Stuffed Squash is Stuffed Goodness

Stuffed Squash

The day after I made this, I brought leftovers to work for lunch. One of my co-workers took one look at it and said “Eating Well magazine?” She had, apparently, made the same thing earlier in the week. But of course, how could anyone not be tempted by acorn squash stuffed with beans and sausage? I am certainly glad I was tempted because this was amazing. It was one of those great dinners, too, that looks incredibly impressive but doesn’t really take much effort.

I’m sorry Miss Crystal wasn’t here to enjoy this. I thought of her and her risotto-stuffed pumpkin the whole time I was eating it. As she would say, stuffed squash is a quintessentially Laura kind of dinner. And yeah, anything with beans and sausage is a pretty Laura kind of dinner, too.

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Study Break Coffee-Break Muffins

Crumbs

The other night, after I finished writing up my portion of a group paper (who the heck invented the group paper, anyway? Can I torture him?), I decided it was time to get out the mixing bowls, turn on the oven, and cook something from my brand new cookbook: Baking: From My Home to Yours. Yes, I finally got my little hands on Dorie Greenspan’s beautiful book, the book Brilynn over at Jumbo Empanadas has been talking up forever. And I am so glad I did. This enormous tome is full of delicious looking things, but the first thing that caught my eye were these Coffee-Break Muffins.

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Only the blog has been neglected, my stomach remains satisfied

Bean and Corn Soup

Oh the neglect. I must apologize to whatever readers remain. The past few weeks have been stressful, exciting, busy, exhausting, fantastic, and terrifying. This being a student again thing is turning out to be more intense than I expected. My previous educational experiences stand out in my mind as a series of thrilling days full of joyful learning. I didn’t remember the hard work parts. I’m remembering them now. Don’t misunderstand. It’s freakin’ great, but I am tired.

I finally got a chance to talk to the Lady Crystal today (oh thank god, I needed that) and her plaintive sighs about missing my cooking and my blog are what brought me to the ‘puter tonight. It’s about time, and I swear, I will do my best to not let so much time elapse in the future. Especially because I really have been cooking things. I’m not subsisting on take out and frozen pizza, I swear!

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Tofu, Noodles, and Peanut Sauce

Tofu, Noodles, and Peanut Sauce

So, this whole schooling thing is proving way more time consuming than I expected. Updating twice a week? Ok, not so far. It’s actually not that the school work is time consuming. It’s that it is so draining the last thing I want to do when I come home is sit down and write about what I just barely managed to dredge up the energy to cook. Because I have been cooking, and some good stuff, too. Like the above: Tofu, udon noodles, fresh vegetables, and peanut sauce, one of my favorite things in the world.

I may have mentioned before that I have a bit of a thing for peanut butter. Like, I eat it almost everyday. This addiction extends to peanuts, peanut sauce, peanut butter cookies, pretty much anything involving the delicious flavor of that lovely legume, Arachis hypogaea. I’ve experimented with a few different peanut sauce recipes and so far the best I’ve found is from Martha Stewart’s Everyday Food. It’s pretty thick, and very strongly peanut-y, but with a nice kick to it. I usually pair it with red peppers and udon noodles, and I find it’s just as delicious cold as it is hot. This sauce has definitely become a kitchen staple.

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The Atlantic, Some Lobsters, and Beer in a Can

The beach at Chatham

I finally visited the Cape for the first time, after over four years of living in Massachusetts. I grew up on the Pacific and always considered myself an ocean lover, a beach goer, someone who had to live near large bodies of salt water. And yes, Boston is technically near a large body of salt water, but it sure doesn’t feel like it. I so rarely see the Atlantic, and when I do it’s usually in some half-assed way: I’m looking at a bay or harbor or some crap. This weekend was the first time I found myself looking at the unhampered, unimpeded Atlantic Ocean. And I got to tell ya something: It was a little disappointing.

Don’t get me wrong. I really enjoyed my weekend in Chatham. It was glorious to spend an entire day at the beach, to experience truly perfect summer weather (no humidity!), to actually get a suntan and wear a bathing suit. And best of all: I had my first real lobster experience. Lobster ravioli from Trader Joe’s just doesn’t count. No, this weekend we bought live lobsters and threw them into a vat of boiling water and then pulled their innards out of their shells to devour. Yes, yes we did. And I loved it.

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Zucchini, Pepperoni, and Caramelized Onion Pizza

Crust Close-up

As Mr. X said, zucchini and pepperoni, together at least. Alright, he was being sarcastic, but he didn’t taste this pizza, either, and I’m repeating his commentary with no trace of sarcasm at all. This one was a winner. The sweetness of the onions balanced the spiciness of the pepperoni, and the zucchini was the unique, unexpected, summery tasting thing that tied it all together.

Not to mention the crust–I think I’ve finally found the recipe that’s going to stick. So much so that it’s going into the collection of basic, foundational recipes, the things I come back to over and over. This crust is chewy and crispy, and holds up like a champ to the crazy things I like to top it with. Yes, kids, we have a winner.

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Pepper-crusted Lamb Chops with a Red Wine Sauce

Lamby Lamb

It is a sad state of affairs to discover a new love only to realize, in the same moment, that you will more often than not suffer deprivation, that this new object of your affection is just too far outside the grasp of your wallet to be enjoyed on more than a very occasional basis. Such was my lamb chop experience the other night.

It’s not that I’d never had lamb chops before. In fact, I tend to order them whenever I see them on a menu. I’ve always been attracted to their diminutive appearance on the plate, like little meat lollipops. But to be perfectly honest, I don’t think I’ve ever had lamb chops as good as those I made for myself the other night. I don’t like to pat my own back, but damn Gina. How is it that in most restaurants they tend to be a little dried out, a little under seasoned, a little not nearly as good as those you see in that picture above? I really don’t know.  Of course, now that I have experienced how tender and amazing and delicious lamb chops can truly be, I have also experienced paying more for them than I thought I’d ever spend on a piece of meat at the supermarket. And I know that these will be an indulgence I seldom get to enjoy.

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Arancini di Riso con Funghi, and this time it worked!

Risotto and Tongs

Thanks so much to everyone who has left comments and sent emails lamenting my sudden disappearance from the kitchen. It’s great to know that I and my food experimentation have been missed. Things have been absolutely crazy here these past few weeks. Crystal left for Spain, after many visa debacles. I started a new job. I’ve undertaken a massive book reorganization project, so the huge collection is finally being put in order. I’ve had to spend way more time than I wanted dealing with computer issues and yes, I am actually debating going over to the dark side and buying a macbook. Not to mention attempting to keep the house clean, getting myself to the gym on occasion, and taking advantage of my last weeks of freedom before school by going out to the bar too much. Uh oh.

But I have been cooking, at least a little bit. Before Crystal’s departure she requested one last risotto, a Wild Mushroom and Pea risotto, which was fantastic. Of course, I made way too much and the day after making it, on Crystal’s very last night in the States, I decided to try, yet again, to make arancini di riso, or risotto fritters, risotto balls, fried risotto, whatever you want to call it. My last experiment with these never made it to these pages because it was disastrous. They stuck to the pan and fell apart and didn’t cook all the way through and, ugh, nightmare. This time, though, they were perfect.

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8 Random Things

There has been no food this week. No time for cooking. We’ve been subsisting off toast and brie and white wine over here as Crystal frantically packed her entire life in preparation for a move to Spain that, well, hasn’t quite happened yet. Talk about being in limbo–she’s just waiting for the Spanish Consulate to approve her visa. She had to cancel her Thursday afternoon flight and there is still a vast amount of uncertainty about when she will be able to move. This week has been busy and overwhelming and not a little emotionally exhausting, so frankly, I haven’t been anywhere near an unprepared food product.

To make it up to you, oh faithful readers, I’ll play a little game. My old coworker, who writes excellent and entertaining bits over at Must Be Motherhood, passed along this meme: Share eight random things about yourself. Well ok.

8. I own a pair of shoes I’ve never, ever worn but can’t bring myself to throw away. They are beautiful but so uncomfortable that even slipping them on for a second hurts. Walking around in them is unimaginable. They’ve been in my closet now for seven years. I don’t  know why I still have them.

7. I love photographs of my hands. When I was young and dreamed of being a photographer I took a whole series of photographs of my hands. I find them strangely compelling.

6. I’ve probably only read about 60 percent of the 500+ books I own. And I keep books I didn’t even really like that much. I always claim it’s because they might be useful for a paper someday.  (And, like my former coworker, I can’t stop reading a book once I’ve started, even if I don’t like it. It does feel morally wrong!)

5. I am usually starving when I wake up in the morning, now matter how late I ate the night before. And I mean starving. Stomach shouting in protest, near-nausea, weak, and inevitably grumpy starving. That is about the only time of day I am ever that hungry.

4. I am much more of a traditionalist than I ever thought I’d be.

3. My family (all 57 million members of the extended version included) mean the world to me. The hardest thing about living in Boston is being far away from them. I sometimes have a hard time understanding people who aren’t close to their families.

2. I never thought I was a gym person, and in fact almost never exercised when I was younger. Now, if I don’t go four or five times a week I feel antsy and unwell. I have no idea how this happened.

1. I have a hard time admitting that I want to move back to California. I didn’t want to be that girl, but I just miss it too much.

Well, that was fun. And in turn? I’m passing it along to the few people I know who read this blog on a regular basis: Lisa, Brilynn, Mr. X, and Miss Crystal (now that you have a blog of your own, it’s time you joined in the fun and games).

I promise I’ll start cooking again this week, once the house is cleaned and there’s time for a grocery store trip again. Once I’ve slept.

Eggplant Parm? Oh hell yeah!

Eggplant Parm

Thank god things finally cooled off a little in this hellhole we call Boston. I wasn’t about to turn the oven on this week, and I had an eggplant in the fridge, patiently waiting to be put to good use. And I was deadset on making eggplant parmesan. “Why,” you might ask, “in the heated hot humidity of August, does a girl want to make eggplant parm?” Well I have no good answer to that question, but it got in my head and I couldn’t shake it out. And finally, today, with nary a trace of damp stickiness in the air, today was my day. Or the eggplant’s day, rather.

I gotta tell you, people, this was glorious. I never made eggplant parmesan before and I rocked its pants off. I wish I wasn’t the only person around these parts who eats eggplant, but hey, more for me. The tomato sauce was light and just the right amount of tang and sweet, the eggplant didn’t mush up at all, the seasonings were just right and the copious gloopy beautiful mounds of melted cheese…oh, that is bliss, my friends. Heavenly cheesy bliss.

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