Home Sliders and Jenny's Shower

In August, my fellow "townie" and friend Jenny had her bridal shower at Dave and Buster's. I thought it was a great place for a shower, and we had so much fun. Any place where you can be served alcohol and play video games is a great place for a shower, if you ask me. We had a Kane County Cougar's game to attend that night, so we didn't actually have time to play the video games -- but we definitely partook of the alcohol. The food was fun and super-tasty. They served chicken fingers (very crunchy and tender inside), nachos, veggies and dip, mini-pizzas, and one of my favorites: sliders!



I've had a soft-spot for sliders, since I grew up near a pee-wee golf establishment that sold the little suckers (sadly, no longer in existence), and often we would run over to pick up a sack of burgers (and skip the golf). These at the D & B were so good, I made quite the pig of myself. They were far above the quality of your standard White Castle (not that there's anything wrong with that, if you're drunk anyway. Or hung-over). Nooo, these were special. The memory of them stayed with me, until a few weeks later I was forced to try to re-create the moment. I remembered my friend Katherine serving sliders at a pre-drink party a couple of years ago. She had mixed ground beef with onion soup mix, and a little Worcheshire and seasonings. Then she spread the meat out flat in the bottom of a sheet pan, baked it, and then cut them into small squares with a pizza-cutter. Judging from the look she was giving me, I was apparently the last person on earth to hear of this (which would be nothing new.) I had happened to find some Hawaiian bread rolls that were perfect for the occasion. I revived the recipe, and used turkey meat, as is my wont.



They were quite delicious. My largest sheet pan happened to be dirty, and as a rule I won't wash dishes by hand unless I absolutely have to. So mine came out a bit thicker, having used the smaller pan. I would also add that although I am always trying to kill fewer cows, as well as reduce our fatty intake and cholesterol, I think next time I will make these with lean beef. Still, they were very tasty and a lot of fun!!

P.S. I remember the two figures at the Pee Wee Golf that used to stand on Larry Power Road in Kankakee quite well... On one course, there was a Big-Boy-like male figure with a platter of sliders. On the other course, there was a girl with a similar platter and a flip hairdo. I remember them languishing sadly for a long while after the course closed, the victims of vandalization and degradation over time. Now I wish I had gotten a pickup truck and stolen them both. I wonder, does anyone have a photo of one of these two? I'd love to have a copy...

UPDATE (a la "Unsolved Mysteries"): The figures still stand on a miniature golf course on Larry Power road. They are now a part of Aspen Ridge Golf Course! (Sorry about the night pic, but you can see me next to the statue for a size reference.)

Halva

I was at Joe Caputo's grocery the other day, waiting at the always-spectacular but crowded deli counter. We were in a hurry to get to a friend's house. I picked up something that I thought was torrone, encased in plastic wrap as though it had been freshly made. Chris gave me the look that he gives me when he is annoyed that I have decided to experience something new when we are in a hurry to get somewhere. The parcel read, "halva," which I'd never had. Or heard of, for that matter. But I figured, "Well... it has something marshmallowy in it, and pistachios (which is, delightfully, the junk-food of nuts), so how could it be bad?" I tried to pull off a hunk just as we pulled up to our friend Cameron and Lindsay's house. I expected it to be chewy, like torrone, but instead it crumbled all over me and the car seat. Chris gave me the look that he gives me when he feels that I deserve to be covered in crumbs for getting distracted by food when he is in a hurry, and for being such a pig that I will open the package to eat it in the car before we get there.



It is a bit strange at first -- like the first time you have tahini all by itself (which, it turns out, is in this) -- but I really like it. Chris doesn't. I think it has a sweet, roasted nut flavor, and I like the texture. I like that it isn't overly sweet, but just enough. I also like that you can keep it wrapped on your countertop for an apparently long period of time, while you slowly chip away at it, unmolested by your sweets-mongering husband.

Eggplant Risotto

Risotto (arborio rice) is another Italian dish that I have no qualms in saying that I did not grow up eating. For one thing, the differences in Italian cooking vary widely not just region-to-region, but also from kitchen-to-kitchen that you can easily spend a lifetime exploring all of the possibilities. No single Italian grows up with every Italian dish. It is also important to note that my greatest influence in cooking was my father -- who was not just an Italian, but a long-term bachelor before (and after) his marriage. He was a great, and passionate cook, but he was also Mr. Mom. While he aspired to the delicate and complex cooking of Julia Child, his own cooking was often centered mostly around cuts of various meats, frying things, coldcuts, and (with the exception of his tomato-gravy, and corned beef on St. Patrick's Day) those things which could be made quickly and easily: utilizing only a 24-year-old spatula, and a skillet that looked as though it had shielded him throughout a war and several hostage crises. His cooking was born of his ethnicity, his necessity, and his resources. And consistently, it was damn good. I see these things with a clearer eye now.

(As a side note, when David and I moved out of the old house, we could not wait to chuck the crummy old cooking supplies and buy new ones. Now, when I think of the history the old man's skillet had, I wouldn't focus on its long lack of a non-stick surface: I would mount it on my kitchen wall as an historical artifact.)

Still, my tastes (and my husband's) run just a bit more to the veggie side now and again. My inexperience with the medium of risotto, however, made me rather timid about trying it out. But over the years, She Whom I Love to Taunt (but actually rely on, and worship somewhat) has emphasized the ease of making risotto so many times that I actually started to believe it. And Rachael? "Easy-peasy" it is.

I started the rice with onion and mushroom. Then I began to add the chicken stock according to the package directions. While I slow-cooked the risotto, I grilled eggplant on the side. It was very simple to continue adding chicken broth as the risotto cooked, thickened, cooked, thickened... Lather, rinse, repeat. I added fresh basil at the end, and served it with some ovoline (buffalo mozzarella the size of eggs) that I got at my new favorite grocery store. Just because it was there.

Chris has not yet completely developed an appreciation for eggplant, but I will continue to make it because I love it so much. I will temper it, for his sake, with the occasional serving of coldcuts and corned beef. I know what boys like.

Check it Out!

Gotta give a mention to my buddy Kira's new food blog... I loooove the title, and I sure as hell love that cookin'!

Kira's Food Blog

Everybody food blog!

Aaaaaand... go.

Thai Chili Garlic Paste

Nearly a year ago, I purchased a lot of new ingredients that were called for in a cookbook I got called "30-Minute Thai." I have only followed the recipes once or twice, but I've monkeyed with the ingredients quite a bit. I like to mix them with other asian ingredients, like soba noodles. I call this "Asian Fusion." Nah, you know me better than that. I call it, "My Cookbook is Too High Up and Requires a Stepladder."

You'd be hard-pressed to abuse soba noodles (which are yummy in plain broth or anything else), or fish sauce (milder than soy), but one ingredient I've had to learn to treat with respect is the thai chili garlic paste. Here's what you don't do:



Don't assume that two puny tablespoons and some olive oil for an entire bag of sliced pork tenderloin won't kill your entire family if you use it as a marinade. Because it will. As my friend J. Moy stated, "Oh hell no. That shit will blow your head off." Sure, on the jar it says, "condiment." But I can't imagine an amount of this stuff small enough for me to actually be able to use it as a topping. I dunno if we're way too caucasian, but my husband and I cried, sweated, and blew our noses through half of a pork chop each before conceding total inedibility. I was able to salvage the rest of the chops only by slicing up the leftovers and putting them into wonton soup. Whew. Which is a relief, because for a couple of days, looking at the leftovers in the fridge actually made me afraid.

Don't run from your leftovers. Here's what you can do:



Despite thai chili paste being the bad-boy in my fridge, my peanut butter has fallen deeply in love with him. And they are great together. You can mix a couple of tablespoons of peanut butter with about 1/4 teaspoon and enough olive oil and fish (or soy) sauce to thin it out, and it makes a great brush-on for chicken (with a little salt and pepper).



I now really love the chili sauce for the authentic, layered flavor it gives to the sauces you mix it with. (And let's face it, the stuff sure is economical at this concentration.) You can use it as a great toss with soba or rice noodles, too. I start with a little garlic and oil, add the merest quarter teaspoon of chili sauce, the same two tablespoons of peanut butter, and thin it with chicken stock. Add some scallions, veggies, fish sauce, and toss in the cooked noodles. I top it with crushed peanuts. I like the noodles with chicken, or fried tofu triangles.



Cut the firm tofu into the triangle shape, and roll them in corn starch. Fry them for a couple of minutes in shallow oil on each side until golden. Drain, and salt and pepper them with a little regular ol' chili and garlic powder. Crispy and savory, without the sensation that a thousand screaming-hot white dwarf suns are dying on the surface of your tongue. Which no one wants.

Schnitzels

I made these trying to make use of the giganto pork loins and chops you can purchase at Costco. I don't often buy pork, but you could make these with chicken, too. Either slice the pork loin into medallions, or debone the chop (or use the boneless chops). Then pound them flat between plastic wrap sheets. Dip them in flour, then beaten egg, then breadcrumb. I roasted mine in the oven for a less fatty effect than frying. I put them on a cookie and a roasting rack. I put mine in at 375 and checked them in a half-hour. I think.

I served them like schnitzels, with lemon wedges and applesauce. Mmm.

I am Siam

A place Chris and I like to go for some quick Thai takeout is "I am Siam" on Dundee road in Wheeling. Here's a link to the Citysearch listing, under which I believe I am the sole reviewer...) The dining room isn't very tidy, but the food is very consistent. We love the way that they package the takeout so carefully to keep the texture of everything just right by the time you get it home. They separate the breaded shrimp, the egg, the cucumber salad (which I could eat a pound of, then drink up all the dressing with a straw), etc. Good stuff, Maynard.

Mi Casita

Last time I went to see Ma, we had planned to go to Alfonso's (in Lawrenceville, IL), but when I ran in just minutes before our meal was to take place, the owner was a jerk about me using her restroom. So we decided we wouldn't ever eat there again (we are tiny, yet vengeful people).

So we trotted over to what is pretty much the only other ethnic place in town (this strike on Italian food may not be an easy one for Ma, since she lives there year-round): Mi Casita. Ma said it hasn't been there long, but she loves their food. Well, so did I! Ma had her current favorite, the "quesadilla texana." It had steak strips inside, and a seasoning like I haven't ever had. It wasn't carne asada or anything I'm familiar with, but it sure was savory:



I'm ashamed to say it, but I don't actuall remember what mine was called. I'm also ashamed to say that I tore through half of the dish before I remembered my duty to take a photograph. It was a creamy, chihuahua cheese enchilada platter, with shredded chicken in green chile sauce on the top:



I finished all of it, and you can see in the upper right, a corner of Ma's texana, too. I've had no small amount of Mexican food in my lifetime, and I've been to many places in Chicago (such as one that may have some wonderful guacamole, but was otherwise disappointing) that were much more expensive.... but I can honestly say I don't think I've ever enjoyed any Tex-Mex or Mexican meal quite so much as that one. So if you're ever in Lawrenceville (and believe me, if you are, you're gonna want ethnic food like a parched man needs water)... this is the spot!

And good thing, too, since the Italian joint is dead to me forever... Vendetta! Vendetta!