Buffalo Things

Get that? Instead of wings: "THINGS." I also almost called this post, "Buffalo Shoe Tongues," because I'm pretty sure you could cover chewy, smelly, shoe parts (borrowed from any hobo) with buffalo sauce, dip them in ranch dressing and serve them with celery and they would be irresistible. This is, however, a very good recipe, despite the fact that it seems anything under that sauce would taste good. (Or, I suppose I could have called them Buffalo'd cauliflower, which is what they are.)

I went to see the bro recently, and he took me to an eatery heretofore unknownst to me: the Veggie Grill. I hear it is growing quickly, springing up new franchises throughout California. Well, it ain't growing quickly enough, because I'm gonna dream about it until I'm in LA again.

The Veggie Grill doesn't use any animal products at all - no dairy, meat or eggs. And while I really enjoyed their "comfort" food or fast-food-style items, they are also maximizing nutrition in a lot of items (not just a straight, "hey, fries are vegan!" approach). The first time we went, two of us ordered the "All Hail Kale" salad, with "Blackened Chickin'." It was DELICIOUS. And the one in front, btw, is a lunch portion! I usually eat my kale cooked, but these dressed greens really inspired me to eat more raw kale.

Oh, and a side of mac and cheese, just because hey, I had a race the next day, so why not?

This first visit is also where I discovered their Buffalo Chickin' Wings. I discovered them on my brother's plate. I discovered most of them, and only left him a few. These really unglued all of us. I've been thinking about them since.

David also had the "All-American Stack," which he said he really liked.

We took home two pieces of the carrot cake, which I discovered was great with a glass of soy milk. I also discovered half of my brother's carrot cake as well. (Seriously, I love that guy.)

I loved this place so much that we went back the next day! This time, I had the "Baja Fiesta" salad. It was great... But I found myself wishing it were made with kale. Believe me, I've never said those words before, either.

This time, I got my own order of the "Buffalo Chickin' Wings." I think I may have shared. No, I'm pretty sure I didn't.

David went full-force, and made an entree out of two orders of the wings. You go, boy!

So, what's the damage? I looked at their newly-posted calorie counts, and sure, some of the dessert or "splurge" items can be up in the 400-500 calorie range (although most of the menu is lower). But seriously? I don't think they compare with the counts at most fast food places, and the nutrition is much denser. For contrast, I took a picture of the calorie counts at the snack bar of a local movie theater we went to:

Wow, movie theater, 1390 calories for nachos? As my husband loves to quote from the movie "Spinal Tap": "Yeah, too MUCH fak-king pehspective."

Anyway, what is a girl to do about this buffalo craving she came home with? I found this recipe from "Food Fanatics" on facebook (partially reprinted), and I made some changes to just about every line, which are reflected in the following places as noted:

Ingredients:
1 head cauliflower, cut into florets

For the batter:
Dash of Frank’s Buffalo Sauce (originally Original Hot Sauce)
1 c. white rice flour (originally 1/2 cup)
1 c. BEER (originally 1/2 cup water)
Pinch salt

For the Buffalo sauce:
1/2 c. - 1 cup Frank’s Buffalo sauce (this is double or triple the original)
1/4-1/2 c. vegan butter, melted (originally 1/4 cup canola oil)
Pinch salt

Instructions:
Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Mix together the batter ingredients in a small bowl. Dip the cauliflower in the batter until coated evenly then place on greased baking sheet (I just tossed the cauliflower florets in the batter). Bake for about 15 minutes or until the batter hardens. (I flipped them once, and ended up with about 20 minutes.)

Mix together sauce ingredients in a small bowl. Once the cauliflower are done baking, brush them with the hot sauce mixture (I tossed them in the sauce in a bowl, restaurant-style) and they have you baking again. (I just tossed the baked cauliflower in sauce and got to eating.)

I served these with my very own Vegan Ranch, which I must say is pretty fantastic. The recipe works very well - the cauliflower doesn't stick to the sprayed foil, and it cooks through. Best oven-battered anything I've had, I think!

Flank Steak Tacos

Don't fear the flank steak! I had to talk my bro into buying this inexpensive cut of meat for fajitas a couple of years ago... But it was a friend of mine (Katherine, sup girl!) who started me buying it. Lots of people think it's gonna be a stringy piece of meat. But if you cut it the right way, you won't have to spend extra time with the Waterpik because it won't stick in your teeth. (Promise).



Marinate the steak overnight (or for a few hours) in a gallon Ziploc bag with soy sauce and olive oil... You can add chopped garlic if you like. That's it! Then grill it for a few minutes on each side, according to how done you would like it. Let me say, however, that not letting it get past medium insures that it will be the most tender. Then let it rest for about ten minutes on your cutting board. (If you don't let it rest, the final product will be drier because the juices will run out.) Then, it's all about the cut. Slice the meat thinly, and at a 45 degree angle. Most importantly, make your cuts with your knife perpendicular to the fibers in the meat. In other words, cut across the grain. At this point, if the meat is much rarer than you would like, you can put the slices in a pan and the thin pieces will cook further rather quickly. (However, try and get it right on the grill, because it will be more juicy if you don't have to do this.)

Since I was putting these into tacos, I cut the slices into smaller pieces so no one had to gnaw as they went on a long slice. The hard part for us is making sure the meat makes it into the tacos, because we tend to eat it as we slice it!

BBQ Chicken Pizza and Twice-Baked Potatoes

I know I've shared my recipe for BBQ chicken in the crockpot before, but oh lord, I'm getting good at this.



It's finally got that dark mahogany color and smoky flavor that I want it to have. Here's the new and improved recipe:

two cups of ketchup
one cup of mustard, any kind
two capfuls of liquid smoke
about a quarter to a half cup of molasses
one cup of packed brown sugar
as much Red Hot sauce as you think you’ll like
one dark beer, or a couple of shots bourbon for a thicker sauce
half a medium onion, diced finely
two cloves diced garlic
a heavy shake of cumin (don’t be shy) and a shake of coriander
salt and pepper (plenty of black pepper)
two small cans of tomato paste (this is the new part - my sauce was coming out too runny)

(This is the same recipe that I printed here for the beef ribs. You can really plunge any meat ya like into this sauce, and it'll come out tasty. Or in a pinch, use shoe leather.) In this case, I put two packages of chicken into it, and cooked it for six hours. When the chicken shreds very easily with a fork, shred it all up right there in the Crockpot. This recipe makes a ton of chicken. I freeze half for another time. You can use some in tacos, on buns as sandwiches, or on a pizza (great with goat cheese and thinly sliced red onions, and more cheddar on top).



I decided some would be great on top of some twice-baked potatoes. So I made up a recipe for those, and it came out great. First, bake four potatoes. Use the big brown russet or baking potatoes for this. Scrub them, pierce them with a fork in several places, salt them liberally and put a dab of butter on top of them inside some foil. Wrap them up and bake them for about an hour to 75 minutes at 400 degrees. (I've read some recipes since that insist you don't use the foil - I'll try this next time. But I didn't want the skins to shrivel, and they didn't doing this with the foil.) When they come out, vent them a little and let them cool until you can handle them. Then scoop out most of the insides into a bowl, leaving about a half-inch of flesh. You can't really scoop all of it out, because then the skin will be too thin.

To the potato flesh, add one brick of cream cheese (light is fine). Sauté one diced half-onion and one clove of crushed garlic in a little oil, and add that to the mixture, plus a little salt. Mix, and put the mixture back in the potatoes (I had returned them to the foil I used before). Then top with cheddar, and bake at 375 degrees for about fifteen minutes.



You can top them with bacon or anything else you like. I put the BBQ chicken on top, along with scallions and light sour cream (hey, every little bit helps.)



They were mounded so high, we ended up just eating a half at a time, so it made lots of nice leftovers.

Hey, love BBQ, bacon, swearing and hardened arteries? You have to check out this post on my brother's blog (he's the funny one in the family.) But don't go if you don't like the swearing. As a matter of fact, what are you still reading my goddamn blog for?

Salad Week: Ants on a Log, and Cambezola!

Is it a salad? Well, I think so. It ain't BBQ...



(Heeeyyyy... Check out those aging carrot sticks! Appetizing, no?) I don't remember where I first saw this snack called "Ants on a Log," but I think it's cute. I like to spread it not with whole peanut butter, but instead to make a lower-fat spread first. I empty a container of lowfat or fat-free cream cheese into a bowl, add a couple of tablespoons peanut butter, a couple tablespoons of honey, and beat it with the mixer. It spreads easier, and I don't feel guilty about eating several. Then, of course, I add raisins as the "ants." Do yourself a favor: just dump out a bunch of raisins and press the "logs" into them. Don't press them one at a time onto the celery... Duh. Guess who wasted precious eating time on that endeavor?

This is really a kid-type snack, but last time my brother visited, he and my husband were content to snack on these with a couple of beers while I made dinner. And no, my house is not nearly so misogynist as that sounds. Because I totally deserved the beating they gave me before that.

And here's a little "double," since I didn't post on Sunday (I was sweating my baby off at the Brewer's game. What was I thinking? Deadly heartburn set in from the nachos supreme, my hands got to be the size of boxing mitts, and my feet took on a Flintstone-like appearance. Fred, not Wilma. We left at the seventh.)

They sell a bastard cheese at Trader Joe's called Cambezola! (And no, I can't say that without the exclamation mark attached at the end. The name reminds me of some type of drug-fueled sixties happening.) It appears to be a combo of Camembert and Gorgonzola, and is quite good, and it makes a fantastic snack with green apples. You'll feel like you're eating... Well... salad!

Marinara Sauce from Scratch

I have some friends who, since the advent in recent years of competitive cooking shows, have flattered me by saying that I should try out for one of those shows. The truth is, I am really just someone who likes to eat, and experiment at home. I have no clue as to certain types of cooking technique. There are areas I just haven't ventured into yet (see the following), and areas I never intend to venture into (why would I try and make great Chicago-style pizza at home when Lou Malnati's makes the perfect pie?) I would be sure to make a total ass of myself on national television. Want a for instance? Here is my shame: until last summer, I never ever made marinara sauce from scratch - meaning, from real, whole, fresh tomatoes.

But you can't say that about me now!



I have friends, blog-reading friends, and adamant strangers tell me that (especially as an Italian) I should be loaded into a cannon and shot straight into hell for not making my sauce from scratch every week. Maybe they're right. But how do you sustain this 100% of the time? Humbly and truly, I just do not get it. The sauce I was taught to make comes from canned tomatoes. That's not really "from scratch." (Maybe that's what some of these people mean, as opposed to jar sauce. Well, if that's what they mean, then THEY'RE not making sauce from scratch, either.) Anyway, that's all I've ever done: either dad's sauce or marinara from canned tomatoes, or a good jar sauce when in a hurry, sick, or hung-over. (I know, I know. But don't throw your tomatoes. Save them for sauce!)



Here's what happened. Ma came to visit, and brought (sorry Ma) a SHIT-ton of beautiful, fresh tomatoes and a lorry-load of okra. What I usually do with tomatoes from her garden is grab a salt shaker, slice, and eat. But this was more than we could have gotten through before the fully ripe beauties went bad. We ate our fill (she, Chris and I) at every meal, and I still had a ton left when she left. So I called my brother and said, "How the hell do I do this?" He said to wash up the tomatoes (natch) and to dip them for a minute or two in boiling water. Then you could peel off the skin, and seed them. These garden tomatoes were so ripe, I just had to run them under hot tap water. I peeled off the skin, split them open in my hands, and scooped out the seeds with my fingers. I set them all aside in a bowl.

I heated a deep skillet with some olive oil, then heated some garlic in it. I finely diced as much onion as I wanted in it, then heated that. I added some "baby bellos," (small portobello mushrooms), and sweated those. Then I added the tomatoes, as much fresh oregano and basil as I thought proper, and some red wine. I kept letting it cook down, adding salt, pepper and about a bit of sugar as I went (it cuts the acid). I just kept tasting it, and soon it was definitely sauce. Whoopee! The bellos are optional, and I like to add a bit of red pepper flakes, but if you don't care for a spicier sauce, you could leave that out, too. You could add green pepper but... guh. Not for this kid.

I had plenty of sauce left over for pizza and pasta throughout the week, so perhaps if I ever get a deep freeze and the garden going next year, I can make enough over a summer to ALWAYS make my sauce from scratch (or at least defrost it that way).

Hooters Hot Wings

Chris and I both like buffalo wings. My favorites are actually the ones my brother used to fry up in the kitchen at Ruby Tuesday's, when he and I both worked there. That was twelve years ago now (wow.) He would always make his crazy off-the-menu hot, not so hot for me.

Now Ruby's is under new ownership (the whole chain, that is), and I dunno if their wings are the same or not. Chris likes the wings at the Ram Brewery, and they are actually the ones that remind me most of the ones that David used to make back when. But you know what? I think my favorites are the buffalo wings at Hooters. (I'm taking you to the menu here, sparing you the chatty waitress on the homepage. Click on "chicken wings.") They are breaded (you can get them without), and more like fried chicken. The hot sauce is sort of inside the breading, so you don't get the sauce all over your face (but if you're me, you get the bleu cheese there, anyway.)

Remember when opening a new Hooters was the talk of the town? I remember a big hoopla when they first opened one in Champaign. I dunno why people complained. I'm not really into women being objectified or anything, but I'm just saying that no one seemed to have a problem with the strip clubs just outside of town. The Hooters waitresses are dressed, after all. Somewhat.

I started eating at a Hooters when I lived in Nashville. It was literally in my backyard. I was shy about going in at first, and soon I was going by myself to sit down to a beer and some wings on the way back from work. The menu was more limited then... I seem to remember maybe burgers, an open-faced steak sandwich, the wings, and not much else. Chris likes their burgers.



Now Hooters has salads, healthier options, blah blah blah. I'll probably never try any of those things, because I don't know if I can go in there and not get the hot wings.



Chris accompanied me on a recent trip to get a replacement part for a sofa I had purchased out at Woodfield Mall (I can never buy a piece of assembly-required furniture that doesn't have a broken piece, it seems) and I practically hijacked the car when we drove past Hooters. I know he's been worried about the amount we've been eating out/driving through lately, but what can I do? When baby wants wings, baby wants wings.

Actually, I wonder if it was the hooters baby wanted...

Enjoy Your Lunch with Grendel

I am so sorry about my infrequent posting of late... I have been cooking all week, however, just to keep myself sane in between the house-hunting. We put an offer on a house, which we have retracted based on the results of the home inspection. That's one that we paid for with real money, and one inspection by a lovely architect named Marco that we met through my friend Maira. We paid Marco with a bolognese pasta dinner I made him. And fudge.

I have a few photos of that for later, but for now I have something that you must read. My brother is the funniest person on earth, and when you read this account of his lunch with his boss (have a strong stomach), you'll see that I'm in no way biased.

Kinder Surprise

I've told you how much I love Joe Caputo's grocery store. Let me tell you how much. I dunno if you've read between the lines here, but Chris and I were seriously considering a move to Portland, which is just a wonderful place (now we'll find out if Chris' mom is really reading this blog.) We have 80-85% decided against it, and for Chris the big reasons are because his family and his sports teams are here. For me, the reasons to stay are the theatre scene and the extra-work I've been doing here, the fact that I am a true cold-weather jogger, the job that I love, and Joe Caputo's. Not necessarily in that order. I also just know that my cat wouldn't go poo for the entire three days it might take to get out there, and then he would detonate. He's a nervous poo-er.

So I got to take Ma into Caputo's when she was here, and she loved it, too. In the checkout line, which is always long, I freaked when I noticed this:



Ma has a degree in French, and she's always loved all things French. When Dave and I were kids, she had Asterix and Obelix hardcover books around the house, which she would generally have to read to us (as they were in French, and I think the Romans spoke in Latin.) The names translate to Asterisk (because he is the small one), and Obelisk (because he is the large one.) Anyway, later on, cartoons of the two appeared on the Disney Channel, if memory serves... And they were hilarious. The cartoon is based on Gaul's resistance to Roman occupation. The Gaul's drink a potion that makes them stronger, all except for Obelix -- who fell in a vat of it as a baby.

Caputo's has a wide selection of not only Italian stuff, but lots of imported food. So I had to grab one of the egg toys, for old times sake. They were little chocolate eggs with a prize inside of "Asterix and the Vikings."



When you open it, there is a little egg capsule inside the chocolate:



And inside the egg capsule is a figure and a comic! I was hoping to get Obelix, but I got a Viking. Still neat.



Le Gaulois en vie long!

Butterscotch Sauce

Hello again, everyone! I am going to do a brief "comeback" post tonight, as a prelude to more in the coming week. I have been gone for a couple of weeks, here and there as I said, and in the last two days we have had a price negotiation, followed by an acceptance of an offer on our place. I am so excited. Chris, of course, has found a January move to be a new source of things to get nervous about and dread. But that's just his brand of anticipation.

I'm on a bit of a health kick at the moment, brought on by a feast of a Thanksgiving... But more on that later. For now, let me show you one of the sinful indulgences that brought on my currently healthy diet: butterscotch sauce. Oh, and pie. And ice cream.



At Chris' parents' house, I didn't have something to put on my ice cream (besides the raspberries, but you know, I mean something bad.) So I stuck some butterscotch morsels and a spoonful of milk in the microwave for about 20-30 seconds, and stirred them until they melted. Oh Katie, bar the door. Anyway, I came home and by happy chance, I had some butterscotch chips in the fridge, too! And I made myself a petite sundae each night with Slow Churned Light Praline until all the morsels were gone.



Hoo boy. I am going to be very, very good for awhile. Until David gets here at Christmas.

Caribbean Bratwurst

Okay, y'all are gonna think I'm crazy after this one. I mean, if you didn't already.



Sometimes pulling together everything in the fridge into a coherent... something is a challenge, even for me (only because I think I have my Dad's gift for that.) And when turkey bratwurst is buy one, get one free, that's a lot of brats if there aren't any cookouts on your calendar. And no buns in the fridge.

But I was up for it. I had an idea for a spicy, fruit-based Caribbean-style bean dish kicking around in my head, and adding brats to that didn't seem too crazy. They're a spicy meat, after all... So I chopped the brats and sautéed them with diced onion and garlic. Then I added chopped green apples (which was also something I needed to use.) I always keep the skin on, because there's a lot of nutrients there, and flavor, too. When those had softened just the tiniest bit, I added:

1 can of kidney beans (rinsed and drained)
1 can of pinto beans (rinsed and drained)
¼ - ½ jar of Trader Joe's Mango purée (peach sauce or apple sauce would work, too)
a generous dusting of mexican seasoning
extra spice -- some extra cayenne pepper or red pepper flakes
a handful of cashews
a handful of golden raisins

I topped it with a dollop of low fat sour cream (or yogurt is also nice), and put it on brown rice. I really, really liked it. It was like spicy meat candy, in a phrase that sounds like something my brother might say. Mmmmm. Meat candy...

But it was also low fat and high in nutrients and fiber. It had lots of textures and flavors... what's not to like?

Dad's Pasta Sauce

Okay, here it is -- the big one. Our dad's pasta sauce. Which he never would have called it. This is really Dad's "tomato gravy." Born to Sicilian parents on Long Island and raised in Queens, the word "pasta" was not really in Dad's lexicon. All pasta was called "macaroni," and the sauce was "red sauce" or "tomato gravy."

This is how his mother taught him to make sauce. As a side note, I'd like to address those who say that meatballs in sauce are not Italian. You don't know what you're talking about. The meatball is "native" to many European cultures, including Italy. You may not find Italians putting meatballs right on the pasta (it is more common for them to be served on the side), however, Sicilian-Americans definitely do. They (we) also tend to make meatballs larger than they do in the more northern regions, and we cook the meatballs (at least partially) right in the sauce. I've heard Alton Brown say that "he's never seen an Italian do that..." Well, he never came to our house I guess. Anyway, authentic native Italian food or not -- this is authentic Americano Siciliano food, you can believe that.



Dad's "gravy" is a vegetarian's worst nightmare. A veritable slaughterhouse buffet, the variety of meats contained in the sauce is the whole linchpin to the flavor. Without the meat, it is just runny red stuff. However, we didn't eat this stuff every day -- the way to do it is to freeze a few batches for later, or the arrival of last-minute company. Making this sauce is one of the only occasions on which I will buy red meat to prepare at home. And truly, it just has to be red meat. I've tried the sauce with all turkey-based products, and the outcome is nothing similar. So if you're gonna do it, go for it, and ask the animals' spirits to forgive you afterwards.

The sauce contains the Holy Meat Trinity: meatballs, Italian sausage, and short ribs. David prefers to use a leaner meat, like pork chops, instead of the short ribs (we argued about this once in the meat section of the grocery store). Well, Dad tended to use what was on sale. But for me, my memory is strongly attached to that tender short-rib meat falling off the bone after slow-cooking. You can fish the bones out before serving.

You prepare the meatballs, sausage, and short ribs as follows. Then you simmer them all in sauce, in a gigantic sauce pot or a couple of large standard pots, for half the day. That's pretty much it. So here are the ingredients, one at a time:

Meatballs:
I like to use about three pounds of meatloaf mixture, or a mix of beef, pork, and veal. (I usually do the beef and pork). Again, it is the mix of different types of meat that is really key here.

Add to that:

• about a half cup of Italian-seasoned breadcrumb


• one meduim, thinly diced yellow onion


• two or three cloves of minced garlic


• about 1/2 cup finely chopped parsely


• two eggs


• one cup of milk and a little water


• salt and pepper


• a couple of shots of worcheshire sauce

Hand-mix the meatball mixture. Start slowly with the breadcrumb -- too much will take away from the flavor of the meatballs, and cause your cantankerous Zia to complain that "those meatballs were just terrible... that's all I gotta say." Make sure that the mixture is still moist when you form the meatballs, but not too wet.

Dad used to brown the meatballs in oil. To me, this is a bit time-consuming, and adds a little more fat than you really need for flavor. I prefer to put the meatballs on tin foil atop a cookie sheet in a really hot oven while I brown the rest of the meat. You have to brown all the meat. You need that caramel-y flavor, and it seals the juices inside the meat. Trust me, I've skipped it before. Don't skip it. The meatballs, especially, will fall apart in the sauce if you skip this part. So -- 375-400 degrees, for ten to fifteen minutes. They just need to be brown on the outside, and they will still be raw on the inside. Note: Let the sauce simmer for about an hour-and-a-half before you add the meatballs, or else they will fall apart too early.

Sausage:
I use one package of sausage, but I will split one package of hot Italian sausage with one package sweet sausage, so that I have one package of half-and-half, and then save the other package for later in the freezer.

Brown the sausage in a skillet, and then place them in a large sauce pot. Again, the meat will be raw inside.

Short Ribs:
I use two packages. I like to trim some of the mega-fat off the ribs, but not all of it. I also trim off the membrane that's on the side. Then I sprinkle the meat with garlic powder, salt, and black pepper. Then you brown the meat in a skillet, drain them a bit on paper towels, and put them each in the large pot with the sausage.

Sauce:
These proportions will make the one giant batch of sauce that dad used to make:

• Two large cans of tomato puree (I think it is 32 oz., but truthfully I don't even look anymore. There's one in the next picture.)


• Two small cans of tomato paste


• One of each empty can (one puree can, and one paste can), filled with mostly water and a little wine


• Three or four minced cloves of garlic


• Italian seasoning to taste -- about 1/8 to 1/4 cup (use minced fresh oregano and basil if ya got 'em)


• A sprinkle of red pepper flakes, to taste


• Salt (start with about 1/8 cup or a couple healthy pinches) and pepper

Making it:
This takes at least four hours. Five is better. Stir all the ingredients, starting slowly on all the seasonings. Then bring it to a boil, and lower it to a simmer. Every twenty minutes or so, use a tablespoon to skim off the deep red grease from the top. When you've skimmed it, stir it again. Wait and then skim, stir again. After an hour or two, add the meatballs and continue. If it needs more seasoning, add it. The sauce starts off very watery, but remember, it will reduce and thicken a lot with the lid off. If it thickens too much, you add more wine or more water.

My problem was that some of the meat always stuck and burned to the bottom, no matter how diligently I stirred it. I think this is because I can't shell out the dough for a decent stock pot (large ones with a non-stick base are expensive), and the metal on mine is very thin. Also, all that meat sinks and there is so much of it, it becomes very difficult to push it around without breaking it all apart.

So I came up with a solution. Now, I brown all my meat, lots and lots of it, and split it into smaller batches (still raw inside.) I put packets that each contain a few meatballs, a couple of sausages (halved so that they are easier to manage on a fork), and a couple of short ribs into the freezer in foil. Then, when I want sauce, I just unwrap one packet of frozen meat and put it into the crock pot (including the meatballs -- you can add them all at once this way). I add half of the amount of liquid in a normal batch: one can puree, one can paste, and about one can (of the puree) or the water and red wine. I season it, turn it on, put the lid on it, and walk away for five hours. Then I only skim it once or twice just before we eat it. Much easier, and no burning at the bottom.



I know it seems complicated, but really it is so simple, and you can feed an army with one batch. Or your family, four or five times if you freeze batches of the finished sauce.

And you gotta go all the way if you've come this far -- tons and tons of parmesano or romano, and real garlic bread to mop up what the pasta left behind.

Mangiare bene! E la ringrazia, il papa!

Bobazzi Curry

I'm baaaack! Sorry I've been away so long... The good news is, it seems like more people than ever are reading the blog, and having nice things to say about it. The bad news is, I've taken this particular opportunity to post not so often. Nice, right? Well, I graduate in two months, and I think I'll get my life back somewhat after that. It will be on to part-time work for me (as dad used to say, "Lord willing and the waters don't rise.")

I'm stealing my brother's descriptor again to title this chicken curry. My parents used to make chicken curry pretty often when I was a kid, and serve it over rice. They made it with a milk-and-flour-base, yellow curry powder, onion, apples, peas and chicken. I have tried it a few times, and I varied it a little for this recipe... I've patterned it more after the creamy coconut milk curry you get in Thai restaurants. The curry really became a whole "nother thing," and it's just as easy, or easier to make than the other type.



I started by pan-searing chicken breasts with Thai curry powder (plenty of it), and salt, pepper, and garlic powder. I cooked them just about through, but I don't worry about it too much. They'll be going into the curry sauce, and will finish cooking pretty quickly. So you just remove it from the pan, let is sit a bit, and then chop the breasts into chunks.



Back in the pan, I added a little oil more oil than usual, (about a quarter cup or less), garlic, chopped onion, and several tablespoons of Trader Joe's macadamia nut and cashew butter. I wanted to use this as a thickener, in place of the flour. If that isn't available to you, I think peanut butter would work just as well -- though you'd probably have a more distinctive peanut flavor.

When that was stirred in together and nicely melty, I added the chicken, and two cans of light coconut milk. I brought the heat up through everything, and let it all thicken.

Taking a little more help from Trader Joe's, I chopped the microwavable fingerling potatoes and added those in (I've since made this with Yukon potatoes I cooked first). I added salt and more curry powder, coriander and a little cayenne to taste. I dropped some green peas in at the last moment (frozen, Market Day, natch) and served it over brown rice.



I have since garnished the curry with diced red bell pepper and scallions, and some toasted slivered almonds. Next time, I think I will try adding some green apples to the sautee (something that will hold up to the heat) as my folks used to do. Doesn't match the Thai "pattern" so much, but for me, it'd be nostalgic. Probably would be good with some golden raisins, too!

Camera Phone!

I sent my brother a text message today saying, "I got a picture phone!" along with a picture I snapped of the framed photo of he and I that is on my mantle. He immediately texted me back with an accompanying picture, saying,

"Yay! Check out these pancakes!"

Chicken Parmigiana

My favorite places to eat in my hometown, as a kid and as a teenager, included some of the following (in no particular order):

• Pee-Wee Golf (for sliders)


• Hardee's (for frozen cookie dough)


• Jiffy's (now Bill's Diner on Kennedy Drive, a great place itself) where you used to be able to phone in your order from your table to the kitchen -- also, they had a jukebox at each table


• Monical's Pizza


• Aurelio's Pizza (my favorite still, thank goodness for the one in Addison)


• Chicago Dough Pizza


• Woolworth's (eat chicken nuggets, homemade pie and a cherry Coke with REAL cherries at the counter, then look at the parakeets and the Colorforms all in the same place! Jaffee Drug still has a soda fountain/counter open...)


• Jesse's Fine Dining (champaign chicken, seafood bar, or a black-cherry glazed bird -- fancy)


• Hunan Chen on Court Street


• Mickey's Gyros -- which reminds me of Jen's little brother Jason going, "TWOGYROPLAATES!" like he's yelling to the back of the kitchen


• Davidson's West on Court -- a favorite of the Kankaee Valley Theatre crowd in my later years


• Blue's Cafe -- Dad used to meet his buddies there, and bring me sometimes, too. Great food, still kicking.


• Howard Johnson's for hot dogs with buttered, toasted buns, or fried clams. For my first grade birthday dinner, I selected Howard Johnson's.


• Hunk's, for clown pancakes


• Lum's with mom, where I always ordered the French dip sandwich and stared at the Picasso and Matisse prints on the walls


• The Golden Bear, and I swear mom used to bring me to a Sambo's, a restaurant chain with perhaps innocuous, yet subtly racist overtones... Maybe that was in Carbondale?


• The Redwood Inn smogasbord... we came up with the word "bevam?" that expressed how they guy at the end of the line always asked "beef or ham?" in a quick, mashed-together way


• Mother McGee's, where my parents could get cocktails, and I had escargot for the first time


• Jaenicke's for sauce buns, and I'm sorry, but the one in Bourbonnais is better


• Boz Hot Dogs, for Italian beef, not hot dogs (you go to Jaenicke's or HoJo's for that!)


• Poor Boy Restaurant on Court (Dad knew the owner, and she'd drop off beans and cornbread or shrimp po' boys at the house)


• Dionne's in Momence (I always felt so fancy, and imagined my future life would be eating at places like this every week)


• Ryan's Pier in Manteno


• Sam n' Ella's on the river... and if you're not from the area, seriously, that was the name! They had great food and and unbeatable view.


• Town and Country, the red building out on Rte. 17. We used to get shish-kebab and duck there, or liver with onions. Dee-licious.


• Council Table (though I always just got cereal)

I'm sure there are more that have slipped my mind... a lot of these places have been closed for years. Does anyone have any memories to add? I would love to hear them... I plan on doing individual posts on some of these in the future.

Anyway, none of these places compared to "The Little Corporal" restaurant. The Little Corporal was a Napoleonic-themed diner in the front of the building, with drum-shaped table lights and French soldier figures throughout. I kid you not. You could sit in a generous booth, or at the large counter in the center of the diner. As you walked towards the back, you first encountered the restrooms. (I can't vouch for the men's room, but the ladies' was painted bright pink.) In the rear of the building, there was more of a nightclub atmosphere, with runner lights and a piano bar. (And those rumors that Barry Manilow got his start, and got fired from the Little Corporal? Well, those aren't rumors, friends.) The seating in the rear was my absolute favorite: striped Napoleonic tents over each private booth, with the names of different French generals, and pennants at the top. Many were the times my father sweet-talked the lunch-shift waitresses into letting us sit back there in the daytime (turning into rather long lunches when they subsequently forgot we were there.) The place was too good to be true.

I always ordered the same thing at the Little Corporal: the veal parmigiana. It came on top of spaghetti with meat sauce, and lost beneath a blanket of mozzarella cheese. Early in my high school years, I found out how veal is raised, and I've never eaten it since. The last time I had veal was probably at the Little Corporal.

Now, when I get that craving for the Napoleonic/Italian/trashy diner fare of my youth, I make it with chicken. (I know, I play favorites with my meat.) I pound the cutlets, dip them in flour, then egg, then breadcrumb and fry them up. Then I place them atop a mountain of pasta in a baking dish.



Then, I load it with enough cheese to fill up the Kankakee Valley, and bake it with some foil loosely over the top. If the cheese isn't bubbly and golden enough after everything is heated through, I take off the foil and broil it for a few.



Then I simply make a general's tent with the bedsheets, and I'm ready for my stroll down memory lane... Quite a FEW strolls, and Chris and I can separate this into several meals and eat chicken parmigiana all week long.



Sadly, the Little Corporal is now some pizza place, and I think part of it is called Liquor World or something. When the restaurant closed, I skipped the opportunity to attend an auction for some of the items, and I have since seen a few things show up on Ebay... I do still have a coffee-cup shaped magnet from the Little Corporal that was on our refrigerator for many, many years. I had it in my pocket when I went to the Barry Manilow concert last year at the Allstate Arena just in CASE I got called up on stage and could get him to sign it. Didn't happen.

Oh well... I'll always have my memories (and the parmigiana.)

Cha Cha Cha!

On the way to the airport, we had our last culinary experience in L.A. over Christmas break. We went to Cha Cha Cha in Silverlake, or Que Cha Cha Cha, depending upon where you read their title. It is Caribbean cuisine in the coolest, most laid back setting. The atmosphere is similar to a couple of places Dave has taken us in L.A.: they seem as though there is little more than a tin roof over your head, and the line that distinguishes "inside" from "out" is definitely blurred. The parking lot outside is tiny, and despite the relaxed and sort of funky-junky atmosphere, the Jags and BMW's are crammed into the little lot. You may even spot a celebrity! I think the word is out about how good this place is.

We started with the empa?aditas and the jerk pork. Both were fantastic. The empa?aditas are stuffed with squash, tomatoes and other veggies, and goat and mozzarella cheeses. The pork was super sweet and syrupy, but just as spicy. We gobbled it all.



David and I followed with the swordfish caesar salads. The fish was chargrilled to perfection.



Chris hadn't had his fill of jerk yet, so he ordered the jerk chicken salad. He said it hit the spot.



I will most definitely request a return visit on our next stop in L.A. And maybe we'll be as lucky as David and his friend Heather were before us, and run into one of our favorite recording artists who may be nice enough to let us take his picture.



But even if we don't see anyone famous (we didn?t on the way to the airport), it'll be well worth it. Who cares about celebrities when you have jerk pork this good? I want to try everything on the menu at this place!

Sushi is Better Fried

Two more posts about Cali... Whoops, three. And then it's back to my own cooking! I'm having problems with the internet connection, but Lord willing and the waters don't rise, I'll post them all today.

We went out for sushi at a place near Dave called Miyako (you can even view the whole menu online at this site. Will revisit this page later...) It was really delicious. This post features more of Dave's camera phone photos. I gots ta git me one of those.

We started off with an appetizer of tempura-fried jalepe?os with cream cheese and tuna in them. They had a delicious, creamy and spicy sauce on top. I could have eaten an order by myself.



I'm not crazy about sashimi, but I do love the photos of it. I'm always tempted by the new craft stuff online in the shape of it -- jewelry and pillows and stuff -- although I don't really eat it.



The sushi rolls we got are lined up in the photo in the order I liked them best (just by coincidence -- even my OCD knows certain limits.)



The first was either the Aloha or the Caterpillar roll... It had mango around the outside, which may have been pickled or treated in some way, because it wasn't as juicy or as citrus-y as we would have liked. The middle was the Philadelphia roll, with smoked salmon and Philly cream cheese, and it was very good. The Tempura Shrimp rolls on the right were my fave, because how can you beat anything fried? The sauce on it was also delicious.

It was a great meal, and we all left feeling full for not too much money... But not bursting at the seams. Mmmm, sushi. Meat without the regret!

Family and Fajitas

Okay, just three more posts about my trip to California. I told you we ate a lot. Oh, and about that posting every day thing? Well, I aimed for "every day," but I landed on "a lot more often." So that's something, right?



On day two, we made our own fajitas. Dave has a huge charcoal grill on his large balcony, and any trip to visit him must include what he calls "smoky meats." Dave and I share a huge love of fajitas, and this dish, with its accompanying massive trip to the grocery store, pretty much happens automatically. And I think we get better at it each time.



With us, cooking usually includes a little bickering, as well. What kind of meat do we remember Dad using in his sauce? Does lettuce wilt in the presence, or absence of liquid? Is is easier to skim the fat off the broth when it is hot, or cold? We are both Alpha Cooks, which means we are equally hard to convince that our way isn't the best way. And we are territorial about our kitchens. See, when you come to our house, it is understood that we are cooking for you. So I think that having me hovering over David telling him "how I would do it" is just about the limit of what he can stand. And what's more, it is his kitchen. His rules. Me and my hours of Food TV and my fancy laws of physics can just about kiss his ass.

But considering that our model for "cooking together" is either A) my father pushing my mother clear out of the kitchen, or B) our father and his sister screaming at one another at the top of their lungs, I think we do pretty well. In the end, he lets me do things my way quite a lot. And what we make together is inevitably tasty. The entertainment for our guests is just a bonus!

In this instance, he allowed me to convince him to pick up some flank steak for the fajitas. All the stuff he'd had was sort of stringy and tough. But I told him that my friend Katherine showed me how to cut it properly -- across the bias, or perpendicular to the direction that the fibers run in. This gives it lots more elasticity and tenderness. And thanks to my friend Pen, I use a very simple and tasty marinade that works for any red meat: olive oil and soy sauce. (If you have a little sesame or chili oil to toss in for flavor, that's great too.) You can add garlic, salt, and pepper. I also added a little of David's Tapatio sauce to it.

It came out really tender, and Dave cooked it and sliced it perfectly. It melted in your mouth. (Even if you don't like your meat quite this pink, I would recommend it. The beef gets tossed into the fajita sauce at the last moment, so it cooks just a bit more at that time. You don't want it well-done when you toss it in.)



On day two of the Guacamole Bender. I made what I think was the best guac we had out there. I was really just imitating what I've seen them do in our favorite Mexican restaurants in the mortar and pestle. I used very finely diced jalepeno, red onion, cilantro, fresh garlic (Dave has the coolest garlic press...), salt and pepper, and plenty of lime juice. We ate 3/4 of it before I remembered to take a picture, shown atop Dave's work-in-progress mosaic table.



Dave likes the combo fajitas, so we cooked chicken, too. The marinade for this was just margarita salt, pepper, olive oil, lime juice and chopped cilantro. We sliced it after grilling and put it atop the peppers and onions that we added butter, chicken stock, and Worcheshire sauce to at the very end. Then we added the sliced beef, and chowed down with all the fajita fixings. Juicy!



I really miss my brother. The ones you bicker with are the ones who understand you best!