Jenmenke

Road Warrior

Food

Meatless Monday Two

Ma Po Tofu!

My second Meatless Monday venture very nearly echoed my first: it was almost 3pm before I was finished with my “chores.”

Yes. I admit it. I was working on this effing puzzle. My mom brought it back from Hayward where we had been working on it over the holidays. Never in all my puzzle-working years have I not finished a puzzle over the course of a couple days. I know this one doesn’t look much different than your average puzzle. But trust me, it was. I’ve even worked puzzles that are practically monochromatic and had better luck. I hung my head in shame as we left Hayward to come home, leaving the puzzle incomplete. I figured my mom would finish it off…

Not so. She and my Dad showed up on my doorstep with it as they left town for Mexico cursing my fate for the next two days.

They also left me with their new (rescue) dog Pippi. Better known as POOPY to me, since all she does is crap in my house.

Well, she keeps Lola happy, too. Which is nice.

Anyway. I digress. I was doing the stupid puzzle, and I was also making boatloads of bread for the people who won it at an auction several months ago. I was also oiling the Paperstone counters and the now-apparently-poisoned cutting boards (see the comments section) with the good Paperstone oil, only wandering into my office and the computer around lunch time to return emails and make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything important. (I’m serious. I really do that. I just don’t always catch things in time.

It was then I saw this tweet from @CaptainMal: “What’s for dinner tonight?” #meatlessmonday

Shit, shit and double shit. Meatless Monday! (Are you picking up on a theme here? Don’t remind me to tell you about the two back-to-back board meetings that took place last week that I forgot about and was late for.)

Foreseeing this exact situation, I had armed myself with a few staples at the grocery store last week. Namely, I had picked up some tofu and fresh broccoli.

I suddenly remembered this recipe I had cut out of Cooking Light years ago for something called Ma Po Tofu. I sifted thru the stack in my recipe folder and found it. (Amazing, in and of itself.) The only problem was that it called for ground pork and chicken broth. Really? You call something Ma Po TOFU and include MEAT in it?

I had to do a fair bit of ad libbing since the recipe didn’t call for much more than the tofu and pork… And? It turned out really good. Charlie wasn’t happy, but Morgan liked it. And… OH, I almost forgot! Dave was out of town! I completely forgot he was gone (!) until he called in the middle of my prep. I reminded him that he couldn’t have any meat because it was ‘his’ New Year’s Resolution. He just laughed and asked me if I thought it was a coincidence that he was gone on Monday.

(I don’t have full control over everyone in the family  yet. But I am working on it.)

Anyway, I fully endorse this recipe, so go ahead and try it!

Slice 1 block of firm tofu horizontally into 6 slices and put several layers of paper towel on top and weight with a plate (I used a pie plate with a bowl of water to weight it down) for at least 30 minutes.

Then drain off any water and dice into 1/2″ pieces.

I happened to have some ancient vegetable bouillon.

…which looked disgusting as it dissolved, but tasted *fine*, I guess. I’m going to have to make some real vegetable stock because I really don’t like bouillon cubes — in any flavor — all that much. I think they are just colored salt.

Mix 1 cup vegetable broth with 2 tablespoons soy sauce, 1 tablespoon corn starch, 1 tablespoon oyster sauce and 1-2 teaspoons of chili garlic sauce. Whisk together and set aside.

Blanch a half head of broccoli and 1/2 cup peanuts (I just used dry roasted because that’s all I ever have) in boiling water for about 1-2 minutes. Broccoli should still be firm.

Drain and shock in ice water. Then drain again (picking out any remaining ice cubes).

Dice and saute half an onion, three minced garlic cloves and about two tablespoons of grated ginger. Then add 1/2 cup of edamame and the diced tofu. Stir fry over medium high heat for 3-4 minutes. Then add sauce mix, scraping the bottom of the pan well. Throw in the drained broccoli and peanuts and stir until hot.

At the last minute I threw in about 1/8 cup of chopped red peppers for some color. I liked it.

Serve over hot brown rice and promise your 12.5 year old son that you won’t post the picture you snapped of him with a big pouty face as you serve the delicious tofu meal.

The Lazy Way to Homemade Chicken Stock

This is just a quick post for my eye-rolling friends and relatives in retort to all their snide comments about the fact that I use homemade stock for most of my soups.

If you haven’t been following along, I will repeat what is, by now, obvious: I delight in making food from garbage. Chicken bones from a roast chicken are — to my mind — garbage.

I do not buy new chicken to make stock. That seems almost insane. That you would make stock from a fresh chicken and discard or overcook the chicken in the name of stock… Insane.

So, it goes without saying that I am not a stock purist. Am not. If you are, please move away from the computer now, as you will be horrified by both my materials and technique.

This is akin to my approach to composting. No effort with satisfactory results. Not clear consume. But good, bold flavor.

All you need is freezer space.

Here’s what you do:

Every time you eat a roast chicken — or any chicken with bones — you save the bones, the meat clinging to the bones, and any skin you might have and store it in a freezer bag in the freezer (also throw in any from the plate of a stubborn child). When the bag is full, and you have no more room, you make stock. I use big 2 1/2 gallon freezer bags to store. Then I make the broth in one of those big steamer/roaster ovens. Mine is Hamilton Beach I think. (The same thing I use for my pulled pork.)

Anyway. The bonus in using that apparatus, aside from the size and the ability to cook lots of chicken bone garbage, is the fact that you can cook it outside.

I love the aroma of chicken broth simmering — for about 2 hours. After that it starts to make me sick. Too much for too long. But maybe that’s just me?

So anyway, I put the roaster outside and cook away! For hours! I cook it low and slow. I don’t worry about it boiling and clouding… I check the water level every now and then, push things around with some tongs. And really, it turns out just fine. You should try it.

Add bones to the pot.

Add a couple bay leaves, salt and pepper and whatever questionable vegetables you have laying around in your crisper drawer. Ideally carrot, celery and onion.

Cover bones with cold, fresh water. Cover and turn roaster to 300 until it boils then turn it down to the temperature that keeps it at a nice simmer — which for me varies, depending on whether it is -15 below (like it was on this day) or 70 degrees outside. Alternately, bring to boil on stove, then turn down to a simmer, cover and cook until it tastes good.

Cool broth and strain the solids. I like to let the broth cool to scrape off the fat easily.

Then, measure the amount you want to freeze (I do 3-4 cups in quart sized bags or 6-8 cups in a gallon bags) into ziplock bags and freeze flat.

Fresh homemade stock from something that you would normally throw away! So easy!

$20 Kitchen Makeover

(And a lesson on oiling new, cheap cutting boards)

I’m not complaining. I have a great kitchen, and I love it. But there is always room for improvement.

For example. My desire was to have countertops with wood or butcherblock. However, my germ-o-phobe husband could think of absolutely nothing worse. His skin crawled at the very idea. It was non-negotiable. So we compromised with shiny, black, impossible-to-look-perfect-granite. Hard, cold, everything-breaks-granite. (But beautiful when clean and streak free.)

I’d bought a few cutting boards over the years with the idea of leaving them permanently on the counter, but it never really worked the way I thought it would. However, a few months ago, on my first real outing to Ikea, next to the Mall of America (inward shudder), I found a cutting board that hooked over the edge of the counter. And the best part? It was only $9.99! I had seen this style of cutting board elsewhere for around $100! $9.99?

Even if it was a piece of crap, I’d at least see if it worked the way I wanted it to and consider making a larger investment on a better one if it fell apart, right?

So I bought it, and put it in place. I did give it a quick and brief coverage with oil over the next couple weeks, because the enclosed insert said to, but I didn’t pay too much attention because nothing really bad ever happened to any other cutting board I owned from lack of oil.

But here’s the thing: all cutting boards need oil to keep them from absorbing moisture, odors, etc. Moisture is the biggest problem because it causes them to warp or crack — both of which seemed to be happening to my new, awesomely inexpensive cutting board. Such a bummer!

I probably have never had problems with other cutting boards for a couple reasons. I suspect the more expensive ones come pre-oiled to some extent. Also, the sides of the Ikea boards are thick, open grained, unfinished wood which are veritable sponges for any moisture. I’ve noticed other cutting boards have a type of boarder of finished wood around them — probably to prevent warping. All I know for sure is that the Ikea one was warping and — very slightly — starting to crack within a week of purchase. I also found that I did, indeed, love the cutting board. I loved it so much that I bought a brand new one to flank the other side of the stove on my very next trip to Ikea months later.

I can’t believe how great it is…

Because now, it’s almost as if I have a butcher block island!

And Dave is totally OK with it because it isn’t permanent!

This time though, I decided to do some research on oils and preservation techniques. It seems that there is a lot of controversy over what type of oil to use. (Small wonder). I happened to use some ancient Lemon Oil I found in my broom closet, circa… I have no idea. I’m going to guess circa 1980, but that’s a total guess. It could be older. Anyway, I couldn’t find any negative info on lemon oil — which is good, because I already used it — but do your own research, as I refuse to become an expert on the subject. Here is a really informative post on the subject.

So basically, you add oil on a regular basis until the board stops absorbing it.

My question is: What if it never stops absorbing it?

Seriously. This Ikea board has absorbed over 12 ounces of lemon oil and shows no signs of ceasing. I should note that I have also been oiling the older board, and while it hasn’t absorbed as much, it is still drinking it up. Interestingly, there are certain individual boards that soak it up much faster than others, as shown here:

These photos show me oiling the ends of the board, as that seems to be the area that it absorbs the most moisture. My first board began to warp shortly after I began using it. I would flip it over and pour water on the underside to counteract the warp (Brilliant, no? No. Not brilliant). It worked, but I’ve been doing this dance since the first week, no doubt making the problem ten times worse. Since I began the oil diet however, the warping has slowly begun to go away on its own. I predict that the massive amount of oil is going to both stop the small crack AND stop the warping.

Anyway, I think I have gotten away from the main idea of this writing, and that is: I feel like I have a whole new kitchen! I love how it looks, the functionality, all of it. I know there are people who turn their noses up at Ikea but you gotta admit, they’ve got some great stuff.

I got a whole new kitchen! For twenty bucks!

Well, and the cost of a bottle of antique lemon oil.

Meatless Monday One

I already regret my New Year’s Resolution.

I lost track of time, like always.

Every January I am struck by a strange and unstoppable compulsion to clean, organize and declutter every closet, shelf, cabinet and drawer. It doesn’t matter what my calendar says or what other promises I have made for the day. I suddenly and inexplicably find myself with a rag in one hand cleaning the outer corners of a pantry that hasn’t seen a mop or a vacuum in at least two years.

That was a few days ago. Monday, it was the two junk drawers in the kitchen and the book shelves in the living room. It took all day. I don’t know why it took all day, but it did. And I was exhausted by the end of it. My donation pile grew and my satisfaction along with it. Until… I realized… oh shit. MEATLESS MONDAY!

And by now, of course, you all know that a quick run to the grocery store was not an option for me.

What to do, what to do.

I run by the Tasty Kitchen in a frenzy. My scattered brain and frantic fingers can hardly concentrate. Morgan wanted butternut squash pasta or ravioli. No time for that. Besides, no butternut! (hear that Michelle? NO BUTTERNUT!) What do I have… what can I make….

Perhaps because the idea of Morgan’s butternut pasta was somehow lodged in my psyche… I don’t know. I don’t know what possessed me to consider the roasted carrots in the freezer from the fall of 2008. Who knows how my brain works.

But defrost the carrots I did.

And it was all downhill from there.

Oh, I gave it a nobel effort. But from that very first decision, I was lost.

So, yes. I promised to write about each meal. But you won’t be needing this recipe. So I’ll save you all the lovely photos of the process.

Except maybe this one:

mmm. I bet that makes your mouth water, doesn’t it?

Maybe the same feeling you get right before you throw up.

Here’s another detail about the night’s festivities: I must have been asked six times, between the hours of 5 and 7, what I was making. Dave even called from the car out of curiosity.

What could I say?

Baked Wheat Pasta with Pureed Carrot Sauce? Are you kidding me?

With ginger, garlic, wine, half and half, orange juice, thyme, sage, pine nuts and ricotta? Because I just kept adding ingredients with the hope that it would begin to taste like something other than year-old roasted carrots from the freezer?

What would you have said?

So I lied.

(Don’t worry. They don’t read this so they’ll never know. I told them it was indeed butternut squash.)

And they believed me!

And they ate it!

It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. Except for the fact that we all had to add about a cup of liquid to our plates in order to make it edible. I added half and half. I mean it’s Meatless Monday, not Fatfree Friday.

But I still think bacon bits would have improved it.

Meatless Mondays!

Come along on the ride, or join the movement with us*

*The Menke family is embarking on their 2nd annual New Year’s resolution lead fearlessly by the mother ship.

(I can’t say they are any happier about this resolution than they were about the last.)

See, I am a woman of the obtainable resolution. I am serious about resolutions. I don’t necessarily make one every year, but if I do make one, I aim to I keep it. For that reason, I never make a resolution about weight or working out. It’s such a cliché, it’s hard, and as soon as I go on record with anything diet or excersice related I begin to obsess. We can’t have that. But the bottom line is, it is really, really hard — though probably not any harder than the year I made a resolution to improve my posture….

That was a bad resolution.

I did work on my posture and I continue to work on my posture. And I will always and forever be working on my horrible posture. Bad resolution.

So anyway.

I always ask my family what their resolution is going to be. And every year it’s the same thing. They don’t have one. They don’t want one. They like their life the way it is. They see no point to self improvement.

So I make suggestions. Why don’t you try to __(fill in the blank)_.

Still no takers. (And I come up with some pretty good ones.)

So I make stronger suggestions mixed with threats and guilt, as only I can do. (I was going to say “as only a mother can do,” but I actually feel that I possess a special gift for this negotiation technique.)

Anyway, last year I had a brilliant idea. Instead of making my own resolution, I would make a family resolution. I would decide something that I wanted to achieve and then call it a family resolution and drag them all down the rabbit hole with me.

In order to make my plan work, I would need to choose the resolution wisely. It would need to be something that — if resisted — I could twist into something truly ugly.  And so it was:

The Spontaneous Dinner Prayer vs The Rote Dinner Prayer

You see, we defected from the local Catholic church a few years ago and began attending an Evangelical Free Church. Marvelous, marvelous place. Truly. However, with all of us Catholics and our rote prayer upbringing, we were serious fish out of water when it came to what I call the “spontaneous prayer.”

I like to think I’m a brave person and not easily embarrassed. But ask me to pray in front of someone or lead a prayer? I can’t think of anything worse. I’m not kidding.

Plus, our dinner meal always started off with the most pathetic attempt at prayer. Everyone mumbling “Bless us the Lord and these Thy gifts…” as fast as possible. I was quite certain that the kids didn’t even really know what they were saying.

I tried to slow things down. Emphasize words. But I was just that person not keeping pace with the rest.

The Spontaneous Prayer resolution would be multi-layered:

  1. It would force my family to join in the fun by making a resolution that I could enforce
  2. It would improve the dinner prayer by making everyone think about what they wanted to say
  3. It would improve our standing in the eyes of God (*hopefully)
  4. It would let me practice my insane fear of praying in front of people on my family with the idea that it would get easier when I needed to do it in front of others (*it did not)
  5. It would increase my diabolical control over my family

All things considered, Family Resolution 2009 was a smashing success. There is no reason to believe 2010 won’t bring the same success.

I came up with Meatless Mondays after reading and listening to several sources talk about the complexities of calculating our “carbon footprint” and why eating local isn’t the end-all solution.

We do fairly well on the whole localvore thing, so I was dismayed to learn (or be brainwashed into believing, as some would say) that US meat production is ridiculously bad for the earth. However, let me be clear on one thing: We Love Meat.

I do fantasize the notion of going vegetarian, but like making a resolution about exercising, I am a realist. And here’s one fact that can not be denied: there is no vegetarian dish that can’t be made 100% better with the addition of crumbled bacon. Period. How can I walk away from crumbled bacon for the rest of my life? And don’t get me started on vegan and the loss of blue cheese…

Vegetarianism is simply not an option for me at this point in my life. However — and this is for you  GARY FRANCIONE WHOEVER YOU ARE — if our family eats meatless even one day a week it will make a bigger difference than if we drove a hybrid car instead of our gas-guzzling SUV’s. Isn’t that better than nothing?

So all you vegans and vegetarians, please don’t turn your noses up. You could even encourage meat lovers like me to take baby steps in a noble new direction. Or you could simply worship and admire me. That would be even better.

Tomorrow: Our first Meatless Monday Meal: Disaster. What was I even thinking when I pureed year old carrots from the freezer?

Finally A Pheasant to Cook!

And We’re Making Szechuan Pheasant with Cashews.

Dave has hunted and hunted to no avail. He gets all geared up, the dogs howling the whole time, gets in his car, drives up the driveway, and away from our 40 acres and resident Bachelor Rooster Clique (we don’t want to shoot our own pheasants), to public management areas that have been hunted every day for the past 2 months. No wonder he doesn’t get any. I am ashamed to say that I have not joined him this year yet. Just lazy.

Well, he finally hunted someone else’s (non-public) land and got a nice rooster. Buzz got to go along for what will likely be his last hunt, poor guy. But the happy news is that they brought home a bird. I commanded Dave to bone it (HA! Finally he had to do it instead of me.) so that I could quickly make our favorite go-to pheasant recipe. Szechuan Pheasant with Cashews.

Not sure what makes this szechuan… I think I just called it that one time and now that’s what it is known as forever. I adapted it from a mild recipe in the L.L. Bean Wild Game Cookbook and made it more Asian and spicy in nature. I’m no expert in Chinese provinces, however, and I have likely picked the wrong monicker. Oh well, there’s no changing the name now.

First, and most sadly for you, you must bone the pheasant. It is tedious — especially the legs. But don’t skip them, like I caught Dave trying to do! They are tasty. Just make sure you strip the tendons out. And save everything, as you will be making broth from the bones and scraps. As you bone the bird, cut into large bite size chunks. Rinse and put into a bowl and cover with milk and set aside until you have the broth made and are ready to brown the meat.

You will also want to serve this over rice. We like it on wild rice. White or brown would be fine, too, but pheasant seems to be made for wild rice. If you choose to go that route, start by soaking the rice for an hour, then rinse and put into a pot. Add enough cold water to cover the rice by an inch, add salt and bring to a boil, then cover and turn down to a simmer and cook until grains have opened up which takes about an hour or more. I make a whole bag of wild rice and freeze it so we have it on hand. Works great.

To make the broth, add the boned carcass and any scraps to a medium pot and cover with cold water. Add some whole peppercorns, a bay leaf, a whole clove of garlic, a half a carrot, and simmer on low/med low for about an hour. (sorry, no picture since I boiled the bones along with my turkey and chicken bones that I was making stock with on the same day that I made this)

When the broth is done and you are ready to brown the pheasant, mix 1 cup flour, 1 tsp salt, 1 tsp freshly ground pepper and 1 tsp thyme in a shallow dish. I use a pyrex pie plate.

This isn’t sounding very szechuan, is it? Well, just go with it. We’ll fix that a little later. And don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning.

Heat a heavy bottomed large pot (like a Le Creuset) over medium high heat. Add 2 tablespoons of oil. Take the pheasant pieces out of the milk and dredge in the flour mixture,

then place into the hot oil.

Let sit without moving to obtain a nice brown crust, then flip for a total of 4-5 minutes. Maintain the heat so that you don’t blacken the oil and crust that is left on the bottom of the pan. I usually have to do 2 or 3 batches for one pheasant. Add a bit more oil before each batch.

Ideally when you are done, the bottom of your pan will be dark, but not black. And if that is the case, congratulations. You are a better cook than I. I nearly always end up with black. I’m done berating myself for this lack of skill.  But I have learned something about this occurance: don’t ignore it! French onion soup, pan sauces, and this recipe will be ruined if you ignore it and continue. Trust me. This much I know.

[Writing this and looking at the pictures, I am left to wondering if I put the pieces of meat closer together if I would have less burning. Anyone?]

So, if you, too, end up with black in your pan at the end of your browning, just give the pan a quick pass in the sink with some hot water and a scrub brush while it’s still hot. You don’t have to clean it, just get the burnt bits out because they will ruin the flavor of the dish.

And, if you have beautiful browned bits instead of black, be sure to use a wooden spoon as you add the broth to scrape up all the good flavor. But don’t leave me a comment, because I don’t want to know about it.

ANYWAY…

Strain the broth made from the pheasant bones. You should have about 3 cups.

If you have less, add some chicken broth. If you have more, save some or boil it down a bit. Taste it. If it is too weak, add some chicken bouillon to taste. When you have the broth tasting good, add it to the same pot you browned the meat in.

Add the browned pheasant pieces along with 1 tablespoon toasted & crushed coriander (cilantro) seed, whole dried hot peppers (I use 3-4 and break them in half to release some of the heat. This makes the dish about medium/hot heat) and simmer 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. The broth will thicken as it cooks. (I had some extra celery and onion I threw in for these photos, but I don’t usually. I was good, but I wouldn’t do it if I hadn’t had them sitting there already.)

Slice 3 green onions (which of course I did not have on hand) and rough chop about 1/2 cup of cashews. Put hot cooked wild rice on a serving platter, pour the hot pheasant and broth over the rice and sprinkle with scallions and cashews.

Szechuan? Probably not. But darn good.

Click for recipe: