three hundred and twenty-nine

That was the longest "tomorrow" ever. I had intended to share my recipe for green beans last Wednesday, followed by my Thanksgiving pictures and this week's menu plan* on Friday, but the holidays got in my way. I managed to overwork my side effect addled self to the point that I almost ended up being hospitalized for IV fluids.

As a last "please don't make me pay the ER copay" resort, after three days of tons of vomiting and little to no eating and drinking, I buckled down and followed some weird Oregon Trail-esque rehydration treatment (no, I am not kidding) that involved teaspoonfuls of room temperature water every 15 minutes. I kept 72+ ounces down last night, and I'm halfway through my third-24 ounce tumbler of water today as I speak, so I think it's safe to say I have dodged yet another medical bullet.

So, without further ado, here's a recipe I never want to see again. I'm not sure if I can recommend anyone make it, as it only ever seems to cause frustration for me whenever I try to share the recipe. If you're one of those daredevils who likes living on the edge, click through for the recipe. Caveat coquus!

*Speaking of menu plans... I have a big old cache of them built up. Do any of you want to see what I ate a few weeks ago? I'm thinking not, because there's only so many menus one can read without going mad.

two hundred and eighty-one

"If you had to summarize summer in three words, which words would you choose?  Swimming, picnics, and ice cream?  Vacations, thunderstorms, and fireflies?  Bikinis, bonfires, and s’mores?  How about red, white, and blue?..."

Read the rest of the post "Red, White, and Blue Potato Salad" on Home Ec 101.

P.S.  Stuff about life after the jump.

two hundred and forty-five

Though I've been menu planning for the last five years or so, I still have my share of those what's for dinner tonight? moments.  They don't happen regularly or even often, but sometimes I realize that what I had planned simply wasn't going to work for whatever reason.  As someone who loves to plan and be organized, those moments drive me absolutely bonkers and often lead to a cheap but only kind of satisfying meal at a restaurant downtown that has epically good pickles. 

Since I decided to modify my grocery budget a couple of weeks ago, however, buying a BLT as an excuse to eat pickles is no longer an option (if I want my husband to eat every day of any given week, that is).  I figured I could avoid those what's for dinner? moments by more carefully planning my menus, but chronic pain and awkwardly timed Fresh Direct deliveries can get in the way of even my best laid plans--which is why I found myself wandering the Shop Rite in search of some sort of quick, budget-friendly meal last Friday.

I immediately saw yellow rice for 49 cents a packet, so I threw a couple of those in my basket.  I grabbed some black beans because, duh, black beans go with yellow rice.  Since my husband likes meat in meals, I decided I'd blacken some chicken, and since I like to not die of malnutrition, I decided some peppers and onions would round out the mix.  The only problem was how to serve it.  Feeling lazy, I decided on throwing it in a bowl and calling it a day.  Honestly, I wasn't looking forward to it, but the bowl'o'Mexican-ish stuff ended up being easy and delicious. 

Best of all, I got a blog post out of it!  Woohoo!

two hundred and twenty-six

Today I met with one of my pain management center's nurse practitioners, and she was absolutely lovely.  After chatting for a few minutes, she abruptly stated that I needed to stop being so obsessive and paranoid about doing something wrong and/or being seen as a druggo.  She said it jokingly after I mentioned that I felt like my patches weren't lasting a full seven days (but that I was probably just imagining it [turns out, a lot of people say the same thing!]), but the more I think about the nurse's words, the more I realize that her advice rings true in all aspects of my life.

As you probably know, I'm a terrible combination of perfectionist and ADHD.  I literally cannot make myself slow down enough to think before I act, which means that I end up I spending a lot of time thinking about what I should have done, or should have said, or (more often) shouldn't have said.  Have you ever experienced presque vu?  It's when you just know the word you want to use, but you can't seem to think of the right one.  Most people just shrug it off, but with the way my brain works, I'll suddenly blurt out the forgotten word days or even weeks later.  I think about it in my spare time without realizing it, only because I can't just accept that a word could be so easily forgotten.  Crazy, right?  And that's just how much I think about something as inconsequential as a single word!

As frustrating as my obsession may be, I feel that it is the driving force behind my love of homemaking.  Some people groan and grumble at the thought of cooking dinner or scrubbing the baseboards, but my perfectionism makes it an enjoyable challenge--most of the time.  After a long day, my Type A self retires to its mental chambers, leaving the inexperienced Type B Michele to tentatively poke her figurative head out of her possibly less figurative shell.  Type B Michele demands video games, drawing in the dust instead of wiping it, asking the cats to wash the dishes, and (perhaps most importantly) easy dinners--much like the one I'm going to share with you now.

Enjoy!  Or don't.  I don't really care.  (Don't worry, I'll be back to my normal obsessive self tomorrow.)

one hundred and ninety-eight

I absolutely love Mexican food (as evidenced by my menu plans,) but I hate to admit that I am not a fan of "real" Mexican food.  Something about the lack of cheese (sorry, but my stomach does not recognize cotijo as cheese) combined with the corn tortillas and pickled onions never fails to leave me wanting for a drive through taco.  I suppose this means I'm not really a "foodie," but I know that I can't be alone in preferring nachos to menudo, right? 

It certainly feels as though I am when I try to eat at Mexican restaurants in New Jersey.  When Mr N and I lived in the South, we would go out for tacos or nachos (or pollo fundido!) once a month or so.  It was cheap and entirely unauthentic, but over the top delicious.  It makes my mouth water to think about the cheesy, crunchy mess of a meal to this day, but there is simply no where in the area(that isn't a chain) that sells the cheap "Mexican" food I crave. 

So, I make my own.  Sometimes it'll be your standard issue beef + taco seasoning + hard taco shells, other times it will be carnitas, but more often than not we end up having chicken soft tacos.  Not only is the recipe super easy, it is inexpensive, reheats well, and is sure to please anyone who even kind of likes homemade Mexican food.  It's so good, it may just become your go to recipe (in my oh so humble opinion.  Ahem.)

one hundred and ninety-three

Being that I'm very much a creature of habit, my most commonly prepared foods are simply variations on a theme.  That's not to say I don't like to experiment with new recipes or try unique restaurants, of course, but there are times that I enjoy not having to worry about constantly tasting and adjusting a new dish. Fortunately for you, these go to recipes are inherently well tested, which means that they're the ones that end up posted on this blog--but unfortunately (for me), these are the meals that can sometimes feel like they've been served one time too many.

As you may know, I'm more than a little prone to food cravings.  My husband, on the other hand, never seems to have any sort of opinion about food* until it's cooked and sitting in front of him.  Our completely opposite (yet disturbingly complementary) food preferences put together mean that we eat whatever I feel like on any given day--and these days, I have been craving fresher, springier meals (in no small part thanks to the blahness of the SNAP Challenge.)  So, easy, right?  Why not just make springy stuff and be done with it?

I've been feeling terrible for the last month or so due to medication changes,** so I haven't really had the pain tolerance or level of concentration to stand in the kitchen and think about/experiment with a nice salad or tasty spring lamb.  What's a disabled homemaker to do?  Why, fall back on one of those easy-peasy go to meals--and put a twist on it, of course!

*except that bacon > beef > everything else
**sometimes, generic =/= name brand side effect-wise, it seems.

one hundred and eighty-three

Is it really Monday again already?  In fear of losing power, was spent playing video games, listening to music, cooking, finishing up some Samurai Sudokus (copied from the Washington Post by a lovely friend), and looking out the windows.  Of course, since we were fully prepared, the lights didn't even flicker.

Despite the power's awesome cooperation throughout the storm, however, I still had a terrible time sorting out food this weekend.  Between things not working out well (I'm looking at you, disgusting baked oatmeal that ended up being fed to the trash) and my whim-influenced food cravings (ahem, hollandaise sauce and garlicky chicken), the SNAP Challenge menu plan I posted last week got turned on its head.  Fortunately, we're still on track to finish the challenge, but with the following modifications to the remaining days of the plan:

Monday
Breakfast - ham, egg and cheese biscuit sandwiches oatmeal brown sugar muffins
Lunch - leftover stuffed baked potatoes or grilled cheese chili

Dinner - leftover beef and bean chili with fresh cornbread stuffed baked potatoes

Tuesday
Breakfast - leftover oatmeal brown sugar muffins
Lunch - leftover chili and cornbread baked potatoes

Dinner - white chicken enchiladas (using thigh meat)

Wednesday
Breakfast - egg and cheese biscuit sandwiches
Lunch - leftover enchiladas or grilled cheese

Dinner - beef and rice lettuce wraps leftover chili and fresh cornbread

Thursday
Breakfast - leftover muffins biscuits
Lunch - leftover lettuce wraps or enchiladas

Now, on to day four's foodstuffs and a recipe for a luxurious but SNAP friendly breakfast: eggs Benedict-ish.

SNAP Challenge - Day Four

 

Breakfast - eggs Benedict-ish (recipe below!)

Lunch - grilled cheese and tomato soup

Dinner - rosemary garlic chicken Francese with mashed potatoes and green beans

 

one hundred and seventy-five

My favorite thing about wintertime is not crackling fires, fuzzy scarves, or the serenity of falling snow.  It's not the holidays, or snazzy knee-high socks, or Macy's window displays, or even the release of the next season in The Simpsons DVD collection (which is saying something).  No, it's about the food.

Winter is the one time of year when we get downright primal about our food intake, gorging on savories and sweets as though we are in a perpetual state of preparing for hibernation, and it's something that I always take full advantage of when planning my meals for even the warmest of winter weeks.  From November until March, my menu plans are full of soups, chilis, stews, (did I mention soups?) and one of my favorite non-soup meals: chicken pot pie.

There's just one problem.  The only chicken pot pies I ever had as a child were (unbeknownst to my mother) eaten at my grandmother's house, which means they came from the freezer aisle.  I have never been able to enjoy a chicken pot pie made from whole ingredients, yet I can't bring myself to purchase premade freezer pies because, come on, they're freezer pies.  I was faced with a serious conundrum: give up pot pies forever or learn to like the "real" kind.

Since I'm a stubborn little monkey, however, I wasn't able to do either and ended up having to meet myself in the middle of the road.  Inspired by a source I normally ignore, the chicken pot pie recipe that follows combines an awesome homemade crust with a shameful quantity of store bought Italian salad dressing.  I know, I know.  It sounds terrible, but it really is comfort food at its finest--once you learn to ignore your inner foodie, of course.

one hundred and sixty-four

One of the things I'm often reluctant to 'fess up to is my love of Americanized Chinese food.  It's greasy, it's overpriced, and worst of all, you're hungry an hour after you put down your fork chopsticks.  If I were a less stubborn person, I would probably just decide that I don't care for Chinese food.  Since that's not exactly an option, I took the "mess around in the kitchen until you make something that tastes kind of like Chinese food" route.

The first few attempts were a disaster due to my fear of the food ending up too salty.  I quickly learned that, as with most restaurant recipe rip offs, there is almost no such thing as "too salty".  So, I doubled the soy sauce and ended up with... soy saucey chicken.  Not quite what I was aiming for, but it was getting there; I just had to figure out what I could use to balance out the salt.  While rummaging through the cabinets in a fit of frustration, the answer literally fell on my head--a gift from above in the form of a bottle of ginger.

That was when I realized that I had been going about it all wrong.  I needed to focus on improving Americanized Chinese food rather than emulating it.  So, I tossed out all of my work and started from scratch.  The end result remains one of my all time favorites, not only due to the deliciousness, but also because it can be prepared in the time it takes for the rice to cook.  Who needs takeaway, anyway?  Recipe is after the jump and menu plan.

Menu Plan : January 11 - 17, 2012

Due to my lack of smell (and thus taste) over the last couple of weeks, I have been less than inspired in the menu plan department.  Just in case the sick doesn't hit the road for a while, I've made sure to include lots of easy meals with plenty of leftovers for Mr. N to bring for lunch.  The salad is something I often don't look forward to, but one of the bajillion small batch balsamic vinegars in our cupboard turns it from an "ew, healthy" meal to something almost cravable. 

Friday : ginger chicken and greenbeans (recipe follows)

Saturday : pollo fundido

Sunday : balsamic beef chili with cornbread

Monday : tuna and butter bean salad with Italian bread

Tuesday : chicken soft tacos

Wednesday : spaghetti and meatballs

Thursday : leftover chili and cornbread

Dessert : sopapillas

one hundred and forty-two

I've had my slow cooker for a little over two weeks now, which has been just enough time to fall in love with the contraption--and immediately fall into a state of confusion at the number of slow cooker recipes that rely on cream of whatever soup, or packaged soup mix, or soup seasoning, or... soup.  I was getting ready to give up and just throw everything into the slow cooker and call it a day, but then out of nowhere three words popped into my head: Home Ec 101 (shush, the 101 is hyphenated).  My go-to recipe index came to the rescue and I was able to get my roast on as planned.

Despite years of being one of Heather's squealing fangirls, I have a weakness: I can't follow a recipe.  Not even from a source I love and recommend.  No matter how good it may taste, no matter how classic it may be, there is not a single chef or cook that is safe from my modifications.  Most of the time, I would rely on my memory of the flavors of the finished product, rather than taking the 30 seconds to note any changes to the original recipe.

When others would ask for my recipes, I would direct them to the one that had inspired me, and would then sheepishly listen to the laments of my friends' failed attempts at "my" lime cookies, "my" roasted chicken, or "my" tortillas.  I would try to explain what changes I had made, but by that point it was always too late and the response would invariably be a short, "I'll just wait until next time you make it."

Now that I have a blog, however, I never fail to cook with a notebook at hand.  I taste, season, note, taste, season, note, until I'm almost too full for dinner (note that I said almost).  Why all of this strife?  Why not just post links to recipes and then say, "Add some rosemary and balsamic as needed?"  One word, my friends: content.

Slow Cooker Pot Roast with Gravy

Adapted from Home Ec 101's Wine Braised Pot Roast, this slow cooker recipe is super simple and super tasty--and the leftovers make awesome French dip sandwiches or stew!  Add some carrots and potatoes and you have a one pot meal!  The smell is almost unbearably delicious, so I recommend this meal for a busy weekend when you and your family won't be tempted to spend all day standing in the kitchen staring at your CrockPot.  (Not that I speak from experience.)

1 3-5 lb. roast (I used bottom round)

2 tsp kosher salt

fresh pepper, to taste

2 tbsp butter

1 tbsp olive oil

2 sweet onions, sliced

6 cloves of garlic, smashed

6 oz. red wine (I used a mini bottle of merlot)

2 bay leaves

2 tsp dried rosemary, crumbled

1-10.5 oz. can beef consummé

2 tbsp Worcestershire sauce

3 tbsp balsamic vinegar 

4 large carrots, cut into medallions (optional)

2 lbs. red skinned potatoes, cubed (optional)

3 tbsp corn starch mixed with 3 tbsp cold water (for gravy)

Trim any silver skin or fat from the roast.  Season the roast with salt and pepper.

In a large pan over medium-high heat, melt the butter and olive oil.  Once the butter begins to bubble, place the roast into the pan, then wiggle it a bit to keep it from sticking.  Cook for three minutes, or until brown, then flip the roast.  Repeat the browning process on all sides, then transfer the roast into your slow cooker.

Reduce the pan's heat to medium, then add the onions and garlic.  Cook, stirring frequently, for about 15 minutes, or until the onions have caramelized.  Reduce the heat to medium-low if the onions are starting to brown too quickly.

Once the onions and garlic have caramelized, push them off to the side of the pan.  Add the wine to deglaze.  Remove the pan from the heat and dump the onions over the pot roast in the slow cooker.

Add the bay leaves, rosemary, beef consumme, Worcestershire, and vinegar to the slow cooker.

Cover and cook on low for about 10 hours.  For a one pot meal, add the carrots and potatoes after about 3 hours and continue to cook over low.

Remove the roast from the slow cooker and allow to rest, covered, on a cutting board.

If you added them, use a slotted spoon to remove the vegetables.  Discard the bay leaves.

Turn the slow cooker onto high.  Whisk in the corn starch slurry and cook gravy until thickened, about 10 minutes.  Taste, then season as desired.

Serves 6-8.

one hundred and thirty-eight

Before I start this post, I want to give a big, public "Thank you!" to my friend Cara for her help with my "bleh" food photographs.  In case you haven't noticed, I haven't had to use the ugly food tag ever since I started using her tips some weeks ago; I was even able to get a tasty looking picture of pollo fundido using my point and shoot!  Check out her blog, Simply: Homemade Life, if you're in the mood to drool all over your keyboard. ;-)

If you're like me, you've had at least one experience in cooking where you have ended up disappointed in the end result.  Not because you messed anything up, or because you made substitutions, but because you made assumptions.  Well, you know what they say about assumptions.

Last night I made the calzones, as planned.  They turned out well--inside.  The crust was nearly inedible; it was sour from resting in the refrigerator overnight, it didn't roll out the way pizza dough usually does, and it decided that it didn't like my seal.  Oh, and it wouldn't brown.  Ugh.

Nonetheless, the filling was absolutely delicious.  It could have only been made more delicious by the addition of balsamic vinegar, so I'm including that in the recipe.  (There I go with the assumptions again!)  I'm going to share the recipe with you for the filling, but until I give the calzones another shot this weekend or early next week, I'm not going to provide you with a dough recipe.  In theory, you should be able to use your favorite regular (not thin crust) pizza dough recipe.  In practice, I'm thinking that Tyler Florence's focaccia dough might make an excellent crust.  I'll update the recipe next week to include the crust, but until then...

Spinach Alfredo Calzones with Turkey

Note to self: pictures on cutting board =/= easy to color correct

This calzone filling also makes a delicious combination of toppings for a white pizza.  Just roll out the dough, top with alfredo sauce (and seasoned ricotta, if desired), then follow with spinach, tomatoes, turkey or chicken, and mozzarella/provelone.  The calzones can be served with a side of red dipping sauce, but we enjoyed them plain.  Each calzone made as directed is large enough for two hungry adults; divide the dough and ingredients into quarters rather than halves to make each one a (large!) single serving.

1 batch of your favorite pizza crust, preferably not left to ferment overnight

1 tbsp olive oil, plus extra for brushing

3 fresh (or 1 can) tomatoes, deseeded and chopped if fresh, drained if canned

1-10 oz. box frozen (or 3 cups fresh) spinach, defrosted and fully drained if frozen

1 tsp dried oregano

1/2 tsp garlic powder (or 2-3 cloves fresh garlic)

1-2 tbsp balsamic vinegar (use more if your balsamic is sweeter)

1-2 cups cooked, shredded turkey or chicken

1 jar or batch of your favorite alfredo sauce

12 oz. ricotta cheese

1/2 tsp chili powder

1 + 1/2 tsp kosher salt (use less if desired)

1 tsp dried basil

fresh ground pepper, to taste

2 cups mozzarella or Italian/pizza cheese blend

Prepare the pizza crust dough according to instructions.  After it has risen, divide it into halves and then allow to rest for about 10 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 400.

Meanwhile, add 1 tbsp olive oil to a large pan set over medium-high heat.  Add the tomatoes and cook, stirring frequently, until cooked down (or if canned: until they no longer smell metallic), about 5 minutes.  If you are using fresh garlic, add it now.  Stir in the spinach, oregano, garlic powder, and 1 tsp of the salt.  Allow to cook an additional 3 minutes, or until fragrant.  

Push the tomatoes and spinach off to one side of the pan.  Add the balsamic to the empty side of the pan to deglaze, then stir in the shredded turkey or chicken.  Stir until heated through, about 2 minutes.

Remove pan from heat and stir in alfredo sauce.  Set aside (over low heat, if needed).

In a medium bowl, mix the ricotta, chili powder, the remaining 1/2 tsp kosher salt, basil, and pepper.

On a floured surface, roll your balls of dough out into two large circles, about 10-12" in diameter; no need to measure, just eyeball it.  Brush circles with olive oil, leaving a 1/2 inch boarder of unoiled dough around the circumference for sealing.  Spread half of the ricotta mixture onto half of the circle of dough, again keeping the circle's edges clean.  Top the ricotta with half of the turkey-alfredo mixture, then top with one cup of the mozzarella cheese.  Add additional parmesan, if desired.

Carefully fold the naked side of the calzone over the filling, lining up the edges as best as you can.  Crimp with a fork or your fingers, then fold the edges over like a pie crust and crimp again.  Using your hands or a bench scraper, transfer the sealed calzone to a lined or cornmeal coated baking sheet.  For extra crispness, cut steam vents in the top; bonus points if it's decorative!  Brush the top of the dough with additional oil, then sprinkle with salt, if desired.

Repeat the process with the second dough round and the remaining ingredients.

Bake at 400 for about 30 minutes, or until the crust has browned and the cheese in the steam vents is bubbly and delicious.  Cool on a rack for at least 10 minutes before eating to avoid burning your face off.

Serves 4.

one hundred and twenty-five

Dear Internet,

I couldn't think of a blog post today because PSE&G keeps messing with my head with its random outages.  Since I'm not a total bum, I figured a recipe might be a good compromise.  Just for good measure, I'll even make it seasonal and Thanksgiving-y.  So, here's my recipe for beer brined bone-in turkey breast, complete with a punny title.

Love,
Michele

Baysted Bone-In Turkey Breast with Pan Gravy

Start with:

6-8 lb. bone-in turkey breast, thawed if frozen

Brine overnight in:

1/4 cup kosher salt

1/4 cup packed brown sugar

1/4 cup apple cider vinegar

1-12 oz. bottle ale (I used Magic Hat HIPA)

water to cover

When you're ready to roast, remove the turkey from the brine and rinse thoroughly inside and out.  Pat dry.

Place the turkey breast side down on a large cutting board.  Using kitchen shears, cut along either side of the spine (your shears will cut through the ribs) until you encounter resistance.  Place one palm flat on the very top of the spine.  Using your free hand, grab the wing (or what's left of it, if your breast came wingless) and bend it towards the spine.  You know, like you're trying to break its shoulder, because that's precisely what you're attempting to do. 

Repeat the process on the other shoulder, then use your shears to finish removing the spine by cutting through the space between the shoulder and arm.  Don't throw away the spine or any scraps (except for the white tube-looking spinal cord because yuck).

Allow the turkey to rest at room temperature while you make...

Lazy Turkey Stock:

32 oz. homemade or store bought chicken stock

scraps from turkey

Combine stock and scraps in a medium pot.  Simmer covered over medium heat for 45 minutes, or until it smells sufficiently turkey-y.  

Meanwhile, start on...

Bay Butter:

8 Turkish bay leaves

12 tbsp salted butter

In a small saucepan, melt the butter.  Stir in the bay leaves, then infuse over low heat for about 30 minutes, or until fragrant.  Fish out the bay leaves and set them aside.

While the butter is infusing, gather...

The Rest of the Stuff:

1 onion, cut into eighths

2 ribs celery, cut into thirds

2 tsp garlic powder

1/2 tsp paprika

salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 375.

Once the butter and broth are done, place the turkey breast-up on a roasting pan.  Slide your hand under the skin to disconnect it from the meat.  Slightly lift the breast off of the pan and slide the onion, celery, and bay leaves (from the Bay Butter) into the hollow space under the rib cage.  Gently rest the turkey on top of the veggies, making sure nothing's poking out.

Coat the turkey with the bay butter, then sprinkle with garlic powder, salt, pepper, and paprika.  Place the turkey in the preheated oven and roast at 375 for 30 minutes.

Carefully pour two cups of the broth into the bottom of the roasting pan.  Baste the turkey with the juices and broth from the bottom of the pan.  Reduce the heat to 325 and roast an additional 1 1/2 hours, basting again at the one hour mark, and one last time at the one hour-thirty minute mark.  If the pan begins to dry out or the drippings begin to burn, add extra broth one cup at a time.

Remove from the oven once the temperature in the thickest part of the breast measures 165.  Allow to rest on the counter 20 minutes before carving.  Meanwhile, remove the veggies and bay leaves from the roasting pan and start on...

Pan Gravy:

pan drippings from roasted turkey (above)

2 tbsp flour

2 tbsp butter

1 cup turkey broth

chicken stock, as needed

salt and pepper, to taste

In a small pot, melt the butter.  Whisk in the flour to create a roux, cooking for about one minute or until it smells nutty.

Whisk in the pan drippings and turkey broth, adding chicken stock 1/4 cup at a time until the gravy reaches your desired consistency.  Check seasoning, then...

Eat:

one hundred and eighteen

Some friends are chatting together, reminiscing of their great-great grandmothers' matzo ball soup they all had during the holidays when they were growing up.  Each remembered their family's soup as perfect and unable to be topped, which in turn offended the person sitting to their left (who am I kidding?  The person to their right got offended, too).  After much arguing and disagreement, the friends decide to have a matzo ball-off, each preparing their grandmother's recipe for the group to judge. 

Each eager to prove himself right, the friends headed to their respective homes and phoned their respective grandmothers.  When they were through being berated for not calling often enough, each asked for the family recipe for matzo balls.  All over the country, Bubbies hemmed and hawed, then made hasty breaks from the phone. 

The friends blamed their Bubbies' odd behavior on the affects of forgetfulness and age, and then called their mothers.  When they were through being berated for not calling often enough, each asked again for the super secret, super special family recipe--only to be left even more confused when their mothers responded with uproarious laughter.  The friends waited for their mothers to collect themselves (assuming there was an oft told story attached to the recipe, as tends to be the case), pens poised over notebooks.  Finally the collective mothers finally pulled themselves together long enough to say, "Manischewitz".

Bubby's Secret Matzo Ball Soup

1 whole chicken, ~5 pounds

1 large onion, quartered and peeled

4 carrots, quartered and peeled

4 ribs of celery, quartered, leaves reserved

4 cloves garlic, smashed

2 bay leaves

1 tbsp salt

pepper, to taste

water

1/2 cup celery leaves, chopped

Remove the giblets from the chicken, rinsing out the cavity after.  Place the rinsed chicken in a large stock pot, along with the onion, carrots, celery, garlic, bay leaves, salt, and pepper.  Add enough water to cover the chicken.  

Over medium-high heat, bring the pot to a boil.  Cover the pot, then reduce the heat to low and simmer about 3 hours, or until the chicken is cooked through and falling apart.  

Carefully remove the chicken from the pot to a carving board or rimmed baking sheet.

Strain the broth through cheesecloth into a large bowl, then discard the vegetables.  Rinse out the pot you cooked the chicken in, then pour the strained broth back into the pot.  Taste the broth and add more salt and pepper as desired.

Using your hands or two forks, pick the chicken off of the bones and put it into the broth.  Cover and simmer over low heat an additional hour.

Follow the package directions to mix the matzo balls (make both packages that come in the box).  Once they have been chilled and then formed into balls, remove the lid from the pot and increase the heat to medium-high to bring the broth to a boil.  Stir in the chopped celery leaves.

Drop the matzo balls into the broth and then cover with the lid.  Reduce the heat back to low and simmer until the matzo balls are puffy and floating, about 20 minutes.

Enjoy!  And don't tell anyone my family's secret recipe, that is, unless you're prepared to find out that it's your Bubby's secret, too. ;-)

ninety-one

In case I haven't gotten my point across yet, I'll state once again that I'm a fan of food.  I like cooking it, I like eating it, and I like reading about it, but I don't like looking at it.  I know that the Internetz are full of people with thousand dollar cameras who love to create blogs, sites, and Pinterest boards full of pictures of cakes meant to resemble the Tibetan monks that milled the super special wheatless "flour" that went into the batter or child-pleasing plates of broccoli made into scale models of, say, Sherwood Forest.  Even the humblest of casseroles can be made to look like Manna rained down from the heavens to come to a rest on platinum-edged china.

 Don't get me wrong, I'm impressed by the work and the skill behind the photography, but the pictures certainly don't make me hungry or leave me inspired (maybe because I've learned too many food photographers' "secrets").  Usually, I just end up feeling too embarrassed to post my original recipes because I feel like the pictures aren't up to par.  Today, I was hit with the realization that, duh, this is the Internet!  This is the one place where I could say I enjoy sandwiches made of modelling clay and I wouldn't be alone.  So I've decided that I'm standing up for ugly-yet-delicious meals by sharing one of the ugliest, cheapest, easiest foods in the world...

sixty-six

Until I moved in with my husband, I was not a "breakfast person".  I would wake up and be content to not eat until lunch time, even if I was planning on doing something active in the morning.  I know that, in theory, skipping breakfast makes one sluggish and can wreak havoc on one's metabolism, but from an early age my body just wasn't cool with eating before noon.

That's not to say that I didn't love breakfast food, mind you.  I've always loved muffins, cinnamon rolls, omelets, pancakes, bagels, English muffins, etc. but I usually ate them as a snack or dinner.  Mr. N doesn't quite share my belief that breakfast foods are best served at dinner time (not that he doesn't appreciate pancakes for dinner) and actually appreciates eating before noon.  Sure, I could let him make a bowl of cereal, but I'm Super Wife, damn it.  That means that I martyr myself, make banana bread in the afternoon*, haul myself out of bed at 6 a.m. and toast the bread while my husband showers.  After all of that hard work, I have to share the recipe I used with my many fans so that you, too, may finally be as awesome as the Nifty Mrs. N.  You're welcome. ;-)

*you know, to trick myself into craving it all night and into the next morning

sixty

Wow, sixty posts!  I was amazed when I got to thirty and am mighty dumbfounded by how long I've managed to keep blogging.  I know that sixty isn't exactly a milestone, but considering the fact that blogging is essentially a chore to me, I'm going to celebrate anyway.  Party, party!  Okay, celebration over; now, it's time to discuss something interesting and positive to come out of this blog.

I am the sort of person to mention something in passing, then forget all about it.  For example, I'll muse that I want to stop using coupons or that I want to save money on groceries.  Since I've been blogging, these random thoughts have become (possibly boring) post fodder and, in doing so, they have also become Official Thoughts rather than just random conversations with my husband and/or myself.  In writing a post, I have to actually sit down and think about, say, how much money I'm wasting on newspapers ($250 a year!).  It can probably go without saying that those realizations make me feel kind of guilty and wasteful, so I can't just do nothing.  This blog has opened my eyes (yeah, yeah, call me corny) and been the kick in the butt that I need to let go of my newspaper subscriptions, drop my grocery budget from $200 to $75 a week, and become a(n even) better homemaker with my husband's help*.

*that post will be coming in the next couple of weeks

Kay, recipe time!

fifty-eight

I know, I know, I didn't write a make-up post today, but at least I have a regularly scheduled post!  That has to count for something, right?  If it doesn't, I'll blame my lack of the promised post on the fact that I'm a newlywed--or on the hurricane that's supposed to be blowing right over New Jersey this evening.  Your choice of excuses!  How's that for service?

As I've gotten older and have become a better cook, I have been faced with a frustratingly depressing reality in which restaurant food ceases to be worth the exorbitant prices listed on the menu.  And since both my husband and I have been students for a majority of our adult lives, we've always viewed going out to eat as a Special Treat that we have to save up for and/or use a coupon to be able to comfortably afford (and thus enjoy).  Obviously, these two facts don't really go hand in hand, so I've found a way to make them work together: copycat recipes.  Nine times out of ten, when I go to a restaurant I come out able to recreate both my and Mr. N's entrees and the appetizers, and, nine times out of ten, I come home and test my skillz.  The recipe I'm sharing today is one I've enjoyed for years now, but is also one I've felt guilty about spending around $10 on for equally as many years: Panera Bread's "Sierra Turkey" sandwich