out-of-this-world good.
We've finally hammered out the best way to do the leeks. Cut any huge ones in half lengthwise (have to anyway, to get 'em clean), wrap with one strip of bacon apiece, and wrap individually in heavy duty foil, like little tootsie rolls.
Grill about ten minutes over high heat, flip over, grill about 10 more minutes. Kinda depends on individual grills, I suppose, and the size of your leeks.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Masterful
Last night's dinner... which the Grill Geek graciously prepared, despite it being the last hours of the Masters golf tournament.
Grilled strip steak... Sidedish (with red bell peppers for a delicious twist), and Bacon-Wrapped Leek. One leek. It was ginormous. I had to bend it around double to fit half of it on my plate. I love the char on that potato on top of my Sidedish. Mmm, mmm, good. And, in case you were wondering, that is not iced tea in the glass. That is bourbon. It was delicious, much-needed, and the reason I didn't get around to posting this last night.
A close-up of the bacon-wrapped leek. The Grill Geek wrapped it in foil, to prevent burning and huge bacon-fat-fueled flare ups. It took longer than we expected to get "done." But... I am left speechless by the delicious divinity of this dish. I made noises while eating. Again.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Mystery Greens
One of the unexpected parts of getting a weekly box of local produce is... sometimes I have no idea what things are. We get to play Guess That Vegetable. Sometimes it's a question of whether some little red thing is a baby beet or a radish... or perhaps a baby turnip or a radish. After all, many of the veggies aren't grocery-store varieties. They are, perhaps, heirloom versions, or simply varieties chosen for their ability to grow well in South Texas.
The most-perplexing for me is the Guess That Green Thing. Sometimes I can't even tell whether something should be served as a salad or braised like collards. So... I nibble it. If it's bitter, braise it. If it's bitter and tough, braise it a long time. Bitter and tender? Braise it quick.
So, here I had salad-looking greens that were INCREDIBLY sour/bitter. I had no idea what they were, but... thanks to kids being kids... no time to try to figure it out. I braised. They were still bitter, but strangely were improved by some lemon juice. You'd think MORE bitter/sour wouldn't help. Well, that's what I thought anyway. But I was wrong!
Yesterday I was confronted with more mysterious greens... they looked like a combination between bok choy and collards. Strange... decided to cook them like collards, after consulting this handy site and deciding they were probably just a variation of collard greens. From that same site I deduced that last night's mystery was sorrel. That explains the sourness. After these been cooking a while I gave 'em a taste.
Spinach.
The mysterious greens... that finally prompted me to search online for a Guide to Greens were plain ol' boring spinach.
And I don't like spinach. I confirmed that last night. The rest of dinner made up for it- roasted turnips and crispy-salty-skinned chicken. The chicken caused a lot of frustration by not cooking fast enough, so I completely forgot to take pictures. Sorry.
Roast turnips are very easy, by the way... cut up somewhat small and toss with oil and salt. Then, depending on what else you've got in the oven, roast at 375 to 450 degrees for 15-30 minutes. It's hard to mess 'em up.
Friday, February 22, 2008
75% Local
How local can you get?
Ok, I realize most of you can't reasonably answer that until spring hits. Spring is here, already, and I'm not sure autumn ever left. That's one really big reason why I love South Texas. I am not a Four Seasons kind of girl. Although I wouldn't mind one nice big snow, complete with sledding. 6-8 inches, with three or four days afterward where the temp hovers around 30, with clear skies.
Anyway, I'm certainly not going to get that here. But what I can get here is lots of great local produce and meat. Tonight's dinner could have been 100% local, excluding the salt, balsamic vinegar, and olive oil. But I haven't yet opted for the local potatoes and mushrooms.
And, um... I have to confess to once again not taking pictures. Um... I was hungry. Didn't even think of it. We had lovely grilled pork chops, from pastured, local pigs. Our Sidedish was a little different, with a very large green onion standing in for a regular yellow one. We tossed some chopped mushrooms in there, as well. And then we had more balsamic-roasted Brussels sprouts. We love them. Even the Little Guy loves them. They are crazy delicious. Has anyone on the face of the planet ever described Brussels sprouts as "crazy delicious???"
As usual, I only got about half my pork chop. We grill hot dogs for the kids (instead of steak or pork chops or smoked whatever), basing our habits on our exceptionally-selective Fairy Child. We tend to forget that our Little Guy is more adventurous. And carnivorous.
Very carnivorous.
Ok, I realize most of you can't reasonably answer that until spring hits. Spring is here, already, and I'm not sure autumn ever left. That's one really big reason why I love South Texas. I am not a Four Seasons kind of girl. Although I wouldn't mind one nice big snow, complete with sledding. 6-8 inches, with three or four days afterward where the temp hovers around 30, with clear skies.
Anyway, I'm certainly not going to get that here. But what I can get here is lots of great local produce and meat. Tonight's dinner could have been 100% local, excluding the salt, balsamic vinegar, and olive oil. But I haven't yet opted for the local potatoes and mushrooms.
And, um... I have to confess to once again not taking pictures. Um... I was hungry. Didn't even think of it. We had lovely grilled pork chops, from pastured, local pigs. Our Sidedish was a little different, with a very large green onion standing in for a regular yellow one. We tossed some chopped mushrooms in there, as well. And then we had more balsamic-roasted Brussels sprouts. We love them. Even the Little Guy loves them. They are crazy delicious. Has anyone on the face of the planet ever described Brussels sprouts as "crazy delicious???"
As usual, I only got about half my pork chop. We grill hot dogs for the kids (instead of steak or pork chops or smoked whatever), basing our habits on our exceptionally-selective Fairy Child. We tend to forget that our Little Guy is more adventurous. And carnivorous.
Very carnivorous.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Duck and Winter Vegetables
I swear I fed the family today.
Twice, before dinner, plus snacks. Constant snacks, in the case of the Little Guy.
And, yet... we set upon that duck like a pack of dogs on a three-legged cat.
There were also roasted turnips and carrots, and braised turnip and mustard greens. Nothing managed to get photographed. I blame the duck.
We couldn't carve it! We both tried. (This is why I really want an electric knife!) We aren't weaklings, but I guess this duck still had a little quack in it. After 5 minutes of smelling it's roasty, crinkly-skinned goodness and whacking away on it, while it slid on the platter now-greased with delicious duck fat... we gave up and agreed to just rip the flesh off it's bones with our forks.
And that's what we did.
Therefore, there was no plating. So, I completely forgot to take pictures.
It truly was gorgeous. So brown and crispy. My second attempt at mustard greens was successful... thanks to the addition of a bit of honey, to counteract the bitterness. But none survived the gorging. Our Little Guy didn't waste any time on his greens, which is unusual for him. No... he demanded duck. And more duck. And "more duck, Mom?" Yeah. He digs duck. I can see why. I now have it in my stock pot, with a couple of bay leaves and a few peppercorns. I want every last bit of goodness!
And even the roasted turnips were good. I have horrible memories of turnips from my childhood. As probably all kids my age were... I was forced (by my grandparents, not my mom) to clean my plate. That plate often included "icky" things like boiled turnips, microwaved squash, or onions. Now, of course, I like all those things... but prepared my way!
And I still don't like okra.
Twice, before dinner, plus snacks. Constant snacks, in the case of the Little Guy.
And, yet... we set upon that duck like a pack of dogs on a three-legged cat.
We couldn't carve it! We both tried. (This is why I really want an electric knife!) We aren't weaklings, but I guess this duck still had a little quack in it. After 5 minutes of smelling it's roasty, crinkly-skinned goodness and whacking away on it, while it slid on the platter now-greased with delicious duck fat... we gave up and agreed to just rip the flesh off it's bones with our forks.
And that's what we did.
Therefore, there was no plating. So, I completely forgot to take pictures.
It truly was gorgeous. So brown and crispy. My second attempt at mustard greens was successful... thanks to the addition of a bit of honey, to counteract the bitterness. But none survived the gorging. Our Little Guy didn't waste any time on his greens, which is unusual for him. No... he demanded duck. And more duck. And "more duck, Mom?" Yeah. He digs duck. I can see why. I now have it in my stock pot, with a couple of bay leaves and a few peppercorns. I want every last bit of goodness!
And even the roasted turnips were good. I have horrible memories of turnips from my childhood. As probably all kids my age were... I was forced (by my grandparents, not my mom) to clean my plate. That plate often included "icky" things like boiled turnips, microwaved squash, or onions. Now, of course, I like all those things... but prepared my way!
And I still don't like okra.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Food of the Gods
I had been wanting to try the recipe for Beef and Potatoes au Chocolat for quite some time. I had the perfect steak in my freezer... I had the good cocoa powder... and I finally had an occasion. Valentine's Day. No other day could be more-perfect for an off-label use of cocoa. But then time got away from me, and I couldn't have slow-cooked it sufficiently. So, it had to wait a day. I'm sure St. Valentine won't mind.
I paired mine with her recommendation for Pumpkin Corn Muffins and roasted Brussels sprouts. It was so good! The muffins, when used to soak up the juicy goodness, somehow worked miracles at bringing out the chocolate flavor. I realized too-late that I had no stone-ground corn meal, and thought perhaps the finer stuff I had (Quaker) would be too dense. So, halfway following her suggestions for corn-free muffins, I used a combination of 1/2 cup corn meal, 1/4 cup quinoa flakes (that I bought for hot breakfast cereal but... didn't really like) and 1/4 cup cream of buckwheat cereal (which is better than quinoa, but I never think to make it.) I can't possibly describe how much I love these muffins. They are fabulous.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Beets Take-out!
I love holiday-colored food. Ok, not really. I've never even had green beer for Irish Heritage Day (I refuse to credit St. Patfuck with anything beyond genocide.) But when I just-so-happened to stumble across a recipe today for a viciously-red sidedish, I had to try it. The recipe came from Coconut & Lime, and I can't really explain why mine are SO much redder than hers. My beets never really got tender enough to mash with the potatoes, so I put it all in my food processor. (And it looks like I killed it... I got sticky, sugary-beety goodness in nooks and crannies I didn't know existed on that thing. Oops.) I didn't use the sour cream called for, because I can't have dairy. I think the creaminess would have been nice, but any extra "sour" would not. Maybe that explains the difference in hue?
The rest of dinner consisted of thick, grilled pork chops and a broccoli dish loosely taken from my new fabulous Jamie Oliver cookbook. Oh, and I topped the beets with microgreens... cuz it was pretty, and because the leaves are vaguely heart-shaped. I like cheesy Valentiney goodness. 10 years ago today I became a mother (didn't know it until about three weeks later), so it's a big holiday for me.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Brussels Sprouts?
I never thought I'd like Brussels sprouts.
But, I got a bag of them in my local produce delivery box... and they looked innocent enough... and I just happened to find a recipe for them on Simply Recipes (one of my favorite food blogs.) So, I gave 'em a try. And I like them! Heck, I think even Mikey would like these.
I followed the recipe closely, except I used bacon fat and refined coconut oil (doesn't smell/taste coconutty) instead of butter. Since I can't have butter. And I'm still really bitter about that. But, bacony goodness almost made up for it. Oh, and she mentions Meyer lemons... if you ever have the chance, grab as many as you can. They are awesome! I got one of those in my local box, too, and it tastes exactly like lemon meringue... so sweet and lovely.
The rest of dinner was tasty, as well. A salad with sliced white radishes (local) and baby turnips (local and surprisingly delicious) and meatloaf. Once again, I followed her recipe pretty closely. Except I put salsa in it, instead of ketchup. But, trusting her judgment, I went ahead and put ketchup on top... and reconfirmed my absolute hatred of the condiment. Blech. I really don't like ketchup.
Monday, October 15, 2007
I Love Coleslaw!
Love. Love love love love love. Well, I love this coleslaw... adapted from Julia Child's book, seen above. I just use the dressing part of the recipe, so far, as the rest involves a lot of chopping. And I like to have cole slaw on nights that hubby grills... so I want my entire involvement over quick. That way it feels more like a night off.
My Version of Saint Julia's Coleslaw
1 Tbs Dijon-type (her words, my emphasis) mustard
2 Tbs raw apple cider vinegar
1/2 tsp coarse grey salt (never trust a white salt!)
1/2 tsp Rapadura sugar
1/4 tsp cumin, ground
1/4 tsp celery salt (or celery seed, if you've got it)
several grinds of fresh pepper
1/3-1/2 cup mayonnaise (no Miracle Whip or I will hunt you down and hurt you)
... drum roll please... the secret ingredient to coleslaw nirvana... 1 tsp liquidy bacon fat
Heh heh heh
Mix that all together in a big bowl. Add about half a bag of finely-shredded coleslaw cabbage (the tri-color tastes best, if you can get it, dressing tastes good on broccoli slaw, too, but you'll have a very wet coleslaw). Stir. Once that first bit is good and wet, add about half of what's left. Stir. Add the rest. Stir.
Eat. Or serve, if you're feeling futzy.
I usually have about half of this left by the time the rest of dinner is ready. It's sooooooo good.
To the right, the wonderful, crunchy, salty, charry goodness that is grilled asparagus. Tonight the hubby got the idea (gee, wonder where from?) to toss it with bacon fat prior to grilling, instead of olive oil.
He also salted it, and was a tad concerned that it would be too salty. Ha! I have two taste buds at the moment- sour and salty. Oh... three... and beefy.
So, to round out the meal, lightly-warmed grass-fed steaks. I think the packages said "t-bone," but they must have been from the end of that primal. Still positively yummy.
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About Me
- Bekki
- Tejas, United States
- I am many things... all at the same time. (No wonder I don't get much done!) I am a wife to a retired infantryman, mother of 3, stocker (and stalker) of the fridge, passionate fan of food, nutrition, ecology, coffee, wine, and college football. I love all things witchy and piratey. I often cook with booze. I feed stray cats. I don't believe in sunscreen. I don't like shoes and really hate socks. And I currently can't eat any gluten, dairy, eggs, soy, coconut(!?), or sodium metabisulfite (aw, shucks, no chemical snackies.) Sometimes even citric acid gets me. But only sometimes.