Author: laura k

Saturday Morning at the Brewery

Mini beer

Since the last time I took the Sam Adams Brewery tour, here in JP, it’s gotten a few write ups, become more popular, and been revamped a bit, formalized and fancified just a little. No more standing in puddles of beer and water while someone yelled about beer makin’ over the clanging sounds of, well, beer makin’. Now they have a special presentation area, and microphones, and…alright, it wasn’t really too different from the past, it’s only been polished a tiny bit more. It is still an especially excellent reason to come out to JP.   Continue reading Saturday Morning at the Brewery

The Ubiquitous No-Knead Bread

The Bread

Yes, yes, yes, everyone and their mother has made the Jim Lahey/Mark Bittman No-Knead Bread. Everyone has written about it. I have already made the bread three times, so what the hell am I writing about it now for? Well, because I didn’t write about it before. I didn’t even have a food blog when the recipe was making the rounds, and I think we’ve already covered that I’m a bit of a joiner.

What’s bumming me out now, though, is the stupid New York Times. I know Mark Bittman wrote a follow up article, full of tips and hints and changes he’d heard from other cooks around the world. I read it weeks ago, but because my mind is a sieve, I couldn’t remember what any of those tips and hints were. And the New York Times wants me to pay $5 for the privilege of reading it again! Those bastards. I am not paying $5 to read it again. Does anyone remember any of those tips and changes? I’m sure I could spend some time scouring the interwebs, but it would be nice if I had them all in one place…

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Steaks with Blueberry Sauce

Steak with Blueberries

I saw this recipe in one of the newly acquired Williams-Sonoma cookbooks, and was instantly intrigued. But it just seemed so summery. There are no blueberries in January! Using frozen was an option, but it just didn’t seem right. After all, this is the time for squash, and beef stew, and casseroles. Not blueberries.

Then the weather in Boston suddenly got summery. Well, relatively summery. I mean, I still had to wear a coat and gloves, but it’s something like 60 degrees out right now, which is pretty damn summery for January. And I figured I might as well run with it, and push the summer envelope by cooking up some blueberries.

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Baristas my ass…

I can’t believe I never noticed before. Well, I guess I can believe it, because it’s not as though I frequent Starbucks. I’m pretty much only in them a few times a year, when I get the ubiquitous Starbucks gift cards for Christmas. This morning I took one of those Christmas gift cards and went to get myself a double short nonfat latte (or whatever the Starbucks lingo is for that), and that’s when I saw them. The fake espresso machines.

There are no group heads. There are no portafilters. There is no filling and tamping and no real pulling. It really is McSpresso. The complete mechanization of what I considered, after several years of pulling espresso, to be something of a beautiful coffee art. It was the final push that sent me into Starbucks hatred.

I started calling Starbucks the Evil Coffee Empire when I was in high school, but I always maintained at least small good feelings about the place for three reasons: They pay their employees decently, give them benefits, and teach them the fine art of brewing a wonderful coffee beverage. So what if they also teach them to add a bunch of sugary, caramely, whipped creamy crap to those beverages–at least they were also learning the ancient art, the craft of pulling espresso.

Except they’re not. Not learning the art anyway. They might still be getting good pay and benefits, but whatever. It is totally a McJob, requiring no skill and no learning, and no craft. They just push a button! And then pour some poorly foamed milk on top. (Of course, I’m feeling an inner conflict because my cousin has been working at Starbucks for years and I’m sure she is not a skill-less worker. She would probably argue the opposite of what I’m saying here. Or maybe not.)

Not like this is some kind of massive moment of disillusionment. I’ve never been a Starbucks fan. It was just a weird, weird moment, and a little bit soul crushing, to realize that even espresso could be machined.

Fettuccini with Spicy Broccolini

Fettuccini with Spicy Broccolini

What I really wanted to cook tonight was Orecchiette with Spicy Broccoli Rabe, but the useless hippie mart across the street, of course, had no broccoli rabe. Nor orecchiette. So some substitutions were in order. The impetus behind the meal had nothing to do, after all, with the broccoli rabe (and only a little to do with orecchiette…I love orecchiette), but rather more to do with getting rid of the leftover anchovies in my refrigerator.

So dinner quickly became Fettuccini with Spicy Broccolini. Broccolini is awfully fun to say.

I’m not actually sure why I wanted to cook a dish for the sole purpose of using anchovies. Despite the pleasing puttanesca experience, I’m still not sure I’m an anchovy person. When I opened up the contained they’d been living in for the past month, the smell wasn’t one that made me immediately think, “Yum, I can’t wait to eat those!” And when I pondered this recipe all day, I just kept thinking it seemed too simple, too basic.

Of course, there is something to be said for getting back to the basics where pasta is concerned. I’m in the middle of reading Buford’s Heat right now, and I keep thinking of the refrain, the pasta is what’s important, not what’s on it. Not like my Barilla boxed pasta really deserves odes or anything, but the point is that I’ve been thinking a lot lately about learning the basics, and developing a taste for the simple, easy pasta dishes that focus on just one or two ingredients. That mindset made the idea of eating pasta that was really nothing but broccolini and some anchovies a little more palatable.

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Acorn Squash and Sausage with Gemilli

Acorn Squash and Sausage with Gemilli

Last October, at the closing of the JP Farmer’s Market, Mr. X and I went a little overboard with squash. And I’ve been a little worried since then that it wouldn’t really last through the winter. Every few days I’d go into the pantry and check it out, worrying that it seemed a little waxier, a little more orange, than last time. When one of them (a pumpkin) developed little mushy green spots and a decidedly unwell appearance, I tossed it and decided it was about time the others were cooked.

I’d already done a stuffed acorn squash, a spaghetti-style spaghetti squash, a pan-seared delicata, and I wanted to try something kind of different. So I set to perusing my new Williams-Sonoma Pasta cookbook (How much do I love Williams-Sonoma cookbooks? Everything else in the store is crazy overpriced, but they make such gorgeous cookbooks!). Then I bastardized the crap out of the recipe I found.

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Eggs and Champagne

pseudo-Mike’s Mess

Mr. X and I didn’t really have a plan for New Years’ Day, besides Drink Champagne and Be Naked, so our trip to the grocery store to stock up for provisions was a bit haphazard. Too bad we didn’t think before hand, because Mr. X had a brilliant idea that morning that would have been even more better with a little advance planning: recreate the Zachary’s Mike’s Mess.

 The Mike’s Mess was a staple of my post-college years. I waited tables at Zachary’s for about a year, and probablyate one of these things a week: a huge frittata-like dish with eggs, bacon, the Zachary’s signature home fries, and mushrooms, topped with tons of cheddar cheese, sour cream, tomatoes, and green onions (and Miguel’s special salsa, when I order it, because I’m spicy like that). The Mess has a special place in my heart, and it truly was inspired to attempt to recreate it. Inspired, but not so easy, seeing as we were lacking about half the ingredients.

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New Years’ Eve: Late night craziness and dips!

2007 good times

After a week of dry toast, nasty zinc tablets, and tussin, I was, thank buddha, feeling well enough to party, and cook stuff, on New Years’ Eve. Eunice and Christine threw a party so we wouldn’t have to hand out with the drunk kids at the JJ, for which we are all thankful. Good times were had by all, and the food was plentiful and totally awesome. Everyone brought a little something, and here, to make up for a week of silence and a cold stove from me, are pictures and good times galore. Mr. X and I brought along some Red Pepper Feta dip, a Caramelized Onion and Mushroom Tart, Bacon Wrapped Shrimp Skewers, and some bread or something, for which recipes or something approximating them follow. Sally forth, my good friends, and try to avoid the hangover most of us had the next day…

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Soup in a Bag, or What I Eat When I’m Sick or Just Lazy

Soup in a Bag

I know it’s not really cooking, and that I probably shouldn’t even mention it here, but sometimes a girl just feels like booty, and the thought of going to the grocery store, chopping shit up, and standing long enough to cook it is very, very unappealing. Times like these are times I rely on soup in a bag.

Of course everyone eats soup when they’re sick: It’s easy, the steaminess instantly makes you feel better, and there’s all kinds of vegetables and good stuff in it. And sure, canned soup is easier, but this stuff is way, way, way better, and only takes about 15 minutes. And if you’re not feeling supremely lazy and/or sick, you can add in all kinds of vegetables and other good stuff, and actually serve it to people because it doesn’t taste like it came from a can.

I’m not getting paid by these people or anything, I just thought I’d let you in on the deal. If you see this shit in the market, it’s totally worth it. And hopefully, all the nutritive properties of lentils and carrots and stuff will knock this cold right on its ass, and out of me. Then I can get back to cooking real stuff.