Bad bread, bad!

Bread disaster

I’m not sure how I do these things, but yet again, I baked a loaf of bread that ended up mutilated. Oops.

I decided to bake bread this morning because the last half of the loaf I bought was run through with mold, and my current fund shortage eliminated the possibility of a trip to the market. Besides that, it’s a grey, 50 degree day here in Boston, and it seemed a good day for baking. And I even decided to try a new recipe.

I’ve avoided Margaux Sky’s Beautiful Breads and Fabulous Fillings before now because her recipes always seem to call for so many ingredients. Plus they make enough dough for four loaves of bread at a time, and using 18 cups of flour at once seems decadent to me. But this time I decided to go for it. I decided I could do the math and quarter the recipe. We had milk AND half and half AND eggs in the refrigerator, which never happens, so it seemed almost destiny. Margaux Sky’s Basic Whole Wheat Bread here I come. Except not.

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Refrigerator Vegetable Pasta: A quiet welcome back

Vegetables

I thought that after a week away from my kitchen, I’d want to create something elaborate. But that week away was full of family, noise, parties, music, and food food food. Both of my brothers are great cooks, and Saturday’s party for Patrick’s graduation involved piles of souvlaki, homemade tzatziki, pita, chips, salsa, cookies, crab dip, cheesecake, more cookies, more salsa…beer…more beer…I can’t go on. I got back to Boston and the thought of going shopping, planning meals, and eating more food just seemed daunting.

But a lady’s still gotta eat. So I kept it simple. I rooted around in the crisper for leftover vegetables and, with very little thought, and even less time, put together dinner. Nothing special, but full of enough vegetables to help me detox after a week in San Diego. I could probably could have done something a little more interesting, but that would have taken effort and energy, which I am still lacking.

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Vagabond

Vagabond

I’ve been in San Diego this week for my little bro’s high school graduation. Man, I can’t believe my little boy is all growned up. And about a foot taller than me. I’ve been trying not to be too sentimental.

The actual graduation ceremony was yesterday, and we had a big family dinner at a little bistro in South Park called Vagabond. (Beware: their website has music.) The South Park neighborhood is an area I never spent much time in, but my oldest little brother lives there now, and it seems like a pretty cool neighborhood–a few small restaurants, a coffee shops, and a friendly-looking dive bar.

From what I can see, Vagabond has most often been described as eclectic. The menu is kind of Asian-Caribbean-French fusion, and the little space is brightly painted, sunny, cozy, and welcoming. And as in San Francisco, it was nice to see an interesting menu with prices under $10–a rarity in Boston.

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It Must Suck to be a Vegetarian.

South African Peanut Stew

I concede the point that it’s wise and healthy to consort with meaty foods less frequently, but sometimes I concoct a recipe from the pages of a vegetarian cookbook or Vegetarian Times that just makes me feel bad for vegetarians. It’s not even that this tasted so terrible. But look at it! Monochromatic mush. And the original recipe from Vegetarian Times included no seasonings. Not even salt and pepper. In fact, while I set out to follow this recipe exactly, I had to give up halfway through because the recipe just seemed illogical, like someone in their test kitchen had been a little high the day it was written. Mr. X and I were both baffled when we read that butternut squash was supposed to cook thoroughly, in very little liquid, in 15 minutes. And we were a little worried when we read that we were meant to make a peanut sauce out of peanut butter and water. Just peanut butter and water. That, my friends, is not a sauce.

I will reiterate that this tasted fine. A little one-dimensional, perhaps, but fine. Not nearly as peanuty as I wanted, but fine. Definitely should have been in the January issue, rather than the May/June issue, what with all the root vegetables, but it was fine. My first thought when we started eating was, “How can I re-create this to be even better?” I suspect that if it’s re-tooled just a little, it could be a winter dinnertime staple. As long as I don’t mind that it will probably always be monochromatic mush.

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Pizza Chronicles, Part Five: A Field Guide to Pizza Excellence?

Red Pepper and Spinach Pizza

Our house is right on the main road running through Jamaica Plain, a road traveled at most hours of the day and night by buses and trucks that can’t take the windier and narrower alternate route into Boston. Very noisy buses and trucks. My bedroom windows are situated in such as way as to really effectively transmit that noise right from the street level straight to my bed. It’s truly amazing, a real feat of engineering! What this means for a light sleeper like myself is that once summer’s arrived and the windows are open, I’m woken up every morning at 4.30, when the first bus rumbles by, electonically squawking “Route 39, Forest Hills to Back Bay, Route 39.” Lately, various mental stresses and strains have preventing me falling right back to sleep, and this morning I said to myself, “F*&% it, I’m just getting up! Hell, the sun’s already up! Why not me?”

This explains why, by the time I got the DMV at 8.30 am, I was already grouchy.

There is no group of people in this world better skilled at causing ladies to want to yell lots of swears and weep copiously than the fine people at the Chinatown branch of the  Massachusetts DMV. Needless to say, I found myself in a bureaucratic hell spiral for most of the morning, gaping incredulously at the lack of logic and competence around me.

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Portabello and Chickpea Toasted Spaghetti

Portabello and Chickpea Toasted Spaghetti

I saw something in Vegetarian Times the other day that completely intrigued me: a recipe for spaghetti that involved toasting it, then cooking it in broth until the broth is absorbed, risotto-like. Clotilde, at Chocolate & Zucchini, actually shared something similar last year, and I’d experimented with it with good results. The VT recipe used a technique that differs just a little from Clotilde’s–the pasta is toasted in the oven, rather than in a skillet stovetop, and the stock is flavored with all kinds of yumminess. Of course, I changed the VT recipe up a little bit–their’s calls for spinach and tomato paste, neither of which I have.

To be honest, I feel like this lacks a little something, for which I have to blame myself, since I didn’t really follow the recipe. The chickpea to spaghetti ratio in my version was way off, which I predicted and yet did nothing to mitigate. I let myself believe that you can’t go wrong with lots of chickpeas, but in this instance, they just overpowered everything else. And I can’t really tell if the too-spiciness is due to overuse of red pepper flakes, or the fact that I substituted a bit of salsa for the tomato paste. Hm. Regardless, the method is certainly worth experimenting with, and I think a better ingredient balance would be very easy to attain.

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Andouille Sausage Cornbread

Andouille Sausage Cornbread

I woke up this morning with an intense craving. The other day I read Laurent’s post about sausage cornbread and I couldn’t stop thinking of it. It had to happen, and today was the day. The day of sausage.

It seemed a shame, as Mr. X had finally remembered to bring home more of the awesome bacon. I considered whether this sausage cornbread could become bacon cornbread, but the allure of the meaty sausage was too much for me. The bacon would have to wait. I rushed right out to the market for provisions, and left Mr. X sleeping and unsuspecting.

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Waiter, there’s something in my eye…

Stuffed Peppers

Those are tears, because this dinner is not only my entry in this month’s WTSIM event, but our sad good bye dinner to our dear, loved, and lovely housemate, Alex, who is graduating from law school today and setting out for Texas and lawyering. We decided to pull out all the stops with much prosecco and mojitos, and a great big celebratory dinner. I decided on stuffed peppers because I’d been thinking of them for weeks, and they were sufficiently elegant and could easily be made sans meat for our non-meateating Alex.

They were quite a hit, and I must say one of the best things to have graced our kitchen table in recent months. Sure, I spent two hours in the kitchen, but they were relatively leisurely hours and all the my pains were quickly forgotten as we moved into our second bottle of prosecco, and our third toast to all of the ginormous changes coming up in all of our lives.

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Homemade Tortilla Chips and a Smoky Kitchen

Chippity Chips

Last night was a little bit of a stove top disaster zone. I have been perpetually jet lagged since returning from San Francisco, and hence my thinking hasn’t been so clear. At the market after work I bought salsa, but no chips, and didn’t exactly plan out a dinner very well. And in my fuzzy headedness I thought it would be a great idea to make my own tortilla chips. We had a bag of corn tortillas in the refrigerator that no one was going to use, and I’ve never really done it before, so hey! Why not pick a time when I can barely think? Hoorah!

I created the most smokiest kitchen I’ve ever been in in my life.

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Because Who Doesn’t Like Talking About Themselves

Lisa over at La Mia Cucina, one of my daily reads, posted a fun and highly informative interview on Monday, and then asked her readers to join in the fun. Anyone interested could declare themselves, and she would send five questions to them in exchange for them doing the same for others. Passing on the chain of sharing, so to speak. I loved reading about how Lisa wanted to be an ichthyologist when she was younger (really? Sharks?) and since I love answering random questions, and thought it would be a fun way to get to know some of my other readers (if you exist…) I had to sign myself up.

Lisa promptly sent me five questions this morning. And here for your voyeuristic and entertainment edification, my answers:

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