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.

three hundred and nineteen

"Now that September is nigh, relief from the insanity of summer is in sight.  Kids go back to school, vacations cease, and life gets back to normal until the seemingly just around the corner winter holiday season.  Assuming you’re not Jewish, that is.  And if you are Jewish, getting the kids to school on time is the last thing on your mind, because you know that September is the beginning of what feels like a month of constant holidays..."

 Read the rest of the post "Homemade Challah" at Home Ec 101.

three hundred and two

One of the things that I am looking forward to most about moving back to DC metro area is the awesomeness that is known as the Lancaster County Dutch Market.  It's your standard issue Lancaster County, PA market with a slight twist: it's in Montgomery County, MD.  In the middle of the week, a group of Mennonite families pack into vans and ship a little taste of Lancaster County to the suburban yuppies willing to pay extreme markup for the privilege.  And, of course, among the highfalutin yuppies were Mr N and I.

Whenever we could afford it, we would walk down the street and gorge ourselves on the best fried chicken in the world, free cheese samples, spit roasted rabbit, and the best pretzels in the whole wide world.  In fact, the pretzels are something I miss (nearly) as much as our friends!  Since they're apparently like friends to me, I reasoned, why not invite them for a visit?  I set out to make a replica of the pretzels and quickly ran into an obstacle: Cooper cheese.

Wait, what?  Cheese?  I wasn't making just any pretzel (you should know by now that I'm more picky than that).  I was making my favorite pretzel, one that that just so happens to be Lancaster County's answer to the Hot Pocket: a pretzel stuffed with roast beef and Cooper cheese.  There are other fillings, but none are able to top the seasoned, juicy (fresh!) roast beef and ever so slightly tangy, melty-enough-to-put-Kraft-out-of-business cheese.  I refused to try any other kind of cheese because, well, I'm stubborn.

The above is why I may have actually cheered when I found Cooper cheese, presliced in the deli no less, at Wegmans the other week.  The above may also be why I immediately set to making (and eating) a copycat Lancaster County Dutch Market stuffed pretzel.  (And some plain ones, too, but those are boring when you have roast beef and Cooper cheese to eat.)  Now I'm going to do what Amish and Mennonite women have done for years: share the love.

three hundred

"I’m not a fan of summer; it’s hot, sticky, and—for someone as pale as I—sunburny.  I spend most of the summer indoors, hoping for a cloudy day.  For reasons probably related to my aversion to summer, I long ago decided that August is, in fact, autumn.  And what does autumn mean?  Soup, of course!  Every year, I spend my late summer early autumn days making and consuming vats of soup.  In the first week of my imagined autumn, I have already jumped into preparing my favorite soup: French onion."

Read the rest of the post "French Onion Soup" at Home Ec 101.

P.S.  Holy guacamole!  300 posts!  I may need to reconsider my post naming system before I hit one thousand...

two hundred and ninety-five

"If you’ve ever made your own creamy salad dressings from scratch, you may have been shocked by the inclusion of up to a cup of store-bought, chemical filled mayonnaise.  Since when does a 'from scratch' recipe call for 'sauce from a jar'?  Moreover, can a salad dressing, potato salad, or tuna sandwich qualify as 'fresh' or 'homemade' when the main ingredients, eggs and all, can sit on the shelf for years before expiring?  I’m no whole food purist (I’ve even been known to employ a well placed can of Tex Mex tomatoes) but in my opinion, store bought mayonnaise is on the same level as Miracle Whip.  No hate for you Whip lovers, but this post is about real mayonnaise..."

Read the rest of the post "Homemade Mayonnaise" on Home Ec 101.

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 eighty

One of my favorite things in the world is hot chocolate with marshmallows.  Unfortunately, it's been around 100 degrees here in the NYC Metro area for the last week or so which means that any cravings for hot cocoa have been thrown out the window.  I know I can't be alone in my cravings for a chocolatey, marshmallowy treat, so I set out to make a recipe for a summer-friendly frozen "hot" cocoa.

Frozen Hot Cocoa

• 4 cups real chocolate milk (not the stuff made from water and HFCS)
• 1-14 ounce can sweetened condensed milk
• 1 cup heavy cream, whipped
• 2 packets of "marshmallow lover's" hot cocoa mix

1. In a large bowl, combine the chocolate milk, sweetened condensed milk, and hot cocoa mix without the marshmallows.
2. Carefully fold the whipped cream into the chocolate milk mixture, making sure not to deflate the whipped cream too much.  (Protip: Whisk in half of the whipped cream, then fold in the second half.  It's easier than folding in the whole batch of whipped cream!)
3. Assemble your ice cream maker and turn it on.  With the machine running, pour the unfrozen cocoa into the ice cream maker's bowl.  (You may need to do this in two batches if you have a small machine.  If so, just refrigerate the remaining unfrozen cocoa until you're ready to use it.)  Churn for 20-30 minutes, or until the cocoa has frozen and the machine begins to struggle.
4. Pour or spoon the frozen cocoa into four giant glasses.  Top each glass of frozen cocoa with a sprinkling of the marshmallows from the cocoa mix.  Serve immediately.

Serves 4 hungry grown-up cocoa lovers (or 8-10 kids).

two hundred and seventy-seven

"I’m sure most of you would agree with me if I said that nothing is tastier than an ice cream sandwich on a hot summer’s day.  It’s cold, it’s creamy, and it conjures up memories of childhood summers spent chasing down the ice cream man.  Despite its deliciousness, however, I’m often wishing for a cake by the end of summer… Maybe with a scoop of ice cream?..."

Read the rest of the post "Homemade Ice Cream Sandwiches" on Home Ec 101.

two hundred and seventy-one

Though I prefer homemade foods and meals, there are a couple of tasty things that come in packets--like butter curry mix.  I mix the paste with melted butter, coat the chicken in it, and cook until the chicken is cooked, then I top the whole thing off by adding water and making a pot of basmati rice.  Complex?  Hardly.  Delicious?  Yes.  As a housewife, however, I can't make a meal-in-a-box without feeling like a bum.  In most cases I would make bread or dessert, but for years naan was one of those breads that was easier and tastier to buy.  Finally, after much experimentation I realized I had tweaked my recipe and techniques enough to produce something pretty darn close to the naan I get from the local Indian restaurants without a tandoor.

P.S.  The unrisen dough can be frozen for up to a month.  The morning of the day you plan to bake the naan, place the frozen dough in a greased bowl at room temperature.  By dinner time, it will be risen and you'll be ready to start at step 4.

two hundred and sixty-eight

"Have you ever had a popover?  If you haven’t, you’re missing out on one of my all-time favorite sides for a Sunday roast.  Crispy and crunchy outside with an airy inside, popovers are the perfect utensil for transporting gravy from plate to mouth.  Like Yorkshire puddings without the pan drippings, popovers are simple to make with five ingredients you probably already have in the house—or seven if you’re a fan of pepper and Parmesan cheese.  And no, you don’t need some fancy schmancy popover pan.  The most difficult part of this recipe is keeping yourself from peeking on them during the baking process!  (Seriously, don’t open the oven until 30 minutes into baking.  Deliciously good things come to those who wait...)"

Read the rest of the post "Popovers in a Muffin Tin" at Home Ec 101.

two hundred and sixty-three

Remember last Friday when I said I'd share my recipe for fried chicken with you this week?  Weeeell, I ended up feeling really terrible this weekend, so Mr N and I opted to get fried chicken from the KFC ripoff down the street.  Despite the sides being prepackaged and terrible, the chicken was hot and crispy.  It hit the spot, even though it wasn't as good as mine.  Unfortunately, the okay-ish chicken left me with the problem of not knowing which recipe to share with you today!  I looked at my menu plan and didn't see anything I hadn't shared before: black bean soup; penne with sausage, peppers, and onions; ginger chicken and green beans; homemade "Sierra Turkey" sandwi----wait a second!

P.S.  In case you can't tell, I've been playing with my recipe formatting in order to make my Dreams Unreal recipes as well laid out as my Home Ec 101 recipes.  So....  How do you like it?  Is it easier to understand?  Click through, check it out, and let me know!

two hundred and fifty-nine

"During my freshman year of college, I was required to live in a dorm.  It was the most miserable experience of my life, not because I had a terrible roommate, but because I couldn’t cook or bake without having to use the communal kitchen (which meant I had to share with whoever walked by and said “mmmm”).  I told myself that I would survive that year with nary a cookie to be had, but less than a month passed before I heard about the wonders of the bakery less than 30 yards from my front door..."

Read the rest of the post "Basic Scone Recipe" at Home Ec 101.

two hundred and fifty

When I stepped out the door to walk my husband to the train station this morning, I was practically punched in the face by my least favorite season.  When I left the climate controlled lobby of my apartment building, the rush of heat and humidity was enough to cause me to stagger backwards as my asthmatic lungs struggled to convert themselves into gills to process the aqueous air.  Okay, I'm being a little bit facetious, but the high on this lovely May day was 93 degrees.  Blech.

I know that June is just around the corner, but I had honestly expected another few weeks before I was facing temperatures in the nineties!  If you've read my posts from last summer, you know that I simply don't like the season.  The heat, the sunburns that I get despite wearing sunscreen, the fact that I have to run the air conditioner.  Those are a few of the things that I dislike about this time of year, but the number one culprit is the stove.  The heat of my gas stove combined with the outside temperatures leave me with zero interest in cooking, let alone eating, hot food.

The obvious solution to my problem would be to spend all summer doing that hip raw food thing, but I'm far too unhip to be able to survive on cold food alone.  The slow cooker is a help, but there are only so many slow cooked roasts that one can eat without getting bored.  So, what does that leave us for meal options?  Simple: one pot meals--and we're not talking Hamburger Helper here.

two hundred and forty-nine

"I don’t know about you, but late spring and early summer are not exactly my favorite times warm up the house by using the oven. Since I’m often too cheap to turn on the air conditioning, I tend to relegate my summer baking time to the necessities. Unfortunately, my stomach doesn’t often get the memo and decides that it wants, say, a soufflé when it’s 90 degrees outside. Even more unfortunately, my tummy is in charge of my mood, so what it wants, it gets. Dutifully, I’ll throw together a half-hearted soufflé and call it a day. In the end, my belly is happy that it got its way, but the rest of me is just too hot to enjoy the darn thing..."

Read the rest of the post "Let There Be Lemon Cookies" at Home Ec 101.

P.S.  FYI, you can totally freeze that.

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 forty-one

Growing up in a vegetarian household, I didn't really "get" the love that many Americans profess for burgers.  Though tasty enough, they were mostly just vehicles for enabling mass consumption of cheese.  (Land'o'Lakes American, thank you very much.)  Then, as most of my stories go, I met my husband.  The second the weather began to warm for the year, my father in law would go into a primal trance and spend every weekend manning the grill producing enough meat for every man, woman, and child within smelling distance.  At first, all of that grilled meat was kind of off putting, but it wasn't long before I was sitting at my mother in law's kitchen table and making towers of burger patties for whatever gathering was happening that weekend.

Though I still consider the cheese a highlight of a burger, I now appreciate the patty's charred outside and juicy inside about as much as I appreciate a good steak.  Even more than the taste, I appreciate the frugality of a homemade semi-gourmet burger, so I try to make them at least once a month in the summer.  I bake challah rolls, think up interesting mayonnaise flavors, and try to work out a mathematical equation to calculate the maximum number of different toppings any given burger can hold (that number is known as the MTR or Maximum Topping Ratio).  Usually, it's great.  Sometimes, meh.  Rarely, a choir of angels having a rave in my mouth.

The burger I'm about to share with you is one of those angel raves, therefore I recommend you make it as soon as possible.  Preferably yesterday.  (Make extra patties for lunch, too.)  Oh, and not having a grill is no excuse; this recipe is apartment-friendly.

two hundred and thirty-seven

Growing up, I didn't eat fast food very often.  My car-having friends, on the other hand, would usually stop and get something to eat on the way home from school.  Since I was in the car I got to be the little bird that stole a chip or two while they weren't looking.  No one minded and it would have been a perfect system had I not developed a taste for some of those greasy eats.  Now that I'm doing the "adult" thing, I can run to McDonalds and get a Big Mac should I feel so inclined--which I do once or twice a year (usually when on a road trip)--but the frustration known as the "regional chain" doesn't always allow for fulfillment of my random cravings for, say, Zaxby's.

Zaxby's is a Southern chicken semi-sit down restaurant (the kind where you order, sit, and then have your food brought to you) that would be unremarkable without one thing: Zax Sauce.  A mix of mayonnaise, ketchup, and a couple of other things, it is capable of making the most boring of chicken strips into an experience.  Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little bit, but if I am it's not by much.  I can't buy the Zax Sauce in the South and smuggle it home in my luggage since the little containers say to "keep refrigerated" (ahem).  This predicament has left me with only one solution: restaurant recipe rip off!

two hundred and thirty-six

(Today's quick tip and menu plan are after the jump.)

 "I’ll never forget the first time my childhood friend showed me how to make one of her favorite treats.  The recipe was simple: one piece of white bread, squished and squeezed into a compact ball.  It was kind of like a bread bonbon, and the thought of it horrified me immensely.  You see, I grew up eating sprouted wheat bread—the kind that can lead a child’s mind to wonder about the possibility of those seeds sprouting further during the digestion process—and it most certainly did not squish.  It crumbled."

Read the rest of the post "Hearty White Sandwich Bread" at Home Ec 101.

two hundred and twenty-seven

"Ramen. It’s a single word that conjures images of students and young newlyweds alike, united by their grumbling bellies and meager budgets.  Most of us have been there, done that—myself included—and if you’re anything like me, you may have also done a happy dance when you finally said sayonara to your noodle heavy twenty dollar a week food budget.  Despite my longstanding eagerness to eat something (anything!) other than what the Japanese refer to as gakusei ryori, or “student food”, years later I still find myself craving the salty, slurpy soup that got me through the leanest times in my life..."

Read the rest of the post "Pork and Miso Ramen" at Home Ec 101.

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.)