Say Cheese, Part Two January 31, 2011

So, the whole reason I started blogging about cheese the other day (ok, month) was to get to this point… my favorite cheeses as of late. And, no, neither of them are of the American cheese variety. I like to think I’ve graduated from my days of American cheese and Miracle Whip sandwiches. Hey. Don’t judge. They are really good when you kick it up a gourmet notch and sprinkle a little dill weed on them and nuke ’em for 15 seconds!
Clearly, Julia Child I am not. Okay, so the first cheese I’m just ga-ga over is this one… 

Hello Halloumi!

Halloumi is a Greek (specifically Cypriot) cheese that first piqued my interest when Hubby and I  went to Cyprus.  It was like no other cheese I’d tried before.  Lovingly referred to as, “squeeky cheese” – this cheese is served fried.  It’s not gooey and melt-y like a mozarella.  Instead it stubbornly maintains it’s shape until the gnashing of your teeth tears it apart – hence making a squeeking sound, kind of like rubbing your finger against Tupperware.  The real deal Halloumi (not the mass-produced stuff) is a mixture of sheep and goat milks and is pretty darn salty.  Wikipedia incorrectly compares it to mozarella, but it is nothing like the stuff.  Halloumi is excellent with any sort of melon and cracker combination.  I absolutely LOVE the stuff, but try only to have it when I want to feel like I went on a vacation but can’t leave the house.  Halloumi is available at any of the higher end grocery stores, but be sure to look for the kind without cow’s milk… those have been mass produced and are not the real thing.

The next cheese I’m just nuts over these days is an Argentinian Parmesan Reggianito. 

Argentinian Parmesan - A must have for your fridge!

I don’t know what my latest obsession with all things Argentinian is, but I’ve found the quality of their food and drink to be phenomenal!  (The drink I’m crazy about is the Argentinian blended red wine called Tupengato.  We ordered two cases for co-worker Christmas presents and consumed a few bottles ourselves.  Wow!  It’s a spicier red that is best consumed with heavy dishes such as a meat lasagna or a tandoori.)  At any rate, what I love about this Parm is that it’s made from cow’s milk which gives it a much more mild taste.  I suppose technically it’s still Italian, as it was brought to Argentina in the early 1900s by Italian immigrants – but who cares really.  It’s taste and granular texture are phenomenal!  Try grating over pretty much any pasta dish, regardless if it’s a red, white or green sauce.  And it’s excellent on salads made with “Spring Mix” lettuces or just tossed in with some wilted arugula.  Heaven on Earth!

I encourage you to take a Saturday or Sunday afternoon and pay a visit to your local cheese shop  – or at the very least the specialty cheese section of your area’s best grocery store – and ask to taste anything that looks interesting.  I promise you will be very surprised how cheese obsessed you can quickly become!

Say Cheese! (Part 1, because I got a little off track) November 30, 2010

There are few things I have consistently loved throughout my life.  But one, one thing in particular, has been a true love since we first met.

I’m talking about cheese.

I have loved cheese without fail, through good times and bad, through food poisoning and health, always and forever, amen.

And I’ve gone through very intense cheese phases thoroughout my life.

It all started with American cheese. 

Yummy yellow stuff

The processed yellowish-orangey stuff technically isn’t cheese… at least in the legal sense.  It used to be cheese, but not anymore.  Confused?  Well, allow me to take you on a historical sidebar.

One of the main exports of the British colonists shortly after arriving in America was cheddar.  This cheddar was referred to by Europeans as “American Cheese.”  It was considered inferior to European cheeses, though if it was indeed inferior, I don’t think anyone cared because it sure tasted good – as indicated by export figures.  In the late 1800’s, American cheese exports totaled 355 million pounds per year.  (Couldn’t have been all that inferior!)  Fast-forward to the wartime era of 1942 and, perhaps the most bizarre, and therefore shortest, ban was imposed on the American public.  On May 4th, 1942, the government banned the sale and consumption of any other cheese EXCEPT American cheese!  The govt’s reasoning was some kind of weird, misguided attempt to bolster American pride; but it probably had a little something more to do with keeping American dollars within US borders.  Americans were not and are not exactly known for their love of restriction, especially when it comes to what they can eat so, obviously, this ban irritated not only Americans, but other exporting countries that were our close allies during the war (namely our best friend, Great Britain).  The ban was quickly and quietly reversed on August 1st, 1942.  

Who knew American cheese had such a history?   

But what we know now as American cheese is not that cheddar (or cheddar and colby blend) once exported by early colonists.  Technically and legally, American cheese is not cheese.  It’s “cheese analogue.”  I kid you not.  (Note:  Over the course of time, American cheese has also been called factory cheese, rat cheese, rattrap cheese, yellow cheese and store cheese.)  Manufacturers presently get away with labeling it “processed cheese” because it does have some whey and milk in it, but what we know now as that gloriously gooey stuff is also loaded with salt, food coloring, preservatives and a host of other things to make it prettier, longer.    

But perhaps my favorite of favorite weird facts about American cheese is the manner with which those individually wrapped slices are prepared.  The cheese is actually poured into each and every wrapper and then set to emulsify!!  That is just nuts!  (And is a process I must see before I die.)

So, I got way off track from how I intended this post to go.  But who could blame me?  What started as a quick internet image search for a photo of American cheese led me down a fairly fascinating path that was worthy of sharing.

Sorry all you lactose intolerant friends, but my next post will also be on the topic of cheese and I will finally get around to my original purpose of blogging this… which, PS,  was to tell you about two of my favorite cheeses which you must try before you die.  Hmmm… maybe “Try Before You Die” will have to become a regular thing on this blog…

Red, red wine November 29, 2010

Gasp!  I did not make anything for Thanksgiving dinner!

Ok, well, let me clarify that.  I did not hostess dinner at my house like I thought I would end up doing.  But no.  I was not so lucky.  Thanksgiving was spent at my husband’s grandmothers house.  And then my mother-in-law hostessed the day after Turkey Day at her house.

However, I just couldn’t let the holiday season go by without making something!  That would’ve been just ridiculous!  So I convinced my MIL to (please, please, please) allow me to bring some kind of something along.  She asked I bring my bread… an oregano boule that takes a total of 22 hours to make from beginning to end.  I did so and, as always, it came out super yummy.  I also made my green bean casserole… you know, the traditional one that’s topped with fried onions.  Seriously.  That’s so basic, I don’t even consider it “cooking.”

But, I’d like to take advantage of this post by putting something out there that you may want to make to accompany your next round of holiday meals… a classic red wine reduction that goes B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L-L-Y with beef tenderloin.  (Note:  Beef tenderloin is a VERY expensive cut of meat.  This rich reduction compliments it nicely, but can also be used with pretty much any cut of red meat.)

Red Wine Reduction

 2 Tbsp olive oil

1 large carrot, chopped

1 stalk celery, chopped

½ of a large shallot, chopped

1 clove garlic, diced

2 Tbsp tomato paste

2 cups red wine (cheap merlot is fine)

2 cups beef broth

1 bay leaf

2-3 springs thyme

Heat oil in large pot, then add in carrot, celery, and shallot and sauté for five minutes.  Add in garlic and sauté for another two minutes.  Add in tomato paste, wine and beef broth and mix well (de-clump tomato paste).  Add in bay leaf and thyme and simmer for 40 minutes.  Remove from heat and strain with a fine mesh strainer into a bowl.

Best over beef tenderloin & mashed potatoes.  (For a 2.5 lb tenderloin… roast uncovered at 425 degrees… 30 minutes for medium rare; 45 minutes for medium.  Let meat rest for 10 minutes before slicing and serving.)

 Enjoy!  And don’t forget to invite me over!

I cried over pasta November 22, 2010

I’m not afraid to admit it.  I cried over pasta this weekend.  Hormonal much lately?

So, more on that in a minute.

But… my latest and greatest purchase from Bed, Bath and Beyond?

Drumroll please!!!

A Weston Pasta Machine!

 

Ta da! 

I bought myself a pasta machine.  And, yes, I am well aware of how ridiculous it is in this day and age it is to actually, physically make your own pasta from scratch.  But I just could not die without ever having made it.

Yes, that’s pretty much how I live my life.  “If I died without ever doing (fill in the blank), would I be okay with it?”  Somehow, in a twisted way, that philosophy has made it into my kitchen.  And is pretty much the “why” behind the “what” when I walk in the door with some new piece of kitchen equipment.  Which happens more frequently than I’m willing to admit publically. 

I just had to show it again...

 

Isn’t it a thing of beauty?

So I awakened Sunday morning beyond excited to try making pasta.  I spent the weeknights researching all different sorts of pasta recipes, tricks and tips, hints from the pros, reading ingredients, learning about semolina flour, and the list goes on.  I finally decided on a recipe that uses a blend of semolina and all-purpose flour and added in some olive oil for good measure, as well as the typical eggs and salt.  (Please note:  hard core pasta people clearly state that real pasta has only three ingredients… flour, salt, and eggs.  Whatever.  That just seemed too easy.)

But it was still morning and I didn’t really need to start making the pasta until we were about two hours out from eating dinner.

So I consulted several cookbooks and decided to make a marinara sauce because, well, I had some crushed San Marzano tomatoes on hand that were begging to be consumed.  (San Marzano makes the best canned tomatoes and can be purchased at Whole Foods.  Good luck trying to find them at any ol’ grocery store.  Pish-posh.)  I used one of Giada’s recipes for marinara, but it’s not even worth posting the link because, well, it sucked.  Here I made a huge batch of sauce with the highest of hopes and my taste tester (aka hubby) said, “Hmmm.  It’s good!  No…  Wait…  It’s got a funny aftertaste.”  I agreed, so into the garbage it went.  And being that I hate wasting food, that nearly devastated me.

But I marched on.

And made pesto! (click me for the recipe)

See?

Before blending...

 

...After blending.

And it was really good.  Really, really good.  So, into the fridge it went and waited to be used on the pasta that was to be.

Total sidebar here.  For those of you who may picture me cooking in the kitchen with a lovely soundtrack of jazz or opera or something else playing in the background, please allow me to shatter that image.  

Never in my life have I ever been so sick of a videogame.  On principal alone, I just plain hate videogames.  I think they make create lazy zombie children.  But we have a Wii which, for most games,  requires you to physically move around.  So, I made an exception when we received a Wii for Christmas two years ago and was actually very excited about it.  Until the hubby purchased a certain game recently. 

So… I made my sauces on Sunday morning surrounded by the sound of rapid-fire gunshots.  Ah, the Cabelas hunting game.  How I hate you.

Stupid videogame!

Anywho…  Fast forwarding to the pasta.

I made this recipe (click me) and, other than having to add in three additional TBSP of water and two additional TBSP of oil to the dough while kneading it, the whole thing turned out really good.

See?

Gorgeous, golden noodles - I love thee!

 

Except.

And there’s always an “except” when I’m cooking.

Argh!  I should’ve gone thinner on the fettucine.  For those of you who don’t know, pasta machines have settings on the rollers which allow you to control the thickness of the dough.  On my machine, the thickest dough is rolled on a setting of 7.  I eventually worked it down to a level of 4, thinking that would definitely be thin enough for fettucine.  After the noodles plumped slightly during cooking, I realized I should’ve used a setting of 2, or maybe even 1.  Here I made about two pounds of pasta which was just too thick.

Additionally, we added a little alfredo to the pesto sauce to make it a little more kid-friendly and, well, it was still too garlicky for them.

Cue the tears.  (Not the kids.  Me.)

After having a bad start with the marinara sauce in the morning, ruining the pesto, and making the noodles too thick, the tears just started to well up.  I simpered and sniffled and tried to quietly have my pity party for one.  But then Hubby walked into the kitchen and hugged me, told me not to give up, and promised to help me make pasta again next weekend.  Same recipe, thinner machine setting, perhaps using jarred sauce to minimize the effort.  I licked my wounds, cleaned up the dishes and got over myself.

After literally hours of effort in the kitchen, slaving over sauces and pasta, dinner ended up in the garbage.  What can I say?  You can’t win ‘em all.  I’ll give it another go and will eventually get it right. 

Because, Lord help me, I cannot die until I make the perfect fresh pasta.

Bean Spread on a Saturday Morning November 20, 2010

I know.  I know.  I have left several of you in suspense as to what my latest and greatest purchase from Bed, Bath and Beyond was… and I told you on Thursday that I’d share on Friday.  And now I’m asking you to hang in there til Monday.  You’ll understand why.

What’s way more interesting is a new goal I have.  Each Monday I will post a new recipe I’ve tried (probably over the weekend), complete with comments and hopefully a few tacky, amateur photos.  Just to warm up a little, I want to share with you a white bean spread recipe that was to-die-for when I slapped it on some bagel chips.  (Please note, I hate beans – so it says something that I’m featuring this recipe.)

 

WHITE BEAN SPREAD

1 – 15oz. can cannellini beans, rinsed and drained

1 tbsp lemon juice

1 clove garlic, minced

1/2 tsp kosher salt

1/8 tsp fresh ground pepper

1.5 tbsp evoo

Blend all ingredients, except evoo, in a food processor – occasionally stopping to push the food down from the edges.  Then slowly drizzle the evoo in while the mixture is blending.  (You will see the consistency change slightly… it will increase in volume and will appear slightly more fluffy.)  Refrigerate if not used immediately.

This recipe was inspired by a similar one created by Giada DiLaurentiis.

This is awesome on either pita chips or bagel chips.  We had it on Thomas’s Everything On It Bagel Chips (bread section of the SuperWalMart).  I topped it with a chiffonade of fresh basil and it was fantastic!  The baby, my six year old son, and my hubby dug right in and devoured what – unseen and untested – they probably assumed they’d hate.  I know “bean spread” doesn’t exactly fire up my tastebuds… but I sure love surprises – and this was a good one!

I have decided… November 19, 2010

… that the level of seriousness of a home cook is directly related to the number of different flours and salts they have on hand.

It’s also inversely proportionate to the (lack of) social activities in their lives… because they’d obviously rather be home cooking.

I have five different types of salt and four different types of flour presently on hand. 

That should tell you about the (lack of) my social life.

And I’m completely fine with that!  😉

Dreams really do come true – and not just at Disneyland! November 18, 2010

I was all ready this morning to write about my latest and greatest purchase from the kitchen section of Bed, Bath and Beyond, but I’ll be saving that for tomorrow’s post because, omagosh, I stumbled upon something that caused my heart to stop this a.m. and, therefore, is blogworthy.

But, a little background first.  Back in August, TaNK and I flew back East for a family wedding.  We linked up with Juice (my sister), and my mom and dad for a “five states in five days family fun vacation.”  And, indeed, it was a fun vacation to remember.  One of the stops we made was in northern New Jersey to see my Uncle Bobby – who I haven’t seen in nine years or so.  I’ve always known he was “into” cooking, but was downright flabbergasted when he set out a Henckel knife for us to use to casually make turkey sandwiches for lunch.  (By the way, that’s the equivalent of giving a toddler a glass of juice in your finest crystal goblet and letting them run helter-skelter throughout the Louvre.) Needless to say, when I saw a certain family member who shall remain nameless use the knife to cut a sandwich directly on the plate, I cringed as the knife cut through with ease and ssssccccrrraaaapppeeeddd along the plate.  My Uncle Bobby had a newfound respect for me when I gave a brief dissertation to the family on why you don’t treat a Henckel that way.  Admittedly, a year ago I would’ve been right there cutting on the plate too, though. 

So, just before we left Uncle Bobby’s house, I noticed he has a fairly extensive collection of top-notch cookbooks.  He surprised me when I asked him to show me his all-time favorite, most frequently used cookbook.  I was expecting something classic like Julia Child, Alice Waters, Jacques Pepin, the Galloping Gourmet, etc.  Holy bells!  He immediately pulled out a Giada DiLaurentiis cookbook from 2005!

Really?  Giada DiLaurentiis?  As in the one chef on Food Network I can’t stand and never, ever watch because it’s so blatantly obvious they gave her a show only because she’s beautiful and her grandfather is famous?

I hate eating my words.

And that’s exactly what I did when he started thumbing through the pages, showing me notes in the margins of several recipes.  He had tweaked a few things here and there, but said that on-the-whole, her recipes were outstanding.  And this from a man who is so hard-core that it’s nothing for him to set out Henckels for turkey sandwiches!  That is a man I will trust when it comes to preferred cookbooks!

Yes, there’s a point to me sharing all of this.

So, since August, I’ve been dying to get my stubs on a copy of that cookbook.  You can find them anywhere, but this purchase had to be on my terms.  First, it had to be on sale.  Second, months later, I had to still be as interested in purchasing this cookbook as I was when Uncle Bobby first showed it to me.  Third and finally, I had to actually watch Giada on Food Network and the Cooking Channel to see if her style truly suited me.  Turns out she’s not just a pretty face.  Girlfriend knows what she’s doing (although I grind my teeth when she uses the blade of her knife to scoop things off her cutting board – so bad on many levels and is a violation of Culinary 101!).  Her recipes are shockingly simple and major crowd pleasers – and are WAY better than anything of Rachel Ray’s.  So, I wanted me that cookbook.

And today, at Barnes & Noble, at 9:45am… a girls’ dream came true!

My heart literally stopped and I sucked in a sharp breath when, low and behold, on the 50% off table, I spied…

Manna from heaven!

And a bonus book!

Thank you, hubby!  You just bought me my Christmas gift a little early!

Forays Into Fish November 17, 2010

In our house, Tuesday is Fish Night.  Now before you go thinking I’m all kinds of crazy about designating “nights,” I must explain that Tuesday is Fish Night for only one reason… Wednesday morning is when our garbage is picked up.  So because I’m all about not pulling into the garage and being smacked in the face by the smell of decayed sea creatures, Tuesday is Fish Night.  And all is right in the world.

 I just started this routine this summer, so we are definitely still in the experimental phase of trying fish.  To my credit, I started the family off slow.

So unhealthy, yet so good!

The fam devoured them in one sitting.  Even the baby L-O-V-E-D her some fish!  I’m now a pro at baking frozen fish filets.  (REALLY OBVIOUS BUT HELPFUL) TIP – You MUST turn them halfway through cooking and they should be cooked on a cooling rack sitting on a baking sheet.  Yum, yum! 

Not to my credit, I then zipped us right to the front of the experimental line and started making fresh sole filets – sometimes breaded, sometimes poached in butter.  Hubby really liked the breaded sole, but it is such a ridiculously delicate fish to bread and pan fry.  ANOTHER REALLY OBVIOUS BUT HELPFUL TIP – Sole, being as flaky as it is, should really just be broiled very, very quickly… like for a minute to three minutes depending on the thickness of your cut.

So I’ve been feeling pretty confident and happy with our forays into fish, until…

We, as a family, went into Whole Foods.

We walked by the seafood department which, of course, my son has a morbid fascination with.  He’ll race to that section of the store and stare a dead fish right in the eye until we literally drag him away.  Yes, it’s admittedly weird, but judge me not.  At least he’s quiet and happy.  In fact, my cure-all for a cranky kid on the verge of a meltdown in any grocery store is the seafood department.  And I’m not ashamed to admit it.  (Note:  Since WalMart Superstores no longer have a seafood department, the deli with all its free samples works just as well.  Jus’ sayin’.)

So we’re standing there looking at all the displays of beautiful fish when Hubby spies a pre-breaded halibut steak.

“Maybe you should get that next time.”

I was shocked.  “What?”

“Maybe you should get that the next time we have fish.”

“Is my sole not good?”

“No.  I’m just saying the halibut that’s already been breaded looks good.”

I stammered.  “But, but, but… that’s CHEATING!” I cried.

Let’s just stop here.  Okay, yes, I realize I’m being ridiculous. But buying fresh fish that is already breaded is cheating!  You mean to tell me you don’t have five minutes to bread your own fish?  (Gordon’s frozen fish filets are excluded from this argument because there is simply no possible way to get that kind of yummy, crispy, thick coating on a fish by means of anything a reasonable person would have in their kitchen.  Therefore, ergo, that kind of cheating is okay – pretty much because it tastes so freakin’ good.  And because I say so.)

It took me over a week to mentally get over that hurdle and finally go buy the damn breaded halibut. 

Which I did. 

Yesterday. 

Pan seared, then baked  = delish!

I’ve already got my eye on the stuffed salmon for next Tuesday…

My absence was an indicator… November 16, 2010

…that my life had gotten a little too hectic.  So, I’ve scaled back.  Waaaaay back.  And I’m so happy I did.

So, when was the last time I wrote?  Oh yeah… just as summer began.  Wow.  With hubby’s new role in the military and all the insane summer activities, I let my blog slide.  Ok.  I let it slide into the abyss of complete and utter negligence.  But that’s not the point here, folks.  Let’s focus on what I’m doing about it now.

I am slowly reprioritizing my life.  And, as such, I am finding happiness in the little things.  So, to catch you up to speed, the following is what I have been up to:

1.  I cut my hours back at work.  I’m now working a little more than part time, but my schedule is totally and utterly centered around Tank’s school schedule.  If I hadn’t done that, he would’ve literally had to sit in the cafeteria for more than two hours before school even started.  And the before-school program involves a bunch of teenagers “supervising” the kids while they sit at the lunch tables just waiting for school to start.  No thank you.  Not my kid.  Instead, I scaled back on my hours and not only do Tank and I get to play on the playground every day before school starts, but C-belle spends 3.5 hours less in daycare each day.  She be happy = we be happy.  (Please note: swinging on elementary school swings each morning is 1, a really upbeat way to start the workday and, 2, a not-so-gentle reminder from God to be aware of the negative effects of overindulging in ice cream late at night.)

2. I’ve turned my passion into an obsession.  I love to cook.  I mean, I REALLY love to cook.  Since completing my culinary classes at a local cooking school, I have been experimenting non-stop.  This is my latest experiment…

A beautiful first attempt at bread!

I’ve had huge successes lately with beef tenderloin – which, PS, a 2.5 lb tenderloin will cost you $66.67… I found that out the hard way.  But holy cow (literally), that was some good beef!

3.  I’m not freaking out about the little things.  Laundry, grocery shopping and house cleaning get done when they get done.  You gotta problem wit dat?  Talk to management, ’cause I’m no longer on the hyper-freak-out train.  Damn it feels good!

So, all that being said… I am also back to blogging.  It makes me happy… like somewhere in the annals of time, my life is being recorded so that some day my children can stumble upon it during a random internet search in the year 2030 and realize that Mommy was cool… back in the day… somewhat.

It’s good to be back, people!!

Awwwww yeah…! June 14, 2010

I am finally back to posting once again… teeball season is over and I am so done being the Team Mom.  It was worth it, but I am SO done.

The Proudest Giant

And what better way to kick off the re-blogging than with a little fun story about my morning…

DATELINE – THIS A.M.

I was upstairs changing C-belle (note: “Cricket” just never really stuck) and was watching her quietly enjoy her bottle while I changed her diaper when I heard the most odd noise downstairs, followed by, “MOM!!!!  MOM?????!!!!”  It was the five year old.

Now, everyone knows the severity of an emergency is clearly linked to the decibel level of your name as it’s yelled by your children.

“MOM????!!!!”

I scooped C-belle off the changing table and quickly went downstairs, fearful of what I was about to see as soon as I rounded the corner.  As a mom you first look for blood. 

I looked from a distance. 

No blood.

Tank was sitting at the kitchen table with his arms outstretched, but still as a manequin.  His mouth moved and that’s when I noticed… both his face and the table had little lumps all over.

“Mom?!  I SNEEZED an’ my mouf was full of Cheerios!” 

PAUSE

“I tried to hold my nose so I didn’t sneeze!!”

He was about to start crying.

Oh child.  Oh, dear sweet child.

All I could manage to do is start laughing.  Which, thank GOD, made him start laughing too.

The poor child effectively and efficiently sprayed himself, the blanket I had wrapped him in, his dress clothes for the day and the kitchen table.  It took several paper towels and a good bit of Windex, but we cleaned everything up pretty quickly.

And so began the week…

Thank you, Tank, for giving me some blogging material…