Oct
07
2009
Waffled.
Art of the Waffle?
Breakfast calls to me. Screams to me. I’m not satisfied in the morning with a bowl of raisin bran and some orange juice. I demand satisfaction.
I like a nice stack of waffles. I don’t care if they’re funny shapes, nationalities, or colors. I just like some waffles. Cooked up with some vanilla (the Lord made vanilla for waffles and pancakes) and drenched in maple syrup… heaven.
Sky's the limit. I'll stick to three.
Easy to make in small quantities, too. While stacks upon stacks of waffley wonderment would be a sight, I’m cooking for one. A one cup of flour batch of batter makes about four waffles for me. (The extra is for snacking while the others are in the iron.) I could make more, but the stuff doesn’t keep well, since I work with baking powder.
Yeasted waffles would be another matter entirely (and are also delicious. For another day.)
Oct
05
2009
Smashburger.
Hello, stranger.
Yes, the burger odyssey tapped out. My physician breathed a sigh of relief, so at least its a win for somebody. To bring it, and surlyman (I hope this sticks in your craw and you choke), a little closure, I’m tossing aside the frozen meat and bringing out patty making.
In the past, I always considered burger making to be carefully forming patties, never pressing on them, etc etc. Making mini meatloafs. To put upon loafs. Hello, carbs. Meet my friend diabetes. Kidding.
A friend of a friend of a friend told me about this wonderful piece of burger exposition: the smash.
Easy peasy.
Smashing!
Things I did wrong:
- Not thin enough. I needed to smash them more. More. MORE. A different spatula would have helped. My usual has long holes in it that leaked burger when I pressed down.
- Prepare fixins beforehand. These suckers cook fast. Greased lightning ahoy. While I was worrying over the camera and pictures, I had forgotten to slice up some onions and cheeses. Woopsie.
- Bought way too big of buns. Seriously. These things are mammoth. (Technically, they were labeled sandwich rolls, but they looked far tastier than the other stuff on the shelf. Same price. Whatever.)
- Not making enough. Six? Who was I kidding?
Nevermind that I ended up taking a bite of the burger before bothering to photograph it. You’ll have to excuse me. I was hungry.
Oct
03
2009
Green chile stew.
Hot mama!
Fairy tales and unicorns put me up to this one. Lawdy. Let me lay down what went into this here bowl of joy.
- 1 lb chicken (dark meat, because it makes my world go ’round)
- 1 medium sweet onion (diced)
- 3 russet potatoes (diced)
- 2 poblano peppers
- 2 jalapeno peppers
- 2 serrano peppers
- 3 cloves garlic
- 14oz can whole peeled tomato
- salt, pepper, cumin, coriander
- white wine
I roasted those lovely peppers in the oven (tomato too, separate pan.) While that was going on, the stove top was rocking it out with browning the chicken and onions. When they looked browned with caramelized goodness, they were punched in the back of the face with the white wine. Let that cook down a bit. Added two-ish cups of water and some (forgive me) chicken boullion, the diced potato, and let it simmer under lid.
Ready peppers. They went from oven to plastic-wrapped-bowl, to steam for a bit before cleaning. Stems, skids, and seeds went down the garbage disposal, with the lovely, mushy pepper tossed in the pot. Mashed up the roasted bell pepper shortly after, and into the pot it went. Seasoned up with some salt, pepper, cumin, and coriander, and let it all mellow out. The potato starch thickened up the pot very, very nicely.
Very nicely.
Time to nosh. Cheers, surlyman.
Sep
23
2009
Calzone.
Mystery filling.
In this case, I filled it with a mixture of bell pepper, button mushroom, and artichoke heart. It’s got a good handful of ricotta and mozzarella cheese. It’s glued together with a nice little blender sauce built from a can of tomato puree, carrot, celery, onion, and garlic. Lots of black and cayenne pepper to give it some kick.
Did the dough up in the bread machine, since, well, I’m tired of doing all of that by hand. My usual Sunday pizza dough mixture translated nicely to the machine. I mixed in a bit of paprika for the hell of it. Why not.
- Pizza dough
- Random fillings
- Folded, sealed, and vented
- Baked 15-20 minutes on a hot stone at or around 425 until delicious
Results? Success. They always are. I haven’t eaten one yet, though. These poor boys get cut up and frozen for dinner at a later date. Each pie is two meals, and each batch ends up with four pies. The leftover veggies and sauce were perfect for a big bowl of pasta, which I had instead. Good combination, recommended.
Sep
19
2009
Tiny kitchen.
My kitchen is 7′x7′. 7′x3′ of it is floor space. There are two 2′ spans of counter top. This, my friends, is a tiny kitchen.
That is, I might add, not enough.
The place didn’t come with an overhead mounted microwave unit. Want a microwave? It takes up one half of the available counter space. I tried that out for a month or so. I don’t think I cooked much of anything out of sheer frustration. Solution? Get rid of it.
Not entirely, that is. Fortunately, adjacent to the kitchen is another 7′x7′ room that isn’t filled with major appliances or plumbing. A set of shelves bolted to the wall and, hey’o, the microwave is no longer in the way of everything Jesus loves.
Coffee machine? Might as well make use of that otherwise useless ‘bar’ infront of the sink. Beverage central.
Blank wall rendered useless by the opening of the refrigerator door? There’s a few convenient wall studs in there. If I can get my hands on an appropriate piece of hardware, it looks like a great place to have a pot rack.
Still, freeing up the counter space in the kitchen… it’s just not a lot to begin with. I also had some trouble finding a place to fit my chest freezer (tiny fridge-freezers are never enough for me.) Fortunately…
…it makes a great work surface with some large cutting boards or sheets. Lots of room to roll out the pizza dough or pasta noodles.
More as it comes to me.
Sep
18
2009
Missing ingredient.
Apparently, my local grocer sucks. Surprise, surprise. I took a ride a few miles north to a decidedly super food peddler and found what I needed: a can of cranberry concoction for the pilgrim burger. Success.
Here’s to hoping the sandwich doesn’t suck.
Sep
12
2009
Steak Fries.
Steak Fries.
Saturday, Donny, is Shabbos, the Jewish day of rest. That means that I don’t work, I don’t get in a car, I don’t fucking ride in a car, I don’t pick up the phone, I don’t turn on the oven, and I sure as shit don’t fucking roll! Shomer shabbos! -Walter Sobchak
This is sure to turn surlyman’s gut. No burger again! Instead, a lovely plate o’ potato as a go with. What’dya’call’em… home fries? Steak fries? Big ol’ potato wedges. These were drowned in olive oil and smothered in my spice cabinet. Roasted them over the fires of heaven.
Good.
Stuff.
Come to think of it, these might be pretty good on a burger. Just imagine it. Do it.
Sep
10
2009
33 – Biscuitburger.
Is that biscuits and gravy?
Now this is just getting silly. Is that biscuits and gravy… on a burger?
Yes.
- Diced biscuits
- Sausage gravy
- Nom nom nom
It’s handheld heaven. It’s also the messiest thing I’ve done so far. It is wise to let the gravy cool off just a touch (but not enough to congeal) so that when it runs down your fingers while eating, it won’t burn. Trust me, this is going to get gravy everywhere. After the burger is gone, then you have to eat your hands, because they’re so tasty. I’m having to post this burger by henpecking keys with my nose, since all I have left are nubs. Arrrr!
Sep
09
2009
32 – Gallopintoburger.
Spicy.
A recommendation from the Reverend… the gallo pinto burger. Or at least, near enough. I left the rice out, so it’s all beans, baby.
- Black beans
- Onion
- Garlic
- Cilantro
- Surly’s jalapenos
Simmered all that over the stove (started off with frying it up in some bacon fat, mmm) and shoved that bean patty onto a bun. Marvelous stuff. It’s a bit like getting double meat on your burger, there.
Sep
08
2009
31 – Frenched toast.
I spy... a fork and knife?
Well. Now I’ve done it. I made a burger that necessitates the use of cutlery. Shoot, I don’t even know what compelled me to do it. I had a nice platter of french toast sitting there, and I said to myself… give me eight minutes and a slice of swiss, and I’ll turn that sucker into a burger.
Done.
It could only get more french by stuffing a ground horse up in there.
I probably won’t do this one again, but I know what I will do. Forget beef. Make that a sausage patty, and you’ve got some victory right there. Do it.