Caprese Cookout

Yesterday we had my sister, her man and my cousins over for a bbq.  We had the usual fare for the carnivore – steak, chicken, brats.  That took care of everyone but me and my sister.  Originally I was going to make grilled pizzas – but the amount of carnivore fare on the grill had me rethink those plans.  I decided on a panzanella salad – which is basically a caprese salad with chunks of homemade croutons.

It could not be easier. I forgot to take pictures of the baguette and tomatoes prior to cutting them up – sorry – I used replacement tomatoes. You’ll have to suspend your disbelief and go along with it.

Cut up tomatoes and basil – add the vinegar and let sit, room temperature for 2 or 3 hours.  In the meantime, cut up a baguette, I used a French sourdough, and toast in a 375 degree oven for 15 minutes – until the bread is lightly toasted with crispy corners.  Then you need some bocconcini – those baby balls of mozzarella marinated in olive oil and herbs. I simply cut them up, combine with the tomato/basil mixture, add the bread to combine. Couldn’t be easier. I usually add about 1/2 the oil from the cheese to the mixture and there you have it. Just when you thought another cheese/bread combo wasn’t possible.

Ofcourse just one caprese salad would not make a successful cookout – enter my sister’s man who brought the beauty below. Look at the size of those glorious tomatoes. Now it’s a party!

Here’s what else was served (I forgot to take photos of the steak – and the brats had been lying around for a bit so the bread looks a bit withered).

 

My sister – thank goodness – brought a pie! Raspberry Peach.  It was ridiculously good. Maybe I’ll talk her into doing a step by step baking post one day.

Big in Japan

I got a package today.  From Japan.  Or from Amazon.com.

This is what I’ve been waiting for.  I’ve researched, I’ve coveted, I’ve dreamed of the perfect mandolin.  One that was simple and didn’t take up too much space. One that would slice, dice, julienne, scallop and mince.  The search is over.

You can all keep your shoes and handbags and designer clothing.  I have the Benriner mandolin.  Excuse me while I go spend some quality time with it.

Chocolate It’s Bananas! Bread Pudding

I told you guys I had too many bananas.  Ok – after this we’ll be banana free for a bit.  Hope you try this and hope you forgive me for not retyping the ingredients.  (Recipe can be found in the Flour Bakery Cookbook – again).  This is the first time I made this recipe but I’m a chocolate pudding risk taker.

 

Cube the bread and put in a wide, shallow pan.  I used a loaf of day old bread from the local bakery but any old bread would do.

 

In a separate bowl whisk together the eggs, sugar and baking soda.

 

 

Heat the half&half to scalding but not to a boil.  So basically a thin skin will start forming but no bubbles.  Although I saw a couple of bubbles but nobody’s perfect.  If you are perfect, you’ll start heating the half&half before cubing the bread and whipping the egg mixture, being 100% efficient with your time.  Or you can be like me and wait by the stove staring down the liquid as if you’re eyes had super scalding power.

Anyhoo – once it’s at the scalding hot stage – pour it onto the chocolate chips – which you’ve combined in yet another bowl.  I promise you, this is the last “another” bowl you’ll need.

 

Start stirring slowing after pouring and you’ll see the chips magically dissolve leaving a big fat pot of chocolate half&half.  You can just stop here and have that for desert if you’d like.  No one will know.

 

Once the chocolate has fully dissolved, slowly, carefully, pour the egg mixture in – all the while whisking as you go (and then try taking a picture at the same time. I’m just sayin’).

If the odds are in your favor and you don’t have chocolate egg curdles – pour the mixture onto the cubes of bread.  The book calls for pouring the liquid through a sieve first but I pretended not to read that part.

Then add the bananas.  You can either slice the bananas in or in my case, squeeze the overripe goop onto the pan and mix in.  Tasty.

Then into a 300 degree oven for a 1.5 hours.

 

Once done – add your choice of topping – chocolate sauce, whipped cream, ice cream…. take a wild guess what I picked.

Coconut chicken ala Coconut

Cooking posts are hard.  Maybe just hard for me, since millions of cooking blogs do it everyday.  I bow down to them.  Maybe one of my tens of readers will make this and love it.  If you do, and you don’t. Please keep it to yourself. I just spent an entire day making what usually takes me a good 10 minutes.

Coconut Chicken  - the cast

4 skinless, boneless chicken thighs

1 can coconut milk

1 lime

2 tablespoons of olive oil

1 tablespoon of salt

1 large onion, red pepper and green pepper (I had some frozen fire roasted ones that I used)

1 chicken bouillon cube

3 tablespoons of tomato paste

2 bay leaves

1 tablespoon of garlic powder

Handful of cilantro

Generously douse the chicken in the juice of one lime and then sprinkle the chicken with salt and garlic powder

Heat the olive oil on a high heat

 

Add the chicken and sear both sides – don’t worry about cooking all the way through

Once it’s seared, take the chicken out and let it rest.  Add the peppers, bouillon cube, bay leaves and tomato paste

 

Stir it around to pick up all the chicken bits on the bottom of the pan

My onions and peppers were precooked – but you’ll need a good 5 minutes to cook them down. Then add the full can of coconut milk and bring to a boil. Be sure to shake the can first – if you don’t – you’ll get some funky clear liquid  with white goo on the bottom. Been there. Done that.

Add that patient chicken back in the pan with all the juices, put a lid on it, and turn the heat to low

  

While the chicken cooks with the sauce for 5 minutes, chop up way too much cilantro – you’ll only use 1 tablespoon of that heap.  Add it to the chicken and keep the rest, there may be some salsa that needs it during the week.

Serve it up with some homemade white rice.

I keep mine in Golden China to-go containers. What?

Chicken Tikka Who???

So we went to my parent’s house this weekend. The whole family got together on Saturday night to do an early Mother’s Day dinner. It was a fun, loud blur. I could regale you with the stories of our good time together. The laughter (it’s either directed at you or about you) and the general wackiness of our kin. I could tell you how much my kids love spending time with my parents – or that my mother literally calls my son “The Prince”. And that she thinks my daughter is the smartest, prettiest, nicest girl in the world. But truth be told this post, like my childhood and most of my adulthood, is about the food.

We go home to eat.

At breakfast we talk about what we’re having for lunch, at dinner we discuss the next day’s meals . Anyone who doesn’t like to be asked if they want water/juice/tea/coffee/snacks all throughout the day until you feel forced to say yes….. should steer clear.

Growing up, my mother would make all our meals from scratch, everyday. Once in a while, on a crazy Friday night, we’d get Pizza Hut. These days my parents throw caution to the wind and order from other pizza places, but back then, there was only the big red hut (where we always got the same thing: large pie with peppers and onions).

Also important to note….our everyday meals at home never include the following: nan, samosas, korma anything, paneer or any kind of cheese (unless we’ve ordered the above mentioned pizza), and there was no frozen mixed veggie dish with tons of cream.

Visual proof below. I wasn’t able to get everything from beginning to end because I do not wake up at 5am with my mother to cook – sorry.

Here’s what we ate our way through this weekend…

These little babies are little, thin, crispy breads. You poke a little hole on top and fill with different types of beans, chutneys (which are sweet and spicy sauces), plain yogurt thinned out with a little water, and these little corn munchies called sev.

Here’s the chutneys: the deep green one is made from parsley, lemon, green chillies, ginger and garlic, oil and water. The other one is a tamarind/date concoction that is sweet and tangy.

Disclaimer: This is NOT everyday, blah food – this is fun street food of India! My aunt brought it over as a treat for us mommas! Now it’s a party! Who needs booze when you have this….ok just kidding, went too far.

Here’s the bread that was made everyday (and still is) at our house (whole wheat flour and water) :

Here’s where the bread lands: on a plate (thali) with a lentil soup (dahl), and two different vegetables (cauliflower and potatoes, and eggplant, daikon and peas and rice. It’s important to have 2 carbs on a plate, trust me).

We’re back home now – we rolled all the way back this afternoon. We’ll be wearing our stretchy pants for the next few days.

Kosher Hibachi…not so much

I’m a vegetarian. I’ve always been one. My parents are both veggies too. My sister ventured to the dark side during her teen years, but we got her back eventually. It’s really no big deal. I’m well fed – over nourished actually. I’m pretty easy going about the whole thing. My kids both eat meat and fish and fowl – I’ve already explained their Irish/Ukrainian background which demands consumption of many different types of sausage. I have no problem cooking for all different folks, save the Vegans who I think are aliens (really, no cheese or yogurt, ever? A life without dairy? Madness. ) I’m off track, I’ve digressed … or as one my good friends would say, “the cheese is falling off the cracker.” See why I love her?

It’s pretty easy to be veg these days, there are plenty of choices – I can even get a Big Mac without the Mac. I’m just sayin’ it’s no big deal. The only thing that still freaks me out is when animal and non-animal are served together on the same plate, or are handled by the same utensil, or worse, cooked in the same pan! Then I’m a little grossed out (in a non-judgmental way). When I first learned what the word Kosher meant – I was thrilled. All my needs wrapped up in a bow. Yes, I know it means so much more – and it’s not exactly what I’m talking about – but it’s close enough. Would I love my food to be cooked in an entirely separate kitchen, oh yeah. Will it happen – no. But when I say the word Kosher… it explains all my separate but equal needs.

So this weekend we went to see my husband’s cousin and his ridiculously gorgeous family. We met at a great hibachi place near their town. First I was distracted by the light and love that are these beauties….

Those lashes…that little nose and mouth. Come on.

My biological clock is literally winding itself up again as I hold her.

Have you ever??

Her very handsome, very funny older brother.

In this scene the hibachi madness had just started…

Below…. She’s thinking what I’m thinking,” Where’s the veggie hibachi grill?”

Where was I? Sorry. Now this was not my first hibachi experience. We go all the time. I knew when the gal came over to explain the menu that all foods would be living in sin together on the grill in front of us. I also knew that the dude cooking would be using one knife for it all (and telling bad jokes). So he went at it – cutting zucchini, cutting shrimp, cutting steak, cutting my desire to ever go to Japan…not really…ok …yes.

Look at all that inter-food group mingling going on.

I realize I’m not normal. I’m not doing this for religion or animal rights – I just missed the boat on eating any other way. I blame my mother.

But this post is not a complaint – it’s an explanation. No other food eating experience can ever illustrate my issues more than hibachi.

That said – what do I get at hibachi every time we go? SUSHI!

Ofcourse I’m sure the sushi guy uses the same knife too – but a girl’s gotta eat right?

Cookbook Obsession

I love cookbooks, I read them like novels.  Sometimes I even cook from them.  Here’s a few of my favorites.

Just thought you should know.

Cake for breakfast

 You know those families that have dinner every night at 6?  That has never been us.  My husband walks in the door at 7:30pm on most nights – if we’re lucky.  When the kids were younger we lived even further from his job.  He’d leave at 6am and walk in the door at 9pm.  If someone had a birthday during the week – cake for breakfast was the only way to celebrate.  Since then we’ve done it whether we needed to or not.

I guess the other option would have been to not have cake at all – but that’s just crazy.  What are we, savages?

ps – that shirt fit him the night before this picture was taken.  Also – she requested the store bought cake – I swear.

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