What a Difference a Baby Makes

Cooking is my hobby. As far as hobbies go, cooking is a great one. You have to eat, so you might as well enjoy it. I love every part of the process: from reading cooking articles, dreaming up menus, and shopping for the best ingredients to chopping, stirring, and simmering to serving and eating. (Cleaning up is the one part of the project that I don't love. I now have a dishwasher and am thankful for it every single day.)

I didn't realize how much time I actually invested in preparing our meals everyday until I had a baby. When I was working a full-time office job, I still cooked something from scratch almost every night. I shunned any convenience or prepackaged items, thinking that it was a cop out. I even would make whipped cream with a whisk instead of using an electric mixer.

Within the last two months, however, my tune has changed. Now, I look at a meal and try to figure out how I can prepare it between nursings, diaper changes, and playtime. I have presliced mushrooms in the fridge. I have a stocked up freezer and cook extras so that there are leftovers for the next night.

I'm hoping that eventually things will settle down a bit and I can return to luxuriating over dinner prep. Yet, I still know that some of the things I have come to accept over the past few months are worthwhile time savers. A stocked freezer is nice, leftovers should be enjoyed, and a few short cuts wont affect the flavor.

Restocking My Asian Pantry

There are certain Asian-inspired dishes that I make over and over again. A few of my favorites include peanut noodles, sesame tuna, wasabi vinaigrette, and chicken curry. I know that I am not super authentic in my preparation methods, but I do like to have a few special items on-hand so that I can whip up one of these dishes without assembling a big shopping list.

I had a stash in the pantry in Germany. However, when we came back to the German states, the German movers would not pack any food or liquids. That meant that today I took a trip over to the Asian food market on Duraleigh just off 70.

Here I stocked up on assorted sundries such as soy sauce, mirian (a sweet rice wine), rice wine vinegar, wasabi, sesame seeds, and sushi rice. One thing that was missing from the shop was a good assortment of Thai curry pastes. The shopping trip created a hankering for some chicken curry, so I decided to head over to Whole Foods, thinking that they would have some.

As expected, they did have a choice of red or green curry paste. I was shocked, however, when I compared the prices of the Asian ingredients that I had just purchased a few miles away with what was on the shelves here. Everything was so much more expensive.

I still need to find a good source for curry paste, but I'm glad to know what not to get at Whole Foods.

Food Blogger in Training

I was worried that my niece -- a rather picky eater -- would have a hard time dealing with German cooking. Luckily, she'll eat just about an type of meat, so we didn't have a problem at all. Also, I found it ironic that she -- the same person who told me to stop writing about food on my other blog -- took a picture of every single thing she ate during her week abroad. Here is a collection of some of the highlights:

Dutch pancakes with chocolate at Pancake! in Amsterdam.

A pork steak sandwich at the Christmas market in Cologne.

A chocolate-covered apple qualifies as a fruit one day.

German Christmas cookies in Cochen couldn't be passed up.

Who doesn't love fries?

A Turkey for Me

I've written about my German butcher before. He's awesome and has great quality meats. And for Thanksgiving he didn't let me down.
I ordered a 16-pound turkey about a week ahead of time. On Thursday morning, Kevin and picked up the fresh bird. To my surprise, the turkey was a bit larger then expected. This year's bird was nearly 20 pounds. Considering I had barley fit last year's turkey in the over, I had reservations about fitting this one, but took the bird home any way.

Once home I set up what I refer to as the poultry spa. The turkey pampering starts with a nice salt-water bath. I brined the turkey for four hours in a large cooler filled with salt water. Before roasting, I pat the turkey dry, stuffed it with a chestnut dressing, and trussed it up good and tight. (This was as much to get it into the over as to keep it moist.)

I massaged the turkey with butter, generously sprinkled it with salt and pepper, and then put it into the oven. (Actually my Mom put it in the oven -- at 32 weeks pregnant I didn't think wrestling an over-sized bird into an under-sized oven seemed like a good idea.) The "turkey sauna" consisted of 45 minutes at 375 degrees, then another 3 hours at 350 degrees.

I managed to baste it a few times, but didn't obsess about not being able to reach the back of the bird. After letting it rest of an hour, the turkey was ready to carve. Everything sliced beautifully. The meat was moist and rich and delicious. We even had plenty of drippings for plenty of gravy to ladle generously on everyone's plates.

Thanksgiving Prep

Since I will have visitors that entire week before Thanksgiving, I've decided to become one of those cooks who have a much as possible done ahead of time. This isn't natural for me, but with some effort, I think I may be able to pull off a great dinner without logging the whole week in the kitchen. Here's my menu and game plan.

Appetizers:

• Fruit, cheese, crackers, baguette, nuts; everything here will be purchased and simply needs to be arranged

Dinner:

• Turkey - needs to be cooked on Thursday; I had ordered a fresh bird, so no defrosting will be required
• Gravy - today's New York times had an article about making gravy ahead of time; I don't plan on using the recipe posted, which required two hours to roast turkey parts and six hours to simmer the stock, but I like the idea of making a basic gravy ahead of time with a quick turkey stock, freezing it, then warming it on Thursday while whisking in the juices from the roasted bird
• Mashed potatoes - will be made on Thursday, hopefully one of the few things to be cooked at the last minute
• Sweet potatoes - I am going to make a sweet potato tart; the crust is a basic pizza crust, which I'll make ahead of time and freeze; the sweet potato filling can also be made in advance and frozen; on Thursday everything needs to be assembled and baked; baking takes only a few minutes, so I'll bake it at the last minute while the turkey is resting
• Stuffing - I am making chestnut stuffing, which will be baked outside of the bird; this will be assembled the night before and baked in the morning; I'll reheat it with the pizza
• Green beans - the beans can be trimmed the night before and simple steamed on Thursday; I'll toss them with a lemon vinaigrette and fried shallot
• Cranberry sauce - can be made any night next week and stored in the fridge
• Creamed onion - can be made on the stove top on Thursday
  

Dessert

• Apple pie - I made the dough over the weekend and plan to bake the pies tonight; I'll freeze the pies and warm them just before serving
• Pumpkin spice cake - I roasted the pumpkin on Sunday and baked the layers yesterday; on Thursday all I have to do is ice it
• Congo bars - I still haven't decided what to do about these yet; I am hoping pecans will magically appear

Good Eats

Yesterday I told readers on Überall that Kevin and I will be moving back to the states the first week in December. The prospect of leaving Germany has forced me to start thinking about what food I'll miss:

• Sausages -- I can't believe I've been in German for over a year and I am still able to find at least one new sausage every week for the "Wurst of the Week" feature on Überall
• Quark -- I know I've told you that you can made it yourself, but it's so much easier to simply pick it up at the grocery store
• The organic biscuits from DM's Bio line -- they organic and dark chocolate...what else can I say
• Apfelschole -- Kevin and I both have come to love this carbonated apple juice
• Mustard in a tube -- It's both funny and easy
• Pork products -- I really think they are just a little more delicious here

Chocolate Chip Cookies

Even though the average German eats over 18 pounds of chocolate per year (American's consume only 11 and a half pounds per year) I haven't been able to find a chocolate chips here. That's why when Kevin's parents came to visit last month I asked them to bring some chocolate chips. I am now in possession of the world's largest bag of Nestle Toll House Morsels.
Not that I'm complaining. I love to make chocolate chip cookies to share with European friends. They are 100 percent American.
This weekend, however, a real apron caper occurred in my kitchen. Kevin donned an apron and decided to make a batch of cookies himself. (His first ever!) I watched the entire process, but didn't help a bit.

I'm please to report that Kevin's first foray into the world of backing was extremely successful. Following Nestlé’s recipe to a t, the cookies were perfect!

What the Duck?

A few weeks ago a French friend invited us to dinner at her house. She had recently returned from her summer vacation in the French countryside, where she discovered an amazing butcher. She brought back cans of his Duck confit. Even though I thought that I didn't like duck, I accepted the invitation. We'd been talking about getting together for dinner for weeks and I didn't want to spoil the momentum of the plan.

The first time I tried duck, I was in high school. We had gone out to a "fancy restaurant" with a limited menu. It was that or the steak, and I was going through a (brief) no red-meat phase. The bird was too gamey for my 17-year-old pallet.

The second time I tried it was years later at a Thai restaurant in the East Village. My date was outraged that I, who claimed to (cringe) "be a foodie," didn't like duck. He insisted that I try the duck something-or-other that night. In the end, I found it too greasy. Needless to say, the relationship didn't last either.

So, it was with a little trepidation that I approached my friend's terrace for dinner. Those doubts evaporated the moment I smelt what was coming out of her kitchen. By the time my plate was set in front of me, I knew that this was going to be pure heaven. Rich and deep, the duck was neither gamey nor greasy. She served with a side of potatoes cooked in the duck's fat with garlic and apples. By the time we left, I had my own personal jar of duck fat and the name of a brand of confit to purchase in Paris.

Tonight, Kevin and my in-laws will be served their own portion of duck fat potatoes. What beeter way to get inspired for the French culinary adventures that await us next week.

Cobbler, Crisp, or Crumble

Today where I volunteer, I was eating the last of the peach cobbler. Soon I was present with a question: what's the difference between a cobbler, a crisp, and a crumble?

Though I tried to formulate an intelligent-sounding answer, at the moment I had no idea what the truth was.

Once home, I decided did some research. Of course, Google was my first stop, but in the end I turned to The Joy of Cooking. As one of my favorite go-to sources, I trust the book as the final word about traditional American cooking. The answer was found in a chapter entitled, "American Fruit Desserts."

In addition to cobblers and crisps, the authors discussed pandowdies, brown betties, crunches, slumps, grunts, and buckles. Though they have little to do with the post, I loved all of those names and really wanted to include them.

Here are the definitions that I've "cobbled" together:

• Cobbler: Deep dish, single layer fruit desserts. The fruit is most frequently cooked on the bottom, with a pastry or biscuit crust on top. No one knows for sure where the term cobbler comes from, but the authors of the Joy suggests that it is because the cook has to "cobble something together."
• Crisp: Sweetened fruit that is lightly thickened and cooked under a crumbly topping of flour, butter, and sugar. The topping can include oats, cookie, or cake, and is mixed together like pie dough, with the liquid being added at the end of the process.
• Crumble: Very similar to a crisp, but less rich, with lower amounts of butter and flour. Generally, crumbles are topped with streusel. Made from different proportions of butter, flour, and sugar streusel is also commonly found on coffee cakes and muffins. (Ironically enough, streusel is the German word for sprinkle.)
  

All this research made me discover one thing: I really make fruit crisps way more often then I make fruit cobblers! Who knew?

My New Favorite Kitchen Toy Is...

A big fridge!

Well, it's not big by American standards. The one I had in my tiny NYC apartment was still bigger. But, compared to the dorm-size one I've lived with for the past ten months, it's a monster.

To celebrate: Cold beverages. Next up? A bottle of ketchup. A condiment that never before rated the amount of space it required.

No Joke Artichoke

Years ago I tried cooking artichokes. It was a huge disaster. They were under — over — cooked, with tough outer leaves and an interior full of hairy choke. Discussing. Honestly, one of the worst things I've ever made.

How did the first people to eat them even guess that they might be editable? After that incident I avoided the intimidating food. The only artichokes to cross my kitchen's threshold were marinated and canned.

The problem is, Kevin LOVES the spiky veggies. He always points them out at the market, reminding me how much he likes them. Usually, I ignore his comments. Or try to distract him by point out how good the peaches look. But this week, I surprised even myself, asking for a bunch of baby artichokes along with my usual carrots and peas.

Once I got them home, I was determined to have a better experience then last time. To start, I cut off the point tips of the leaves. Picking off the outer leaves, I was overwhelmed by what was discarded before coming to something that I deemed as potentially food.

At this point I should have tossed them with lemon juice to keep them from oxidizing. But, being new to artichoking, I didn't know that yet. Next, I quartered them and removed the choke with a pairing knife.

To cook the artichokes lightly sautéed them with some olive oil, onions, and garlic. Then I added about a cup of chicken stock and let them braise for 20 minutes or so. To the braising liquid I also added a few left over chickpeas, some cherry tomatoes cut in half, and the leftover chicken from Sunday's bird.

When the artichokes looked soft, I thickened the liquid with some butter. This would make a wonderful pasta sauce, but since I was out of pasta, I poured everything over a plate of bugler.

It was an unexpectedly delicious meal: very light, but satisfying. Best of all, it made me want to cook artichokes again. I still didn't remove enough of the tough outer leaves, but it was certainly an improvement from my last attempt. The artichokes permeated the broth with a deep, earthy flavor and paired will with the chicken, chickpeas, and tomatoes.

Eggplant Parma-Lasagna

What do you do when you have an eggplant, leftover noodles, and half a containers of ricotta sitting in the fridge? You make eggplant parma-lasagna of course!

Okay, yesterday's creation is really more like eggplant parma-baked ziti — since I used bell-shaped pasta — but that name doesn't have quite the same ring to it.

I have to give my friend Michael partial credit for this dish. He recently told me about an order of eggplant Parmesan he ate in which the eggplant was cut into cubes rather then rounds before being breaded and fried.

This application was actually a huge time-saver. Instead of dunking each piece into the egg then coating with breadcrumbs, I simply poured the egg over the cut up eggplant. I then dropped all of those pieces into the bowl of breadcrumbs, tossed everything around, and dropped them into a pan to quickly sautéed the cubes in olive oil. Instead of flipping each one individually, I shook the pan around a few times, cooking each cube until it was golden brown all over.

For the first time every, assembling the eggplant was easy-peasy!

Making use of my leftovers, I mixed the cooked eggplant, precooked pasta, and ricotta with a tomato sauce that I quickly whipped up. Since I didn't have any mozzarella on hand, I used grated Gouda instead. The whole mess was dropped into a baking pan, covered it with foil, and baked it for 35 minutes at 375. Then I removed the foil and cooked for a few more minutes.

The results were fantastic. Next time I might even plan to make this dish!

(I'll post the official recipe later today!)

Soggy Salad

Well, despite my big plans yesterday morning, I didn't make Chinese food for dinner last night. I met a friend for lunch and she had a hankering for some lo mien. So, after fried noodles with chicken for lunch, I wasn't in the mood for more of the same flavors for dinner.

Last week on NPR's The Splendid Table, Lynne Rossetto Kasper talked about a salad that she made using stale bread. In it, you soak the bread in water. The idea is that the pre-moistened bread will then sop up your vinaigrette. I had heard about this use of stale bread before, and figure that it was high time I gave it a try for my self.

I didn't use the recipe posted on her Web site. This was probably a mistake. I thought it said that you soak the bread in 4 cups of water for 30 minutes. That seemed like too long to me. Instead I soaked the bread in water for five or so minutes, as suggested in a recipe for a similar salad on Epicurious. As it turns out, in the Ms. Kasper's recipe you actually only soak the bread in 1/2 cup water and some vinegar. In the bright light of morning, that sounds much better to me.

The problem I had was, once I drained the water, squeezed it out, I was still left with a gross-looking mess of wet bread cubes. Fighting the impulse to abandon the mission, and set about to make the rest of the salad.

I made a dressing by smashing two anchovy fillets into a paste. I then added some mustard, balsamic vinegar, salt, pepper, and olive oil. For the salad I cut up some tomatoes, cucumbers, and celery. So far, so good.

Then I added the soggy bread and that's where the salad lost me. It's true that the wet bread soaked up all of the flavor from the vinaigrette, which by the way was great. But, it still has the texture of, well, soggy bread. Not something that I enjoyed at all. I think I'll have to try this recipe again, but this time with the small amount of water suggested in the original recipe. Sometimes my improve works, but other times I should read carefully and follow instructions.

Taco Night

After all my recent blabbing on Uberall about Mexican food and the lack there of, I finally decided to make some tacos at home. Although I generally like to make everything from scratch, there is something about the pre-packaged envelope of taco seasoning that I just can't resist.

Though it's probably the MSG I love, these taco taste to me exactly like what hard-shelled tacos are meant to be. They remind me of taco nights growing up, when my Mom would fill the lazy Susan with diced tomatoes, chopped onions, and grated Cheddar cheese. Later in life I would organize taco nights for my friends. By then I was a little gourmet in my leanings, complimenting the Old El Paso taco meat with homemade guacamole and salsa.

Like smells, certain tastes can bring back so many memories.

Schnitzel Lessons

This weekend Kevin and I received one of the best invitations we've had thus far in Germany.

"Come over on Saturday night," our friends Albert and Tina said. "We want to teach you how to make authentic schnitzel."

Schnitzel is sliced veal, pork, or turkey that is pounded very thin, breaded, and fried. The famed "Weiner Schnitzel" is made of veal — and purists will argue that this is the best way to make it. But we’re not in Austria, so we also prepared pork at the schnitzel factory.*

Kevin was assigned to prepping the eggs and then coating the schnitzel. This came as a wonderful sight for me to behold. The only other cooking I've ever seen him do is assembling peanut butter, banana and honey sandwiches. Turns out, he did a great job and — dare I say it — a natural.

I was on potato-salad duty. This wonderful salad deserves a post all its own, which I’ll write tomorrow.

In the meantime, I wholeheartedly suggest frying up some schnitzel, cracking open a wheat beer, and enjoying a wonderful German supper.

* With the flour, egg, and breadcrumbs lined up and teamwork employed for an assembly-line process, our hosts lovingly call their kitchen "die Fabrik," which is "factory" in German.

What's Fast and Easy?

Last night Kevin had something to do shortly after work. This meant we were left to our own devices for dinner. I was fascinated when I saw what each one of us concocted as a "quick and simple dinner" out of what was in the house.

Kevin ate ham, sliced way too thick, on day-old baguette with Swiss cheese and mustard. This was then supplemented (I'm sure) with some tapas while he was out.

I started out think I'd have pasta with olive oil, Parmesan cheese, basil, and chives. Then I though, "Why not sauté and onion and a little garlic." And here's where things started to get more complicated.

Remembering a red pepper in the fridge, so I through that in as well. While rummaging for the pepper I came across the amazing bacon from a market in Belgium. I sliced off a piece, diced it up, and cooked it along with onions, garlic, and pepper. At this point, I realized that I had some great flavor developing on the bottom of the pan, so I deglazed it with sherry, and then threw in a few ladles of the pasta water, turned down the heat, and reduced the liquid while the pasta finished.

Tossing the cooked and drained noodles into the sauce, I still felt like something was missing. If there were any eggs in the house I would have made it into pasta carbonara. Instead I need to think of some other way to give the sauce a little more body. My final moment of inspiration came when I added the last bit of goat cheese from Wednesday's salad.

Without forgetting my original intent, I threw in the herbs and garnished everything with some Parmesan.

It was a fantastic bowl of pasta. It only took as long to prepare as it takes to boil water and cook some noodles. Yet, I realized that there is a huge range in what can be considered a fast and easy meal.