tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87884091501603752162024-02-18T19:29:50.230-08:00Brooklyn Girls CookingWe're Brooklyn girls on a mission to make cooking easy, fun, and delicious!KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.comBlogger186125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-59924368157538227912017-03-20T18:47:00.000-07:002017-03-20T18:47:12.523-07:00One-Skillet Dinner: Chicken With Napa Cabbage and Bacon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tXNaQQD_UPTEll14PLGgCwJ7dFCHsjPiU26gEn_NjXA1OjmgDO3YITbcx_tZZ0ZoQpr1pqlUmVGCnnlp_SvK6ZBjUxdqfg1ZebEvRG2jtZDxSpYq6c31PoGdW2HIBFHj6cWgw0o-vpM/s1600/chickencabbage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tXNaQQD_UPTEll14PLGgCwJ7dFCHsjPiU26gEn_NjXA1OjmgDO3YITbcx_tZZ0ZoQpr1pqlUmVGCnnlp_SvK6ZBjUxdqfg1ZebEvRG2jtZDxSpYq6c31PoGdW2HIBFHj6cWgw0o-vpM/s1600/chickencabbage.jpg" /></a></div>
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This is basically a riff off the <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2013/09/lettuce-chicken-yeah-thats-right.html" target="new">Lettuce Chicken</a> recipe with a couple of variations—most salient, the use of—wait for it—<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Napa_cabbage" target="new">Napa cabbage</a> in lieu of lettuce. It is a quick (~30 minutes) one-dish weeknight supper, and while I generally consider “low-carb” to be a pejorative, rather than a positive term, it is that too, if you’re into that sort of thing.
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I laid about <b>7 strips of bacon to cook on medium-low in a large skillet</b>. As it did, I <b>chopped about 1 ½ pounds of boneless, skinless chicken breasts</b> (slicing through the center to halve the thickness, then once length-wise, then 3-4 times width-wise) into pieces approximately the dimensions of my thumbs (mind you, I am a 5'3" woman, so don’t necessarily base this on your own thumbs—I’d say to think of the orange man with his tiny hands on the button, but you might lose your appetite) and <b>dredged them in flour seasoned with kosher salt, garlic powder, and dried herbs</b>.
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I set the bacon on a piece of cardboard (or use a brown paper bag or paper towels) to drain the grease, then poured the bacon grease from the pan, leaving some residue. I turned the heat to low to melt <b>2 TBSP butter</b>, returned it to medium, and nestled the chicken into the pan piece by piece, shaking off the excess flour. I <b>cooked until golden brown</b> on bottom (meanwhile chopping <b>1/2 a Napa cabbage head</b>, cored, into roughly chewing-gum-stick-sized strips), then flipped and cooked the other side to match, and then removed the chicken to a plate.
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I added <b>another 1 TBSP butter</b> to the pan, tossed in the cabbage, sprinkled with kosher salt, and tossed with tongs; after a few minutes I splashed in <b>a bottlecap full of cider vinegar</b>, tossed again, and covered the pan. I chopped the bacon loosely. After the cabbage had cooked a couple minutes (leafy ends of cabbage should be wilty but not mushy; base ends should have a bit of give but still be crisp), add back the chicken and bacon plus a <b>sprinkling of fresh thyme leaves</b>, toss to mix, re-cover, lower heat to medium-low, and cook a couple more minutes.
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Serve by itself or with rice (<i>*cough*</i>perhaps of the a-Roni variety<i>*cough*</i>).
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-15994564126668201082017-02-28T19:58:00.000-08:002017-02-28T19:58:35.711-08:00Jalapeno Mashed Potatoes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCikp-Nczyg9DrlTu66J96EoBaZ6kautigLrayvWvQ9YZtmoR99jMuX4cESw4iP5dLaO1_8gMi1uvFENfBOyIiOnSfaZY1CcAXjUEEXqllxl5DITlJo6vthnK-FI1jXd5GG_CcUwIHBwA/s1600/jalapenomash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCikp-Nczyg9DrlTu66J96EoBaZ6kautigLrayvWvQ9YZtmoR99jMuX4cESw4iP5dLaO1_8gMi1uvFENfBOyIiOnSfaZY1CcAXjUEEXqllxl5DITlJo6vthnK-FI1jXd5GG_CcUwIHBwA/s1600/jalapenomash.jpg" /></a></div><p align="left">
Obvi, gentle reader, there ain’t nothing wrong with straight-up meat and potatoes. But sometimes you just wanna switch things up a bit. Especially when you’re using a cheapo cut of beef, as I did the other night. I was grilling some none-too-tender, none-too-flavorful “steaks” (this is what I get for cheating on my Key Foods with a slightly closer, vastly inferior market) that had been halfheartedly rubbed in prepared churrasco seasoning, and figured that adding a spicy kick of jalapeno to the mashed potatoes would up the meal’s flavor profile—or simply sear our taste buds so that each gruelingly chewed bite of the meat would seem like a relief and not a letdown. Win-win, amirite?
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I used <b>2 large new (purple) potatoes</b>, peeling just enough to carve out any pockmarks and brown spots but leaving most of the skin on. For expediency and consistency’s sake, I roughly chopped them into cube-ish (not to be confused with Cubist) pieces and added them to a <b>pot of salted water</b> that I brought to a boil, then lowered to a vigorous simmer until the potatoes were fork-tender, maybe 15 minutes. (For mashed potatoes, I would always err on the side of cooking longer; it’s pretty hard to overcook them, but devastating if you undercook them.)
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After draining the cooked potatoes, I added <b>a pinch of sea salt, 2 Tbsp. butter, a dollop of sour cream, and maybe 1 Tbsp. jalapenos</b> that I had <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/02/blistered-hot-peppers.html" target="new">blistered</a>, peeled, cut into strips, jarred in olive oil, fished out of the jar, and diced. I mashed the mix together just with a straight hand masher, so the jalapenos broke up some but remained relatively intact; you could also use an immersion blender or food processor to puree them with butter and/or olive oil if you wanted a smoother, mellower, even-er taste/consistency.
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My adopted son thought that the potatoes were too spicy and that the leathery half-inch-thick steak was too rare. My man liked the steak, but the potatoes were a little too feisty for him as well. Whatever. I ate the steak and potatoes with some radishes that had been salted, tossed in olive oil, and cooked in the toaster oven just enough to soften them; and some raw avocado slices spritzed with lime juice. The (honestly, fairly tough and tasteless) meat ended up being kind of a foil for the flavors and textures of the accoutrements, rather than the other way around. And there was nothing wrong with that.
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-22596125627819348752017-02-28T19:05:00.000-08:002017-02-28T19:05:09.777-08:00Spinach-Cheese Crepes With Bacon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizUfYTqVhd6sx-CpvgQfKwLtTbNpWL2AGht5fwRBwLQlrHG1LNMgTWFXmPHEG-jOy_lyidsnJYnq1tmJMK3q8Z0DUbZVq2lvg2eFw4dYRusZV5eT8Wmhn3OOVgDFEmM9H5eXc0kLqoMH8/s1600/spinachcrepes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizUfYTqVhd6sx-CpvgQfKwLtTbNpWL2AGht5fwRBwLQlrHG1LNMgTWFXmPHEG-jOy_lyidsnJYnq1tmJMK3q8Z0DUbZVq2lvg2eFw4dYRusZV5eT8Wmhn3OOVgDFEmM9H5eXc0kLqoMH8/s1600/spinachcrepes.jpg" /></a></div>
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Gentle reader, remember how I <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/02/bacon-wrapped-chicken-breasts-with.html" target="new">told you that I made spinach-cheese sauce</a> … and that I would tell you what I did with it … and that it would involve bacon? Well, let this post go on the record as proof that I do not lie to you.
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This crepe main dish is the latest episode in my ongoing quest to negate any and all health benefits involved in eating green vegetables. Yes, I actually took spinach and mushrooms and made them as cholesterolicious as a croque monsieur. Look, I had some bits of Swiss and some other sharp cheese that was getting crusty around the edges, so what else COULD I do? As the French, who invented crepes and cheesy sauces (I think) would say, <i>je ne regrette rien.</i> (That’s French for “sorry, not sorry.”)
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I premade the sauce by cooking some <b>bacon</b> on medium until tender, not crispy, in a saucepot, and draining off the grease but leaving the wee brown bits. I then added <b>half a stick of butter</b> and once melted and bubbly, stirred in a chopped <b>half shallot</b> and <b>4 mushrooms</b> sliced thin, with those slices then halved.
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Once the shallot and mushroom were softened, I added some <b>flour</b> and turned up the heat to medium-high, using a whisk to help form the roux (which is another French word, meaning “ze stuff that makes ze cheese sauce not be lumpy,” BTW). Once it had some brownness to it, I whisked in about <b>a cup of milk</b> (having informed my adopted son that I was using the milk he bought and he would have to buy more if he wanted Cookie Crisp), followed by maybe <b>a cup worth of minced Swiss-and-miscellaneous chees</b>e.
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It started getting pretty sticky and viscous, so I lowered the heat and added <b>half a bag of chopped frozen spinach</b> straight from the freezer, figuring (correctly) that the water content of undefrosted frozen spinach would for once be an asset and not a liability, to thin the consistency. I also added the <b>juice of half a lemon, a spritz of white wine</b>, and the <b>grating of fresh nutmeg</b> that I consider a must in any dish involving cheese/cream sauce or spinach, and especially both.
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I cooked this down a bit, whisking, and then turned off the heat and let it sit in the fridge overnight because I was going to reheat it the next night. If you want to use this the same night, keep whisking on medium-low till the cheese is evenly melted.
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Fast-forward to the crepes. I whisked together <b>3 eggs, 1 cup milk, 1 cup flour, and a pinch of salt</b> all at once, using a spout-rim bowl so as to easily and non-drippily pour batter into the butter-greased pan. The pan I use is a heated small nonstick frying pan with curved edges, so that I can pick up the pan and swish it around by the handle for an even crepe shape. For each crepe, I keep <b>a ramekin of melted butter</b> by the side of the burner and basically dump the whole thing into the pan over mediun heat, swish it around to coat the surface and sides, and pour the remainder back into the ramekin. Once it gets a bit bubbly-sizzly, I pour in the batter and also swish this around to coat, then let it rest until the edges start to get a bit crisped and use a plastic spatula to nudge them off the pan sides before digging under to flip the crepe. (Your first crepe might be the sacrificial lamb as you calibrate the heat level and amount of batter. Don’t stress. Remember: There’s no use crying over spilled milk; you can’t make crepes without breaking some eggs; and, um … some other motivational metaphorical-yet-literal failure-consolation expression involving wasted flour. There must be at least one in some cultural tradition or another, amirite, gentle reader?
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I did these one by one, leaving the finished crepes to snuggle in a pile in the toaster oven, encased by loosely tented tinfoil. Then I added the reheated-on-low filling, folded/rolled the crepes around it, and sprinkled with the bacon pieces. I garnished the dish with <b>arugula</b>, because greens are good for you. (The arugula was an afterthought, so I didn’t have time to consider how to make it not good for you.)
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However, overall this decadent dish succeeded spectacularly in converting spinach into something unhealthy. This would be a very impressive brunch dish; you could fill the crepes in advance and reheat them nestled in a ceramic or glass baking dish.
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This rich spinach-cheese sauce would also be great <b>baked in a lasagna, folded into a quiche, tucked inside a tomato omelet, tossed with clams and linguini, or served atop split baked potatoes</b> (all with or without bacon/pancetta). Or you could up the spinach ratio by using the whole bag, and serve it alongside steak as <b>creamed spinach</b>—a classic side that is an inspiration to everyone who has ever resolved to render green vegetables irredeemably unhealthy. <i>Tout m'est égal.</i> Bon appetit!
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-77951308964677157402017-02-23T18:13:00.002-08:002017-02-23T18:16:23.768-08:00Bacon-Wrapped Chicken Breasts With Roast Brussels-Parsnip Hash<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoD7NRLtU4rtsiuhM9bekKDbAPgFMfxTes7bqP7kgOfGJJ6lDUgOY9uRSVyswHMxXK7no-GP7DoMK2_ZuuPtaBLLpU4Tn4qF0Od4nz7RsAYNMMy961noeDVPGcNJT6-wC09ZO79DIbg8/s1600/baconwrappedchx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoD7NRLtU4rtsiuhM9bekKDbAPgFMfxTes7bqP7kgOfGJJ6lDUgOY9uRSVyswHMxXK7no-GP7DoMK2_ZuuPtaBLLpU4Tn4qF0Od4nz7RsAYNMMy961noeDVPGcNJT6-wC09ZO79DIbg8/s1600/baconwrappedchx.jpg" /></a></div>
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This is a quick and easy weeknight meal that can be cooked all on one foil-lined baking sheet for easy cleanup. Both my man and my 26-year-old adopted son inhaled it in a hush reminiscent of the <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/the-silence-of-lamb-roast.html" target="new">Silence of the Lamb</a> (well, my adopted son did not have any of the veg, obvi. As I type this, he is balancing out the protein with a bowl of Cookie Crisp).
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I took <b>two boneless, skinless chicken breasts</b> and sliced them in half, pounded them thin (you can use the bottom of a frying pan if you don’t have a meat-tenderizing hoocher), and marinated them overnight in a mix of <b>olive oil, salt, thyme, Dijon mustard</b> (I’m really working the packets from the cafeteria, gentle reader), and a bit of<b> dried sage</b>.
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The next night, I <b>preheated the oven to 400°</b>, lined aforementioned baking sheet with foil, and <b>wrapped a slice of bacon around each of the four pieces of chicken</b>. Full disclosure: I didn’t have a baking sheet large enough to fit the veg as well, so I popped this into the oven and prepped another foil-lined sheet for the hash.
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I <b>peeled 1 small parsnip and diced it into very small cubes</b>, like sugar-cube-size max, since I knew the sprouts would cook faster. Then I <b>halved the Brussels sprouts</b>, tossed the veggies onto the pan, chopped <b>1/2 shallot</b>, grated some <b>lemon zest</b>, squirted some <b>lemon juice</b>, sprinkled some <b>kosher salt</b>, splashed some <b>olive oil</b>, and squeezed—wait for it—<b>a packet of Dijon mustard</b>. I tossed the mix all together with my fingers, and put that in the oven as well.
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I cooked this all about 30 minutes; halfway through, I tipped the liquid from the chicken into the veg pan and tossed the veg again. After that half hour, I let the chicken rest at room temp for a few, scattered some <b>thyme leaves</b> on the hash, and served.
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Like I said, this was a huge hit with the boys, their silences only punctuated by phrases of pleased palates such as “Fuck, this is good.” This was so easy, I managed to make hard-boiled eggs for tomorrow’s lunch and spinach-cheese sauce for tomorrow’s dinner in the time it took to finish cooking. I will definitely be putting this dish into regular rotation … and stay tuned for the fate of the spinach-cheese sauce! (Spoiler alert: It, too, involves bacon.)
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-68622714963491511922017-02-22T19:17:00.000-08:002017-02-22T19:17:23.969-08:00One-Pan Pork-Sausage-Cabbage Saute (a.k.a. Pseudo-Choucroute)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCgFX4x3G-sdDJXhakPN1zTrfJ5IbCnbk_D-hiOJxPPRnIdPhIcWZllMIZsh7runCAE22CxFISgCyyhdeYYNQHwLiTAdMdZ5LbAHTPqdkcj6uU9dabijp97gFytNvk_eQDnpkHPvk_NA/s1600/choucroute.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCgFX4x3G-sdDJXhakPN1zTrfJ5IbCnbk_D-hiOJxPPRnIdPhIcWZllMIZsh7runCAE22CxFISgCyyhdeYYNQHwLiTAdMdZ5LbAHTPqdkcj6uU9dabijp97gFytNvk_eQDnpkHPvk_NA/s1600/choucroute.jpg" /></a></div>
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This dish, inspired by the fact that I had in the fridge half a cabbage, half a red onion, some Dijon mustard packets from the cafeteria at work (because, gentle reader, I am now gainfully employed!), and three sausages of different types left over from dinner at a German restaurant (where I could afford to eat, because I am now gainfully employed!), is kind of like an Ignorant American Fusion take on <a href="http://www.seriouseats.com/2017/01/how-to-make-choucroute-garnie-alsatian-sauerkraut-pork.html" target="new">choucroute</a>—except that uses sauerkraut, which is a bit much. It’s very easy and quick and takes only, as you may have gathered from the post title, one pan. Even factoring in the time it took to grocery-shop for the pork chops, I had everything ready within about an hour of returning from my place of gainful employment. (Did I mention I am now gainfully employed, gentle reader?)
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<b>This would serve 3 or 4 people, but of course I made it for 2. There were leftovers. Lots of leftovers. Sandwiches will be had.
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Start by melting <b>2-3 Tbsp. butter</b> and a <b>splash of olive oil</b> over medium heat in a large wide pan, then adding <b>3 packets of Dijon mustard</b>, about <b>1 Tbsp kosher salt</b>, pinches of <b>cumin and paprika</b>, and a very wee pinch of <b>cinnamon</b> (these spices are negotiable).
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Drop in <b>2 to 2 ½ pounds of thin-cut bone in pork chops (about 4 big chops)</b>, turn the heat up to medium-high, and brown on both sides.
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Remove the pork to a plate and add some <b>kielbasa-type sausage</b> sliced into coins, I had like 3 links’ worth. Brown this and remove it to another plate.
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Lower the heat to medium and add <b>½ red onion</b>, loosely diced. Cook for about a minute, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon; then add <b>½ a cabbage, loosely chopped</b>; whatever juices have run off the pork; and about <b>1 Tbsp. apple cider vinegar</b> (err on the side of less, you can always add more). Stir this till the cabbage softens a bit, adjusting seasoning as needed—I added another mustard packet—then mix in the sausage.
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Push the mixture to the side of the pan, add 2 of the pork chops, cover them with the mixture, and then add the other 2 chops to the other half of the pan and spread out the cabbage mixture to cover all the pork. This isn’t an exact science, the point is you just want the chops in contact with the pan surface and the cabbage covering them so the meat cooks through without the cabbage getting all wilty.
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Sprinkle some thyme leaves on top (optional). Turn off the heat and let it all rest for a few minutes. Then plate it with the pork atop the cabbage mixture,—perhaps with boiled potatoes tossed in butter and parsley (kinda keeping with the choucroute vibe), or, as I did, with a loaf of crusty bread and some melted garlic butter.
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This was a delicious and hearty meal, and easy to throw together—and even blog about afterward—after a long day of... wait for it ... gainful employment!
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-3046855147664257152017-02-22T19:12:00.001-08:002017-02-22T19:12:06.834-08:00Turkey-Mozzarella Meatloaf<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2-_an2ZtlwDtkmgmOhJeYBjTtTM00ODk77uNstgt0Ndbm5bcxZXdgwHmMrHA35cZmFlFNroTxZ5sUtxXgEDT4Qu4eNSqcnVQpXEMWm7lZNugDghWDsTudhzE3OHPKn7iUgxV7MWC8Hg/s1600/meatloaf2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2-_an2ZtlwDtkmgmOhJeYBjTtTM00ODk77uNstgt0Ndbm5bcxZXdgwHmMrHA35cZmFlFNroTxZ5sUtxXgEDT4Qu4eNSqcnVQpXEMWm7lZNugDghWDsTudhzE3OHPKn7iUgxV7MWC8Hg/s1600/meatloaf2.jpg" /></a></div>
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O hai, gentle reader ... I GOT A JOB!
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Let’s forget <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/adventures-in-semi-homemade-ignorant.html" target="new">all those things I said about the C train</a>. I’m not saying they weren’t valid, because they were. But the important thing is that the C stands for Commuting, as in, TO A JOB. THAT I HAVE. I have had it for a few weeks now, which you may have noticed coincides with my abrupt dropoff in posting frequency. PRIORITIES, PEOPLE.
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So, I'm still committed to home cooking as often as possible, but now when it comes to preparing meals, I just have to be a little more, well, prepared. My newfound <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/search/label/slow%20cooker" target="new">obsession with the slow cooker</a> should serve me well—as should my long-standing propensity for getting dishes ready the night before cooking them.
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To wit: On the first Monday night of my official gainful employment—as in, WITH A JOB, THAT I HAVE—I prepared my man a Tuesday lunch of roast beef and Swiss cheese on a bulkie roll with <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/leftovers-love-zucchini-pickles_25.html" target="new">zucchini pickles</a>; a bag of chips; and a can of Red Bull (I know, gross; <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/all-these-and-bag-of-chips.html" target="new">we've already gone over this</a>, gentle reader). I also prepared my own Tuesday lunch of leftover <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/spicy-carrot-bisque.html" target="new">carrot bisque</a> and a tortilla wrap with roast beef, iceberg lettuce, and horseradish mayo. I can make my own iced tea at work, because they have tea. And ice. Living the dream!
</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2IHXgOH2dW-IUawFhiMFzUgAECUxuBxsGRp6FFnSbzlm3ADTj8ZHXzK5ttqITYzJVf8VvyHtjqwf89VW6tMbEA7dHqgOAWJOO0HOFEDlECvxjUi4gizxSyN_UAcpUcKyGBnX1CY0afA/s1600/meatloaf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2IHXgOH2dW-IUawFhiMFzUgAECUxuBxsGRp6FFnSbzlm3ADTj8ZHXzK5ttqITYzJVf8VvyHtjqwf89VW6tMbEA7dHqgOAWJOO0HOFEDlECvxjUi4gizxSyN_UAcpUcKyGBnX1CY0afA/s1600/meatloaf.jpg" /></a></div>
<p align="left">
While I heated up the last of the leftover <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/slow-cooker-pork-ramen-ignorant.html" target="new">pork ramen</a> to have that for my Monday dinner (OMG IT WAS STILL SO GOOD OMFG I WANT TO MAKE IT ALL THE TIME), I combined a mixture of: <b>1 lb. ground turkey; 2 oz. fresh mozzarella, cubed; 4 oz. mushrooms and ½ red pepper, diced; 5 crumbled saltine crackers; 2 TBSP Worcestershire sauce; 2 packets of ketchup; garlic powder, and kosher salt. </b>
</p>
<p align="left">
I kneaded this all together, patted it down into a <b>loaf pan</b>, and left it in the fridge overnight. (You could also skip the saltines and form it into burger patties and fry them.) Tuesday, I covered it with mozzarella cheese and cooked it in a <b>400° oven for 30 minutes</b> until it was gooey and bubbly, accompanied by some farfalle (bow tie) noodles with broccoli and olive oil, for a hearty yet healthy and easy meal.
</p>
<p align="left">
Funemployment, I have officially bidden you farewell, and welcomed the Year of the Rooster, which arrived with glad tidings of fun <i>and</i> employment! And also meatloaf.
</p>
KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-78253932519606808422017-02-11T05:31:00.001-08:002017-02-11T05:31:21.538-08:00Blistered Hot Peppers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHWs_c5ZaxkWyDiid7plPPZQv_YFHRw02qX4qekMOO4V05tA7I2DV6dT3-TkulxDnOK5cdZumA0ZpTQOiu-3dwuIDMRi7XRqI-4J991xfO-PmgrcdSpfmPKImmj0o3Z-8jIncDltt3q0/s1600/blisteredpeppers.jpg" /></div>
<p align="left">
Gentle reader, a large part of the reason that Brooklyn Girls Cooking exists is that for Brooklyn girls, going out to eat is highly overpriced and annoying.
</p>
<p align="left">
Every. Single. Restaurant has an appetizer selection that will set you back like $10 for some <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2016/12/quick-dill-horseradish-pickles-100.html" target="new">artisanal pickles</a> or a single deviled egg or blistered shiseido peppers. And don’t get me started on the hour-long wait times, which occur in large part because people have to tweet and Instagram their food before they start eating it. Okay, fine, I do that too, but I do it at home with things I’ve cooked. That was my whole point.
</p>
<p align="left">
Well, anyway. I was recently gifted with a pack of peppers (which purported, per the package, to be “serruno,” which may or may not have meant “serrano”), and tossed them with kosher salt and olive oil on a foil-lined baking sheet and roasted them at 400° until the skins cracked and got charred in spots. In other words, blistered.
</p>
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<p align="left">
You could do these with the standard shiseido or with jalapenos. You can eat them as is, perhaps with some sort of dipping sauce, or you can peel the skins, de-seed them, and store the resulting strips (no need to cut, they just kind of tear apart in your hands) in a jar with olive oil. Make sure the oil fully covers the peppers and they’ll keep for weeks.
</p>
<p align="left">
Then go out to a restaurant, wait in line for an hour, and treat yourself to a $10 deviled egg. You’ve earned it.
</p>
KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-40696820636558022312017-02-11T05:05:00.000-08:002017-02-11T05:32:14.808-08:00Ribs. Beer. Boom.<p align="left">
Yesterday morning I woke up to find that my man and his friend who had crashed on our couch (this is a different friend from the one who usually sleeps on our couch, but who’s counting) had, the previous evening, left two almost-full bottles of Corona undrunken when they—wait for it—crashed on the couch. (YES, "UNDRUNKEN" IS A WORD, I JUST MADE IT A WORD.)
</p>
<p align="left">
Gentle reader, I largely do not live my life in accordance with societal conventions, or ethical standards, or...well, probably the less said on this topic the better—but I do have one inviolable rule governing my household and existence in general: YOU DO NOT WASTE BEER. So, I did what anyone else would do in this situation, and dumped the leftover beer into the slow cooker along with some bone-in spare ribs (sprinkled with salt) and a squirt of barbecue sauce.
</p>
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<p align="left">
I timed it to cook for 8 hours on low; then it sat on warm for a couple of hours, because happy hour; then I served the ribs with creamy mashed potatoes and some chopped bok choi that I just cooked in salted boiling water for a couple minutes, because you want an unadorned green to balance the richness of ribs and potatoes.
</p>
<p align="left">
Gentle reader, you will notice there are no photos of this dish. That is because it was consumed in less time than it takes to launch the camera app on my phone. It was melty, falling-off-the-bone delicious.
</p>
<p align="left">
I saved the liquid the ribs had cooked in, in order to do something unholy with it, because technically it was still beer. Unctuous pork-fat-infused beer. [<i>Cue Homer Simpson gargling noise</i>] When I decide what heinous thing to do with this liquid, you'll be the first to know, gentle reader.
</p>
<p align="left">
The moral of this story? Never. Waste. Beer. Even if you've left it undrunken.
</p>KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-79379525974500159522017-01-30T19:58:00.000-08:002017-01-30T19:58:27.159-08:00Buffalo Chicken Boxes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVbqN8seMLNuOdZlvBKuKujeqh0e2ery5yNQVm5G0RDbsNwgxE2elIfBO02NzJlJ7QlZM-1yOfrYeQQgdyxKIFXLiCynOufAVg_iC5EiICHv63xa3NcOETj6tIRZOXf45RIjelTSBsa0/s1600/buffalochickenbox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVbqN8seMLNuOdZlvBKuKujeqh0e2ery5yNQVm5G0RDbsNwgxE2elIfBO02NzJlJ7QlZM-1yOfrYeQQgdyxKIFXLiCynOufAVg_iC5EiICHv63xa3NcOETj6tIRZOXf45RIjelTSBsa0/s1600/buffalochickenbox.jpg" /></a></div>
<p align="left">
Yeah, this was a weird thing that happened, gentle reader. Look, I figured the Pats are probably practicing for the <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/search/label/SuperBowl" target="new">Super Bowl</a>, so I should too.
</p>
<p align="left">
So I made a trial run of my fave Super Bowl dish, <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2013/02/buffalo-chicken-dip.html" target="new">buffalo chicken dip</a>—using the leftover <b>shredded chicken</b> from recently documented <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/chipotle-chicken-tacos.html" target="new">chipotle tacos</a>; a squirt of <b>sriracha</b>; and a couple ounces each of <b>cream cheese, crumbled gorgonzola, and shredded jack.</b> I know. Weird.
</p>
<p align="left">
Then I lined one of these weird little box-shaped dishes that my mom got me for Christmas a couple of years ago with a <b>flour tortilla</b>, and then I added maybe 1/4 cup of the chicken mix and crimped the tortilla edges over it.
</p>
<p align="left">
Then I baked it in the toaster oven at <b>350° for maybe 15-20 minutes</b> until the crimped edges of the tortilla had nice brown highlights, and plopped some sour cream and salsa onto it.
</p>
<p align="left">
I took a risk on this weird little box, but it turned out pretty darn delicious. I can only hope that my other Super Bowl boxes will pay off like this one.
</p>
KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-33997637576204117642017-01-28T10:50:00.000-08:002017-01-28T10:53:12.458-08:00Chipotle Chicken Tacos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIgkQP4qLRxjXkfQ7HeDiHXkjuM5yGuczjPUskX4RPOmgb9e6BKP5DErADNbIg_hcYKeK__XqbXCVgX0mo4SpjLoCttbxgfgA6k3SaZQ69acxvLxP8_8Nml0upuQ03cOjd89aAIB50DhA/s1600/chipotlechicken.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIgkQP4qLRxjXkfQ7HeDiHXkjuM5yGuczjPUskX4RPOmgb9e6BKP5DErADNbIg_hcYKeK__XqbXCVgX0mo4SpjLoCttbxgfgA6k3SaZQ69acxvLxP8_8Nml0upuQ03cOjd89aAIB50DhA/s1600/chipotlechicken.jpg" /></a></div>
<p align="left">
Gentle reader, although both apply to this recipe, I have declared a moratorium on the “slow cooker” and the “Ignorant American Fusion” post title devices because it was just getting tired. I need a slow-cooker-vention.
</p>
<p align="left">
Here’s what I added to the pot, in sequential/bottom-to-top order:
</p>
<ul compact type="disc">
<li>2 split bone-in chicken breasts, skin removed/fat trimmed, sprinkled with kosher salt and cumin</li>
<li>1 green pepper, diced </li>
<li>2 chipotles canned in adobo sauce, plus a splash of the adobo</li>
<li>1/2 lime, cut in two</li>
<li>A few stems of cilantro sprigs</li>
<li>1 small can tomato sauce</li>
<li>2 cups chicken stock </li>
<li>1/2 bottle Corona</li>
</ul>
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<p align="left">
Then I <b>programmed the slow cooker to LOW for 7 hours</b>, feeling a bit like a mad scientist bending technology to my will.
</p>
<p align="left">
After the aforementioned hours were up and the slow cooker had magically transitioned to the WARM setting (God, I hope it does not become self-aware and take over), I let the mixture cool to room temp. I <b>shredded the chicken</b>—BE VERY CAREFUL TO REMOVE ALL THE BONES—and <b>mixed the meat, the green and chipotle peppers, and about 2 cups of strained liquid, together in a saucepan and reheated it</b>. I reserved the 2 additional cups of liquid in the fridge (full disclosure: I used this liquid, not pure chicken stock, in the <a href="https://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/spicy-carrot-bisque.html" target="new">Spicy Carrot Bisque</a>).
</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ikWVqX93_-eK5iCuB04i7gfYyCZD2bS-qm1IgLpeQ2Klg8ooAy2gWRT6wwquYiincFqM2ikYTzTDjsA21etnmAzaFcqaA7_mcAh_0g_XpnghjL4VferI5Hw3uS2ELp21kOh2mOvaCe4/s1600/chipotlechickentacos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ikWVqX93_-eK5iCuB04i7gfYyCZD2bS-qm1IgLpeQ2Klg8ooAy2gWRT6wwquYiincFqM2ikYTzTDjsA21etnmAzaFcqaA7_mcAh_0g_XpnghjL4VferI5Hw3uS2ELp21kOh2mOvaCe4/s1600/chipotlechickentacos.jpg" /></a></div>
<p align="left">
I served the chicken with warmed flour tortillas, grated jack cheese, sour cream, sliced avocado and radish, and homemade salsa. Naturally, you could use all manner of accoutrements (salsa verde and cotija cheese come to mind). Happy Taco Whatever-Day!
</p>
KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-60382623261061715712017-01-26T18:26:00.000-08:002017-01-26T18:26:01.929-08:00Spicy Carrot Bisque
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmZNLW_S2ydet70L3ekC9wQrpMEMz3gvzHLcOGXdsXthjMWCRb94Sw3zRwmmV1L8Q4M27MMPZ5CVxvIarrgfl0hwCQIH5oHgjf0RqA-wNqgisWQjkfis-LngQA-2Z3Ee2SLsUecm8C5k/s1600/carrotbisque.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmZNLW_S2ydet70L3ekC9wQrpMEMz3gvzHLcOGXdsXthjMWCRb94Sw3zRwmmV1L8Q4M27MMPZ5CVxvIarrgfl0hwCQIH5oHgjf0RqA-wNqgisWQjkfis-LngQA-2Z3Ee2SLsUecm8C5k/s1600/carrotbisque.jpg" /></a></div>
<p align="left">
Gentle reader, last weekend my friend Martie overbought at the <a href="https://www.grownyc.org/greenmarket/brooklyn-grand-army-plaza" target="new">Grand Army Plaza greenmarket</a>—as one does, because everything looks so exciting—and since she was going on a trip, she had me over for a delicious dinner and sent me home with produce that I promised to give a good home. (There was also some amazing cheese that does not figure into this post, but I felt I should acknowledge it.)
</p>
<p align="left">
There were <b>4 thick stubby carrots</b> that I thought would work well in soup form, especially if given a little heat, in this cold weather. Also, I too had some excess in my fridge, in the form of 3 containers of sour cream, because whenever I go to the store I forget whether I have sour cream in the fridge and I buy more. So, I made this REALLY delicious bisque.
</p>
<p align="left">
Melt <b>½ stick butter</b> in a saucepan and add <b>½ yellow onion</b>, chopped. <b>Cook over medium heat, stirring. </b>
</p>
<p align="left">
When softened slightly, add carrots, cut into half-coin shapes, and sprinkle with <b>kosher salt</b>.
</p>
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<p align="left">
<b>Grate fresh nutmeg</b> onto the carrot mixture. Continue to cook over medium heat, stirring.
</p>
<p align="left">
Optional: Add the white part of one <b>bok choi stem</b>, diced. (You may recall that I recently used bok choi in my <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/slow-cooker-pork-ramen-ignorant.html" target="new">pork ramen</a>; I had more to use up. Excess—don't waste it!)
</p>
<p align="left">
When everything is softened, add <b>2 cups chicken (or vegetable) stock, 2 cups water, the juice of ½ lemon, and 2 inch-ish pieces of dried chile de arbol</b> or another dried chile pepper with some heat. <b>Raise burner heat to high, bring just to a boil, and then turn heat to medium/medium-high-ish and give it a good stir.</b>
</p>
<p align="left">
<b>Cook, stirring occasionally and gradually adding more water</b> as needed to keep the veggies well covered (I probably added at least 2 more cups), until the wooden spoon you’re using to stir can smush a sample carrot against the side of the pot as easily as Mariska Hargitay would flatten a perp against a wall on <i>SVU</i>.
</p>
<p align="left">
Then turn off the heat and <b>puree the whole mixture with an immersion blender, increasing speed incrementally, until it’s velvety and smooth</b>. Feel free to add some more water at this stage too; just do it a little at a time so you don’t make it overly watery.
</p>
<p align="left">
Add about <b>½ cup sour cream</b> and pulse that into the mixture until the velvetiness has increased twofold, for a total VL (velvetiness level) of 200. (This is not a real measure, gentle reader. I’m just messing with you.) <b>Taste and add more salt as needed, and/or something like paprika or cayenne if you want a bit more kick.</b>
</p>
<p align="left">
Optional, but highly recommended to balance the heat and further increase velvetiness: <b>Toss in some cilantro leaves and puree until they’re just flecks.</b> At this point your VL should be about 300. (Again, gentle reader, I’m just messing with you. Don’t freak out.)
</p>
<p align="left">
This soup came out amazing and could be doctored with other kinds of spices and/or herbs, heavy cream instead of sour cream, the addition of some parsnip to the carrot, or whatever floats your bisque. You could also <b>float in the bisque some croutons, crushed bits of bacon, or chives</b>. Hell, you could float any number of things in this soup and it would still be January-belly-warming and deliiiisssshusss. Here’s to overbuying food (but not wasting it)!
</p>
KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-38648328987054405582017-01-25T11:24:00.000-08:002017-01-25T11:24:30.497-08:00Leftovers Love: Zucchini Pickles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVo4ZNkrvn4zShzXNovxABa9zKLVhufnMeqc-igd4wz587KmLVl9ubM-1kC0pL_s4ZpPt0AG8VwMlJzgsL0W-BZKitD9MKH3sGjoiI48-3RsJdgEvvyhQJp3Wb3rVuYwoHkHbul6LGygw/s1600/zucchinipickles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVo4ZNkrvn4zShzXNovxABa9zKLVhufnMeqc-igd4wz587KmLVl9ubM-1kC0pL_s4ZpPt0AG8VwMlJzgsL0W-BZKitD9MKH3sGjoiI48-3RsJdgEvvyhQJp3Wb3rVuYwoHkHbul6LGygw/s1600/zucchinipickles.jpg" /></a></div>
<p align="left">
These pickles, which you got a peek of recently in <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/please-enjoy-some-sandwich-porn.html" target="new">sandwich porn</a>, were made by simply slicing up a small zucchini that I had not used in my <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/zucchini-onion-sautee.html" target="new">zucchini-onion sautée</a> (they were 3 for $1 at my beloved <a href="https://www.yelp.com/biz/mr-melon-new-york" target="new">Mr. Melon</a>), and plopping the coins into the brine left over from my <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2016/12/quick-dill-horseradish-pickles-100.html" target="new">dill-horseradish (cucumber) pickles</a>. (I made these a couple of weeks ago, so don’t think I used rancid veggies or anything.)
</p>
<p align="left">
They are an excellent addition to sandwiches, as recently documented in the aforementioned porn, and were a hit when I served them as an accoutrement to <b>lamb tacos</b> made with <b>fried scraps of leftover <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/the-silence-of-lamb-roast.html" target="new">lamb roast</a>, jalapeno jack, iceberg lettuce, sour cream, and cilantro on warmed flour tortillas</b>. Sadly, gentle reader, I did not capture a photo of these tacos, as they were devoured too quickly.
</p>
<p align="left">
Spread leftovers love, it’s the Brooklyn way!
</p>
KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-81116630489669968832017-01-24T19:55:00.002-08:002017-01-24T20:01:18.238-08:00Slow-Cooker Pork Ramen, Ignorant American Style<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jjXbOoxb6gkm9olaEliVmOZ1vxdNMXjbYUHmUyTJQ_ie9vkZePJS1WiqPrG2LQKpV5RaCOQ8w_mZ70WU-g9VSVOSoyfm47I807mIgPWsZn6C6pLRLddGC6dUsJJ4Wgil-bcrE69yzQI/s1600/porkramen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jjXbOoxb6gkm9olaEliVmOZ1vxdNMXjbYUHmUyTJQ_ie9vkZePJS1WiqPrG2LQKpV5RaCOQ8w_mZ70WU-g9VSVOSoyfm47I807mIgPWsZn6C6pLRLddGC6dUsJJ4Wgil-bcrE69yzQI/s1600/porkramen.jpg" /></a></div>
<p align="left">
Gentle reader, I do NOT love a rainy night. Not when it’s raining, like, buckets. (Although it <i>is</i> exciting when the storm drains on my street are clogged by litter and the street floods and I can legitimately say I live on waterfront property.)
</p>
<p align="left">
But when life gives you rain, you make comfort food. So I perused a few slow-cooker pork ramen recipes online and then, as is my wont, ignored like 90% of their instructions and mashed up the rest according to my own whim.
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<p align="left">
I added to the slow cooker, in order from bottom to top:
</p>
<ul compact type="disc">
<li><b>2 lbs. country style pork ribs</b>, about 5 pieces (primarily boneless, but those meat-hacking hacks at the Key Food had left a bit of bone on a couple)</li>
<li><b>3 1/2 cups chicken stock</b> (homemade, I might add)</li>
<li><b>2 TBSP Worcester sauce</b> (this sounds ethnically out of place, but it is made with molasses and soy sauce, so not so much)</li>
<li><b>1 TBSP cider vinegar</b> (this sounds ethnically out of place, because I didn’t feel like springing for a whole bottle of Japanese rice wine vinegar)</li>
<li>About 5 dried pods of <b>chile de arbol</b> (this sounds ethnically out of place, but I happened to have some)</li>
<li><b>A packet of “roast chicken”-flavored seasoning from a Ramen noodle package</b> (this sounds ethnically out of place, but … yeah, no, I got nothing. The recipes I saw online all said to omit this if you used package noodles, so I was determined to include them.)</li>
<li><b>1 red pepper</b>, cut into strips</li>
<li><b>1 3.5-oz. package worth of oyster mushroom</b>, cut into weird earlobe-like pieces</li>
<li>3 ribs (no pun intended) of <b>bok choi</b>, white parts sliced into half-circles and green parts into strips</li>
</ul>
<p align="left">
After leaving the slow cooker on high for about 5 1/2 hours, I removed the pork bones (online recipes called for shredding the meat, but I was feeling the hunks it had naturally split into) and tasted the broth. It was super spicy from the chiles, so I added another splash of Worcestershire sauce to balance out the flavor. Then I added:
</p>
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<li><b>The noodles from the aforementioned ramen package</b></li>
<li><b>2 chopped scallions</b></li>
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I let this cook for 20 minutes, stirring a bit to break up the noodles (you’re not really supposed to open the slow-cooker lid while cooking, because it lets off a lot of heat, but this was like end-stage after the meat was done), then ladled it into bowls, and garnished with chopped cilantro.
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OH MY GOD gentle reader, this was the best slow-cooker meal I’ve made yet, and one of my favorite meals in some time. If—no, when—I make it again, I will be a bit more conservative with that last splash of Worcestershire, and I might also use a sliced fresh jalapeno instead or the dried arbol, because why not just try that.
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This was the nicest meal on a cold and rainy night. It was warming both in its heartiness and spiciness, and also it was literally quite warm. Other than the fatty bits of pork, which were pretty easy to pick out, it is also somewhat healthy, at least by my standards. All the broth and the veggies and the meat and the noodles came together in true comfort-food style, and had that medicinal-feeling quality of chicken soup (no doubt largely because of the chicken broth...oh, well, and the "roast chicken flavor" ramen seasoning.) I may or may not have slurped some of the remainder with a spoon straight from the slow cooker. You’ll never know for sure, gentle reader.
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-74139526239491828262017-01-17T18:58:00.001-08:002017-01-24T13:30:55.594-08:00Adventures in Slow Cooking: Baby-Back Ribs
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6BEoeNGcMV7IlCR3Zx87RgZ39s4nIE0aERw7Y7LsN9iX9aEPukz4Z3IByMPsZJL2_NS6D_1tHoMjKcHVD1PqIHIG2E-uY2_hKxh7R0dU3U77gsYhwye_A3vCYxrnSw3Z13DKZUjsA6Os/s1600/ribs1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6BEoeNGcMV7IlCR3Zx87RgZ39s4nIE0aERw7Y7LsN9iX9aEPukz4Z3IByMPsZJL2_NS6D_1tHoMjKcHVD1PqIHIG2E-uY2_hKxh7R0dU3U77gsYhwye_A3vCYxrnSw3Z13DKZUjsA6Os/s1600/ribs1.jpg" /></a></div>
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Gentle reader, you may have noticed that I am no longer numbering installments of the Adventures in Slow-Cooking series, as it has become readily apparent that they are accumulating too quickly to keep track of, and I was told there would be no math on the blog. I don't even like measuring ingredients.
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Anyhoo, baby back ribs in a slow cooker, you can’t beat that. Especially if yours, as mine were, are labeled as “pork loin back ribs,” which just sounds so deliciously dirty.
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I severed and peeled off the membrane (that plastic-wrap-like layer on the back of the ribs) and rubbed into the meat a dry rub consisting of the usual suspects: kosher salt, paprika, garlic powder. Kept it simple. Let it sit in fridge overnight.
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I cut the rack of ribs in half so it could better curl up in the slow cooker, then pulled the semi-homemade thing again and just squirted a whole squeeze bottle of Key Foods-brand barbecue sauce onto/around the rack of ribs. Then it was business as usual: cover cooker, turn on low for 12 hours.
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I served the ribs with skin-on smashed potatoes jacked up with sour cream and chipotle Gouda; and iceberg salad with a dressing of lime juice, mayonnaise, and just a wee sprinkle of paprika, because I figured the meat and potatoes would be flavorful enough.
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And oh hell yes, they were! The rib meat just slipped off the bone; the sauce was greasealicious when spooned over the potatoes. The hush that fell over the dinner table was reminiscent of the <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/the-silence-of-lamb-roast.html" target="new">Silence of the Lamb Roast</a>. I dare say, gentle reader, I am getting pretty darned good at this slow-cooker thing!
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-63482997057564026482017-01-17T17:59:00.000-08:002017-01-17T17:59:24.723-08:00All These and a Bag of Chips<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRh-ITNx9FhJDoD8F8F3MnNKx3V-gxhjq_F3Mpaw25QnKJ6VmzMPm-zU5umfaqqAp0gungpewqif4MA4nCWkJyTYV_5P_0-8nqbhH1wfl4q0-vVotCZtJj6umNFxABzwZm_FX7BUy8800/s1600/4sandwiches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRh-ITNx9FhJDoD8F8F3MnNKx3V-gxhjq_F3Mpaw25QnKJ6VmzMPm-zU5umfaqqAp0gungpewqif4MA4nCWkJyTYV_5P_0-8nqbhH1wfl4q0-vVotCZtJj6umNFxABzwZm_FX7BUy8800/s1600/4sandwiches.jpg" /></a></div><p align="left">
Welcome to some more amateur sandwich porn.
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The lunch I packed for my man tonight included (clockwise from top left): (1) turkey and ham with American cheese, lettuce, tomato, mayo, and mustard; (2) baby-back rib meat and American cheese with iceberg lime-mayo slaw; (3) roast beef, mozzarella, and tomato with sriracha-mayo-mustard spread; and (4) turkey, cream cheese, and lettuce.
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As you may have guessed from the title of this post, gentle reader, this lunch was accompanied by some barbecue-flavored potato chips, or “crisps” as Davy's people call them. There was also a can of Red Bull, because for some reason he enjoys Red Bull when vodka is not involved, which is weird. Actually, it’s weird to like Red Bull even when vodka is involved. But there is nothing at all weird about liking 4 different sandwiches, and a bag of chips.
</p>KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-52256343152963343142017-01-16T09:49:00.002-08:002017-01-16T09:49:45.379-08:00Adventures in Semi-Homemade Ignorant American Fusion Slow Cooking: Korma Is Not a Bitch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpfD0RxhEWJuQp38A-dKW6jeM1yL36LQQlzAyCo-2l95g6zLO0RSlmQZ7Lcozy6VQ9PaYnO7MrH1FgnABj_M8u-TLF9lbb0iofv06k9gQx5SrBXOeLEv7ICDdshNR0aviPHy7BqTn4Zrg/s1600/korma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpfD0RxhEWJuQp38A-dKW6jeM1yL36LQQlzAyCo-2l95g6zLO0RSlmQZ7Lcozy6VQ9PaYnO7MrH1FgnABj_M8u-TLF9lbb0iofv06k9gQx5SrBXOeLEv7ICDdshNR0aviPHy7BqTn4Zrg/s1600/korma.jpg" /></a></div>
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Gentle reader, I’m not gonna lie: I have not been employed full-time for some time. (What, how did you think I made time to suddenly and vociferously resurrect this blog?) And while I was extremely, extraordinarily grateful to have scored a week’s in-house freelance assignment in Manhattan, I was unprepared to be thrown back into the cowpen of personal-space violation that is the C-train morning commute. (Pro tip: Ladies of the C train, if you have ever lamented aloud to your significant other that you’d like to spoon more often, BE MORE SPECIFIC about whom you'd like to spoon with, because if you don’t, all I have to say is, BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR.) Mind you, this was morning time I would ordinarily spend Instagramming my breakfast while watching "In the Papers" on NY1, then observing the progress of Jamie Shupak's baby bump, then wondering just <i>how</i> drunk everyone on the <i>Today</i> show is, then maybe throwing some stuff in the slow cooker, then maybe going back to bed until like 11. Okay, fine, noon.
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Anyhoo. I determined to still make at least a couple of weeknight dinners in the course of the week, even though I would probably not be able to get home before 7PM, given the bashful C train's tendency to wait for FOUR FREAKING A TRAINS TO GO BY before it works up the courage to pull up into the station.
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But oh right, the slow cooker—that part of my morning ritual could actually carry over! This, I realized, would be a good opportunity to continue evolving my slow-cooking skills, which I will definitely need to rely heavily on if I am ever again gainfully employed full-time. I resolved to purchase a jar of premade Indian sauce, slather it on a chicken, and call it a day before starting my day. I figured, hey, if the semi-homemade approach is good enough for the plucky unofficial First Lady of New York, Sandra Lee, it’s good enough for me.
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I also thought that leftover chicken could be used for lunches, because another traumatic memory that came rushing back this week was HOW FREAKING MUCH A MEASLY SOGGY SANDWICH COSTS IN MANHATTAN! (Don’t get me started on what happens if you want a salad. Let’s just say it’s a good thing that I never want a salad.)
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So I bought a <b>whole chicken (3.5 lb)</b> and put it in a Ziploc bag. I <b>sliced half of a big yellow onion, stuffed as many slices as would fit into the chicken cavity, and sprinkled the rest around the bird</b>. Then I added a <b>16-oz. jar of premade korma sauce</b> (it’s an Indian curryish thing, fellow ignorant Americans), and tossed in a <b>splash of beer</b> and the contents of a small plastic container of <b>ketchup</b> that came with the French fries and onion rings we ordered at the Chinese-Mexican takeout place last night, because America.
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After letting this unholy mix set up in the fridge overnight (and praying that I could overcome my biorythmical aversion to early-morning food preparation), I woke up, dumped its contents into the slow cooker (legs up), turned it on <b>low heat</b>, and set off to be a temporarily productive member of society. The goal was to <b>cook it for 8 to 10 hours</b>, which seems to be the end game of every slow-cooker recipe, in my admittedly limited experience.
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I plated the chicken over rice from the Chinese-Mexican takeout spot, because semi-homemade, and also America. (My man does not like rice, so I served his in a large flour tortilla leftover from my $10 lunch at Chipotle, because semi-homemade, and also America.) I sprinkled some parsley leaves over it for a little color. The chicken and onions were quite delicious and the meat was very shreddy and moist. Success! Your move, Sandra.
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-8181727820226975442017-01-11T19:15:00.001-08:002017-01-25T11:31:06.194-08:00Chicken-Fusilli-Onion Soup<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFYhSMA419Y9f2-iaCMVB2Kd_Z858ZSOZ5NNdK6awYDi3ZP-P5LdkqihFPSFp5EBDzrYuDR8EBlXyBQRa6pHN3wsNam7yx1ScgFKA6Ey7Xt50X9cuukJZ4dc4oWUe5e-PT3iXiCxVrLSk/s1600/chickenfusillisoup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFYhSMA419Y9f2-iaCMVB2Kd_Z858ZSOZ5NNdK6awYDi3ZP-P5LdkqihFPSFp5EBDzrYuDR8EBlXyBQRa6pHN3wsNam7yx1ScgFKA6Ey7Xt50X9cuukJZ4dc4oWUe5e-PT3iXiCxVrLSk/s1600/chickenfusillisoup.jpg" /></a></div>
<p align="left">
Okay, fine, gentle reader, you got me. Obviously I could have just called this recipe chicken noodle soup. But listen, me and chicken noodle soup have—no pun intended—beef. I resent the hegemony of chicken noodle soup at every deli in New York. It always seems to have a seat at the table (or rather, beside the buffet table), and I think that is unfair to the marginalized and more creamy and delicious soups such as broccoli-cheddar and cream of cauliflower. Chicken noodle is to soups as the 1% are to the economy: Disproportionally privileged in a society that calls itself a democracy…or a deli, or whatever. The analogy isn’t that sound. The point is, it pisses me off.
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Anyhoo. Chicken and noodles in broth do have their medicinal purpose in cold January weather. Having embraced my mission to fill my boyfriend’s thermos at ungodly hours (that was not the weird innuendo that it came off as; please <b><a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/leftovers-love-beef-vegetable-soup.html" target="new">follow this link</a></b> for clarification), I made him this soup. Okay, fine, it was not such a healthful version.
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I <b>sautéed sliced onions in a bit of butter</b> in a small crock; then, when they were softened, I added <b>4 cups water</b> and brought it to a boil. I added a <b>handful of dry fusilli</b> (despite the fact that that word will never not evoke the image of that <i>Seinfeld</i> episode) and let them cook till softened. Now, if you’re uncomfortable with the fact that, upon lowering the heat to medium, I added and dissolved the contents of a packet of <b>Key Food onion soup mix</b> (I had one left over from the <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2016/12/adventures-in-slow-cooking-part-iii-pot.html" target="new">pot roast</a>!!!), let’s just omit that ingredient/step and pretend that those cups of water were, like, from-scratch organic chicken stock or something. Regardless, I then added some <b>chopped green beans and mushroo</b>ms and simmered them for a few minutes in the, ahem, liquid. I then turned off the burner.
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You probably won’t like this either: Earlier, at the deli counter of the Key Foods, I had requested a quarter-pound slab—not sliced—of <b>Boar’s Head chicken</b>, which I now proceeded to dice into cubes and toss into the liquid. Let’s pretend that I shredded leftover organic roast chicken.
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Since the soup was to be reheated, there was no point in actually properly heating the chicken. I covered the pot and popped it into the fridge.
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The soup would have been perfect if not for the whole heating-it-up-at-5-AM thing. When the alarm went off, I stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen (I later discovered that I was wearing one slipper and one flip-flop) and put the soup on a burner over medium heat. I awoke on the couch half an hour later to find that the broth had cooked down and the noodles were kind of bloated. Oh well. It was still hot soup on a cold January morning, so into the thermos it went.
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-27442269942129740542017-01-10T13:11:00.000-08:002017-01-25T11:32:00.988-08:00Please Enjoy Some Sandwich Porn
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Feast your eyes on this pseudo-Cuban beauty: <b>Ham, turkey, Swiss, mustard, mayo,</b> and <b>sliced zucchini pickles</b> (post <strike>to come</strike> <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/leftovers-love-zucchini-pickles_25.html" target="new">here</a>).
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(Kindly disregard the poor Photoshopping around the edges to conceal my messy kitchen in the background. It is still a thing of beauty, gentle reader, is it not?)
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By the by, I have now perfected my technique of packing <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2010/10/pack-non-soggy-sandwich-for-lunch-at.html" target="new">non-soggy sandwiches</a> for the next day’s lunch: I drape a sheet (or two) of cheese on each cut-open side of the bread, then stack on the cold cuts, spreading condiments between the layers. Any wet ingredients such as tomatoes and lettuce also go between the meats, sealing in the moisture. Revolutionary and revelatory—I know, right?
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You’re welcome.
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-24067278353304181602017-01-08T11:35:00.001-08:002017-01-08T11:35:45.628-08:00Adventures in Slow Cooking, Part V: Curried Chicken Thighs With Mushrooms and Green Beans<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Gentle reader, in my ongoing attempts to master cooking with my new slow cooker, I dare say this might have been the most successful yet. Now, I’m not going to lie: This recipe is basically a variation on the <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2017/01/ignorant-american-fusion-chicken-tikka.html" target="new">Ignorant American Fusion Tikka Masala</a> recipe I recently posted. The biggest difference is, you would really want to use thighs over breasts on this one, because they’re moister (read: fattier), and they will end up shreddy as opposed to chunky. Also I skipped the heavy cream component in the sauce, because I had no idea what consistency that would yield. Maybe next time.
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I took maybe <b>3 pounds of bone-in chicken thighs</b>, deskinned them and trimmed the blobby fat seams with kitchen shears, and rubbed them with a mix of <b>curry powder, paprika, kosher salt, garlic powder, and cumin</b>. (I was pretty generous with this dry rub, because I figured it would kind of dissipate into and flavor the sauce.) I left them in the fridge overnight like this, but eh, you needn’t bother.
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I laid these over a bed of <b>diced onion</b> in the slow cooker, added some <b>halved button mushrooms and chopped green beans</b>, and poured a <b>29-oz. can of tomato puree</b> and a <b>splash of chicken stock</b> over the whole mess. Then I cooked it on low for, I don’t know, 10-to-12-odd hours.
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Let’s pretend that this was served over <b>rice</b>, because it should have been, and I don’t want to talk about why it wasn’t (hint: it involved leaving the bar after the Chinese restaurant was closed, and that’s all I’ll say).
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If you wanted to get some kind of creamy vibe going on (sorry, that sounded wrong), I would say add a <b>dollop of yogurt</b> on top of each bowl. Maybe scatter some <b>chopped cilantro</b> over them too; I think I originally meant to do this but forgot, because the bar.
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This was quite flavorful, and reasonably healthy even. Plus, with this dish I unlocked a new achievement level vis-à-vis slow-cooker-sauce-consistency. Highly recommended as a one-dish weeknight meal. Preferably on a weeknight you haven't spent at the bar.
</p>KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-80307666710658777812017-01-06T19:50:00.000-08:002017-01-06T19:50:15.599-08:00Zucchini-Onion Sautee
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4KKrnezkvPl9omX1BZm5kls4EiTrWBpmug9zijIzTIhWKWzOu869QyCTCDL-IHB5KX65QzcB4hWYUlsqEsBrqhE0vnN0uEzaZqruVkt4PwaBMfrBdC5HRVB1iU3PgpxAJ_ftOH84q84/s1600/zucchini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4KKrnezkvPl9omX1BZm5kls4EiTrWBpmug9zijIzTIhWKWzOu869QyCTCDL-IHB5KX65QzcB4hWYUlsqEsBrqhE0vnN0uEzaZqruVkt4PwaBMfrBdC5HRVB1iU3PgpxAJ_ftOH84q84/s1600/zucchini.jpg" /></a></div>
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It doesn’t get simpler or easier than this side dish; there are just a couple of seasonings (spoiler alert: nutmeg, thyme, and lemon) that make all the difference in bringing out the flavor of the veggies.
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Start by melting a <b>pat of butter</b> (or you could use olive oil) in a saucepan over medium heat, then throw in some <b>sliced or diced onion</b> and let it soften, stirring so it doesn’t over-brown or stick to the pan. Grate a bit of fresh <b>nutmeg</b> (like 1/4 tsp.) over it. Mince a few sprigs’ worth of <b>thyme leaves</b> with about 1 TBSP of kosher salt, scatter it over the onion, and add <b>1 small-to-medium zucchini</b>, sliced coin-style. Spritz on the <b>juice of half a lemon</b> and toss everything together.
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<b>Cook about 10 minutes</b> until the zucchini has a bit of brown color on it, tossing every few minutes; if it starts to stick to the pan in the process, add a bit more butter or oil (and/or a wee bit of white wine).
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You could add a drained/rinsed can’s worth of <b>black beans</b> to this and serve it over rice if you wanted a one-dish vegetarian meal; some <b>grated Parmesan</b> also would not be amiss. I, unsurprisingly, served it as a side to roasted bone-in pork chops that had been basted with various condiment packets and powdered spices, along with creamy skin-on mashed potatoes dotted with chopped chives.
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-78814228526226900492017-01-05T18:11:00.000-08:002017-01-05T18:11:58.708-08:00The Silence of the Lamb Roast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4jbHSWpwGxrNRvHbuy2mEufTuEMJ8RI_msCA_3fRJ7x62XqwzL1NhfN15ffKffMJSshlNASSxD1mxwdowJuvETvNu0Pu5e-Bu3xLPvzzsf5-MsJyqHG6hvGXYb7QE62pjJP4lo-JAUR4/s1600/lambroast-done.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4jbHSWpwGxrNRvHbuy2mEufTuEMJ8RI_msCA_3fRJ7x62XqwzL1NhfN15ffKffMJSshlNASSxD1mxwdowJuvETvNu0Pu5e-Bu3xLPvzzsf5-MsJyqHG6hvGXYb7QE62pjJP4lo-JAUR4/s1600/lambroast-done.jpg" /></a></div>
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Gentle readers, my rollercoaster love-hate relationship with the Key Foods (née Met Foods) continues. Today I fell in love with it all over again when I found bone-in leg of lamb for $2.99 a pound. I purchased a roast that was about 2 1/2 pounds—mind you, knowing that a fair bit of that weight was the bone itself, but still feeling psyched that it was a good value.
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I came home (singing <i>“Kiiitty had a leg of lamb, leg of lamb, leg of lamb...”</i>), <b>preheated the oven to 350°</b>, and slathered the meat with a <b>paste of Dijon mustard, panko bread crumbs, garlic powder, shaved lemon zest, paprika, kosher salt, thyme, and parsley</b>. (Tip: Mince your herbs/zest on a bed of the salt and other dry spices, it helps break them down. This works well for garlic too, but to my immense shame, I did not have any fresh garlic in the house.)
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I put the meat in a <b>foil-lined baking pan</b> splashed with a bit of <b>olive oil</b> (photo below), and dropped it into the oven, followed shortly by another foil-lined baking pan containing unskinned Idaho <b>potatoes, cut into wedges and tossed in salt and olive oil</b>.
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I also sliced and sautéed an <b>8-oz. package of white mushrooms</b> in <b>butter with a bit of thyme and salt and a splash of balsamic</b>, to serve as a dressing for the lamb. Finally, I tossed some <b>arugula in a mix of lemon juice and Dijon mustard</b>—to echo the flavors of the lamb paste while creating an acidic counterpoint to the meat’s richness—and diced some <b>mozzarella</b> into it, because I didn’t want it <i>tooooo</i> counterpointy.
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<b>I cooked the meat and potatoes for about <b>45 minutes</b> and then turned the heat up to 400° and roasted the meat another 15 min</b>, then let it rest while I let a bottle of Malbec breathe. I <b>tossed the potatoes with some chopped chives</b>, plated it all, took the obligatory photos, then started carving. Parts of the inside of the lamb were a bit bloody for my taste, but some people like it like that—luckily, including my boyfriend, because I was all about hacking off the lighter-pink pieces. Our adopted son (a.k.a. his 26-year-old friend who sleeps on our couch) was fine with the ones somewhere in between, so it all worked out.
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These guys are gratifyingly good eaters. When I cook for these two, I can tell when they really like a meal, because they both stop talking for at least 5 solid minutes while going to town on their plates. That happened tonight—hence, the Silence of the Lamb Roast. Within the next 5 minutes, which included silence-breaking dinner conversation such as “Babe, can you cut me another piece of meat, thanks,” almost everything on the table was consumed (with the exception of the salad—because salad, cheese notwithstanding).
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I'm not exaggerating about this good-eater thing. Not five minutes after the lamb roast was decimated, a pint of Haagen-Dazs quietly emerged from the fridge, and my young son observed that my boyfriend was enjoying the Silence of the Ice Cream.
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-82582427550802467862017-01-03T18:58:00.000-08:002017-01-03T19:01:37.558-08:00Ignorant American Fusion: Chorizo-Cheddar-Chile Lasagna<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBs847i6jgLJZyyWGF7aCfLmyxFJmG2UUdoG_kSkaSmZvCB_W82qWx6QiKFcRhGTU6GEaBs10Wp4M3PuZQ_BPz-89DGBZUy1E7T6sMhJ1zS9tgALMIF3nIENM9_sef1UG7ZnGRabSE2mo/s1600/chorizolasagna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBs847i6jgLJZyyWGF7aCfLmyxFJmG2UUdoG_kSkaSmZvCB_W82qWx6QiKFcRhGTU6GEaBs10Wp4M3PuZQ_BPz-89DGBZUy1E7T6sMhJ1zS9tgALMIF3nIENM9_sef1UG7ZnGRabSE2mo/s1600/chorizolasagna.jpg" /></a></div><p align="left">
I know what you’re thinking just reading the post title, gentle reader: That sounds like something that would be on the menu at Chili’s. Well, fine, maybe it would—but at least I’m not killing your buzz by printing the calorie count on a menu, okay?
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This weeknight meal (about <b>30 minutes</b> start to finish; could easily be prepped in advance and reheated covered in foil) was inspired by my lack of motivation to go to the grocery store. In the fridge, I had a <b>4-pack of Goya chorizo</b>, a <b>4-oz. can of mild diced green chiles</b>, an <b>8-oz. package of cream cheese</b>, a block of <b>jalapeno jack</b>, and the last gasp of a bunch of <b>cilantro</b>. In my cupboard, I had some <b>lasagna noodles</b>—which was a small miracle considering that last week I nearly had to be escorted out of the Key Foods after I pointed out to the woman ringing up my groceries that the packages were on sale two-for-one, which she summarily denied, and after I stormed into the pasta aisle and returned with the sale card, she looked at it and goes, “No, it’s not two for one. It says buy one, get one free.” I SWEAR TO GOD, gentle reader. I was like, HOLD MY EARRINGS.
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Anyhoo. Although I was in no mood to return to said Key Foods, the two aforementioned cheeses were clearly not adequate for a lasagna, so I got a <b>half pound of sliced cheddar</b> at the <a href="https://brooklynsubbergen.com/" target="new">Brooklyn Sub</a> on Bergen just off Washington (next to the liquor store where you play a decidedly less titillating variant of Spin the Bottle by putting your purchase into the bulletproof-glass Lazy Susan). Gentle reader, I highly recommend Brooklyn Sub as a place to purchase your deli meats and cheeses. It has a great selection; the staff is super nice; and it is where I first learned of the existence of chipotle Gouda, so it has a special place in my heart—and also, the guy with the ponytail is the most dextrous deli slicer ever, so do not be put off by his ponytail, because he is a true professional, and none of that hair is going to end up in your food, trust.
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Anyhoo x2. I got half a pound of sliced cheddar. Okay, now here’s the actual recipe...
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<li>Preheat your oven to <b>350°</b></li>
<li>Butter an <b>8- or 9-inch baking dish</b></li>
<li><b>Boil and drain</b> a little over half a 16-oz. package of lasagna noodles</li>
<li><b>Layer the noodles</b> in the dish, <b>alternating</b> with a mix of sliced browned chorizo (I snip an edge of each sausage and peel off the paper-like skin), canned and drained green chiles, and coin-sliced zucchini, dotted with dabs of cream cheese and scattered with chopped cilantro on at least one layer</li>
<li><b>Cover each layer</b> with a blanket of sliced cheddar slices</li>
<li><b>Top layer:</b> Cover with shredded jalapeno jack </li>
<li><b>Bake until</b> said top layer of cheese is a little browned (not too browned, because then the innards will be dried out)</li>
<li>Remove from oven and <b>allow to rest</b> for long enough to Instagram a photo</li>
<li><b>Cut into wedges</b> and serve</li>
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I served this with a simple salad of iceberg lettuce, tomato, and red onion, tossed in fresh-squeezed lime juice and, okay, a wee bit of mayonnaise—because in my house, there are no menus with calorie counts.
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-71033902093654975942017-01-03T05:59:00.002-08:002017-01-03T05:59:36.487-08:00Leftovers Love: Beef-Vegetable Soup<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3x775RENDAQZ31Xv2AyKWs03x_LC7yEYaQH4gTEHgBYsZi6UvT8xFkKwQ1Warp5lLaPN_1w9MFChpnEYjKPWL9F2RLwEdgdM5fF6noaRj-15pgsMhD50wFJMDKYdmhZl4vyFDirmvS0Y/s1600/beefnoodlesoup2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3x775RENDAQZ31Xv2AyKWs03x_LC7yEYaQH4gTEHgBYsZi6UvT8xFkKwQ1Warp5lLaPN_1w9MFChpnEYjKPWL9F2RLwEdgdM5fF6noaRj-15pgsMhD50wFJMDKYdmhZl4vyFDirmvS0Y/s1600/beefnoodlesoup2.jpg" /></a></div><p align="left">
Gentle reader, as I have previously expressed, I am very grateful for the fact that I <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2016/12/spinach-triangles-and-circle-of-life.html" target="new">met the man of my dreams in an otherwise dismal 2016</a>. I am also grateful that my mother gladly welcomed him into our family Chrismukkah celebration and gifted him with much-needed cold-weather items such as warm socks, a sweater ... and a lovely metal thermos (below) whose surface proudly declares “The adventure begins!” (It appears from the graphic that the purveyors expect you to paddle a canoe through the thermos, but I'm not buying it.)
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Anyhoo. Christmas morning. “For soup, Davy!” my mother crowed. “Katherine will make you soup for lunch! The soup will stay warm!” And my man was all like, “Great! I can dip the sandwiches she makes me into the soup!” And I was all like, <i>uh, whuuut? I did not sign off on this. </i>
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Mind you, he gets up before 5 AM to go to work, God love him, and in January it is pitch-dark and damn cold. I am happy to make the effort to pack him a sandwich and chips the night before, then go to bed exhausted from the effort, eventually rising at the crack of noon.
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But soup? Dude. Even if I make that the night before, I have to heat it up in real time. As far as I could tell on Christmas morning, <i>that</i> was the true adventure of which the thermos spoke. And it was now my conscripted duty to embark on it.
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I mean, I do like a good adventure—as long as it involves food, and not getting up before noon...
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So, gentle reader, remember how I had all that liquid left over from my <a href="http://brooklyngirlscooking.blogspot.com/2016/12/adventures-in-slow-cooking-part-iii-pot.html" target="new">slow-cooker pot roast</a>, which was based on <b>onion-soup mix and cream-of-mushroom-soup mix and also contained mushrooms and leek</b>? Well, I saved that, strained off the fat layer from the refrigerated mixture, brought it to a boil, and added a <b>handful of dry strands of linguine broken off lengthwise into 4 soup-noodle-length strands</b> (that is not an actual measurement, but you know what I mean). I also threw in more of the leftover <b>pot roast strands</b> (some had already hunkered down in the liquid) and some <b>coin-sized green-bean cuts</b>, and left it all to simmer in my small Creuset saucepan. I added a little <b>beer and water</b> to ensure that after reheating, the soup would not thicken into gravy—even though the prospect of dipping a sandwich into gravy in January did not seem like such a bad deal.
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The soup came out just lovely. And when my man's alarm went off at 4:45 AM, did I spring out of bed to reheat it? No. No, gentle reader, I did not. Sadly, the thermos adventure will have to wait for another day. But at least he got a sandwich and chips.
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And now, I'm going back to bed.
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-26786101825964409522017-01-02T11:41:00.000-08:002017-01-02T19:02:02.040-08:00Ignorant American Fusion: Chicken Tikka Masala
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<i><font size="1">Photo of Minar buffet via <a href="http://midtownlunch.com/" target="new">Midtown Lunch</a></font></i>
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Happy New Year!
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Speaking of New Year's... Back when I worked in Times Square (cut to Marlon Brando hissing “The horror... the horror...”), one of the few bright lunch spots in the area was an Indian take-out joint called <a href="http://www.minarny.com/ShowMenu.tpl?cart=148320849634911174&vSHOWMENU=1362" target="new">Minar</a>, at 46th just off Broadway. (There was also <a href="https://www.sophiescuban.com/menu/" target="new">Sophie's Cuban Cuisine</a> on 45th between 5th and 6th, and an <a href="https://foursquare.com/v/kwik-meal-cart/4a622697f964a52038c31fe3" target="new">exellent biryani cart</a> at 44th off 6th, where a disheveled and disoriented Pauly Shore once, moments after devouring a hot dog from the adjacent street cart, snagged the chicken kati roll I had ordered, but that’s another story.) (Well, actually, that’s the whole story. The only postscript is that now I see why they used to call him the Weasel.)
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Anyhoo, at Minar, I always got the chicken tikka masala. It's amazingly delicious, although it costs $10 for an 8-oz. container with like 4 or 5 pieces of chicken floating in the amazingly rich and delicious sauce. Everything is out buffet-style, so it's a very quick grab-and-go lunch (although you can eat in, it's not the most ambiancey spot). You can get your meal with rice or naan, and if you select the latter, the woman behind the counter will turn toward the kitchen and yell “NAAN TO GO!!!,” and you will promptly begin salivating like a Pavlov dog. Damn, that is some good naan. It's a huge fluffy disc with crispy bubbles, all nice and warm and soft. You dip it in the sauce to sop up every drop after you've finished those measly 4 pieces of chicken.
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Sadly, I do not know how to make that naan. (Sorry, gentle readers, for being a naan-tease.) But I did figure out a super-easy Ignorant American Fusion hack for the tikka masala, and you can feed dinner to <b>3 to 4 people</b> with this chicken dish for the amount of money it would take one luncher in midtown to consume those 4 or 5 floating pieces.
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So. I like to add some <b>veggies</b> to the dish, even though they wouldn’t typically be included in the tikka masala, because when served over rice it makes for a nice one-dish meal. Start by <b>sautéing diced onions in a pat of butter with a bit of olive oil and a pinch of kosher salt</b>. Then add, say, some <b>sliced mushroom</b>s and/or <b>zucchini</b>. You could do <b>chopped blanched cauliflower</b> here instead/as well, or, I don’t know, <b>green beans, red or peppers,</b> whatever. Your kitchen, your rules.
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When the veggies have slightly softened, I add about <b>1 tsp. of curry powder</b> and stir to infuse it into them. Then I pour in <b>2 8-oz. cans of tomato sauce</b> (obviously you could use one 16-oz., but the small ones are usually on sale), and—sorry, not sorry—<b>1 cup of heavy cream</b> (halve this if you like). You could throw in a handful or two of <b>frozen peas</b> at this point as well. Again, it's on you.
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Then I drop in cut-up chunks of <b>boneless, skinless chicken breast—somewhere between 1 and 2 pounds’ worth</b>; you could also use thighs—and let that simmer over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the chicken is tender but not quite shreddy/falling apart. <b>Maybe 15 minutes.</b> The sauce gets rich and thick and it’s just lovely.
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As mentioned, I serve this pseudo-Indian dish over <b>rice</b> (usually take-out leftovers from my local Chinese/Tex-Mex spot, because America). It soaks up the sauce pretty nicely, though it's just not the same as that heavenly naan. But hey, maybe one of these days, I’ll figure out a hack for that. Y’all will be the first to know.
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788409150160375216.post-50541441329202126172016-12-31T10:07:00.001-08:002016-12-31T10:12:39.872-08:00Adventures in Slow Cooking Part IV: Pot Roast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIh8YWfe-mZ56PG1aqI8Djpdtc2P3d31y5TPNrAeFJDi0XuL0EzmSq2S8nJgW9QGYud_ulie870rbHMXDvzd9KIFPXOsnGaYCk08yib0XKJTQDUo-grXsmWZFReWOVC-4rwEC0EVu7Xcg/s1600/potroast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIh8YWfe-mZ56PG1aqI8Djpdtc2P3d31y5TPNrAeFJDi0XuL0EzmSq2S8nJgW9QGYud_ulie870rbHMXDvzd9KIFPXOsnGaYCk08yib0XKJTQDUo-grXsmWZFReWOVC-4rwEC0EVu7Xcg/s1600/potroast.jpg" /></a></div>
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I feel like pot roast is the ultimate slow-cooker meal, even though the method of cooking means it is technically not a roast, and arguably not in a pot. On Wednesday, I decided to go super-old-school and combine in my slow cooker (as seen above) ... <a name='more'></a>
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<li>A 3.77-lb. “beef round bottom round rib roast,” as labeled by my local Key Foods</li>
<li>8 oz.’ worth of mushrooms, halved</li>
<li>2 leeks, white parts only, sliced into rings (I saved the green parts, and the mushroom stems, to make chicken stock at some point later)</li>
<li>One packet of Key Foods onion soup mix, rubbed on the roast</li>
<li>One can’s worth of Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup</li>
<li>Half a soup can’s worth of red wine</li>
<li>Half a soup can’s worth of chicken stock</li>
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I let the beef sit for like 30 minutes at room temp while I prepared and threw everything else into the cooker. Then I turned it on low and made myself breakfast, while ugly-crying about the untimely demise of Princess Leia.
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Well, gentle reader, we ended up staying out later than expected, because YOLO, and I cooked the heck out of that pot roast. It shredded as soon as you stuck a fork in it. But it was still pretty darn moist—in fact, there was a ton of liquid that I wished would’ve cooked down and thickened a bit more. I am growing to learn that liquids in the slow cooker tend to actually thin out rather than evaporating, I guess because the vegetables release additional moisture. Still and all, the meat was delicious and the leftovers would make excellent tacos.
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KittyTaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06914548244705488015noreply@blogger.com0