just a fool getting by
cookie misadventures and actually good casseroles
This past weekend, I made 5 litres of vegetable stock which necessitated me cleaning and reorganizing the freezer. I’ve been trying to work in some kind of relevant joke about the stock market short situation but the truth is that as a hot person who has never had any money I legally am not allowed to fully understand it, so I couldn’t make it work. But anything that makes hedge fund guys lose their money and get mad is ok in my books. I have never invested in anything, unless you count a lot of yarn, spices, and LPs. I prefer the more traditional forms of gambling: buying scratch & wins at the lotto centre in Lonsdale Quay, pretending I don’t know how to play blackjack so men at the table give me tips and praise me when I win, and using food with questionable expiration dates.
Often it’s just me in the kitchen, but if we’re both around to cook, Jeff usually takes on the sous chef role. There are a few things in our repertoire where this is reversed, though, which makes for a nice change, and on Sunday I convinced Jeff to make butter chicken, the recipe for which has been in his oeuvre since before we ever got together. It came from a lead line cook at the White Spot he used to work at, an Indian woman known to most of the staff as “Mama”, whom I hope is now happily retired. I’m not sure what it is about Jeff that makes people want to give him things, including their cherished cooking secrets, but this isn’t the first time a casual comment by him has resulted in the acquisition of a five-star recipe (ask him to make you a whiskey sour sometime).
I prefer chicken thighs for most things, but this is one occasion where it’s nice to use breast meat: since it’s marinated in yogurt and tandoori spices and coated in sauce, it becomes super tender. The sauce recipe uses heavy cream, but we used coconut milk and it came out almost the same, and means Jeff doesn’t have to have his dinner with a side of 3 lactaid pills. We’ve also tried the marinade with brown mushrooms or tofu for a vegetarian version, which works because really, the important part is the sauce: rich and well-spiced creamy tomato magic. The perfect serving partner is garlic naan, in which we approximate a tandoor by cooking the breads directly on the oven rack at its highest temperature for 1-2 minutes per side (I keep meaning to try the pizza stone for this, but it’s only big enough to cook 2 at once). Basmati cooked with ghee, saffron, and cumin seeds is a pretty great second choice, or of course, whynotboth.gif
The words “tuna casserole” generally invoke, at best, trepidation, and at worst, abject horror. I recall making something atrocious when I was 18 living in Nebraska involving Kraft Dinner, tuna, and tomatoes, and I thought my then-partner was humouring me when he said it was good. Looking back though I think this may qualify as hotdish and it’s just how midwesterners eat, so maybe it was genuine? Anyway, it is a testament to my trust in Melissa Clark that I tried her white bean and tuna bake a month or two ago, and ended up liking it enough to return to it willingly. The reviews in the comments were incredibly mixed, so I read a bunch to make an informed decision about how to make it suit my tastes.
The two things that came up the most from people who didn’t care for it was that they found it bland, or dry. So I doubled the herbs and liquid (I used vegetable broth and a dash of white wine vinegar), added capers, and baked for a shorter time at a higher temperature (12 min at 425°, 1 min on broil). I only mashed a little bit of the beans to release the starch, because it’s nicer for the texture to have more whole ones. Gruyere was excellent here, as was oil-packed tuna so you can use the oil it’s packed in instead of having to drain it. We ate this with toast which made it a bit like a tuna melt, so skipped the potato chip topping, but do not skip any of the other ingredients! The lemon zest adds brightness, the rosemary sprig adds depth, and the anchovy adds salt. I can’t speak to how the recipe is as written, but this was absolutely delicious, not to mention filling.
With casseroles, the thing that usually holds me back is how hard it is to know before making it whether it’ll be a delicious, comforting mess, or a textural nightmare food. So as much as I love and appreciate Deb Perelman, I admit was slightly apprehensive about making this mushrooms and greens dish. But I had mushrooms and kale that needed to be cooked, so it was happening. I used both garlic and shallot, added a splash of milk at the end for creaminess, and chose provolone for the cheese topping. I also melted the cheese under the broiler instead of by putting the lid on the pan on the stovetop, because melting is not enough— I need those browned cheese bits. I was worried the broiler over-toasted the croutons, but it was actually perfect, because they soften up easily with the moisture from the vegetables and the cheese. This turned out to be much better than expected: springy browned mushrooms with crisp toasted sourdough, stretchy, melty cheese, and just enough spice from the bird’s eye chile to keep it out of the realm of tasting… British.
I attempted to make Claire Saffitz’s famed pecan brittle oat cookies, which seem like possibly the most delicious cookies of all time. Unfortunately I broke the caramel, thought I fixed it, but once I poured it all onto the silpat it was clear I didn’t let all the water evaporate (literally how do you tell)… and then I didn’t have any pecans left so I couldn’t even start over. The caramel didn’t solidify, so it was less of a brittle and more of a thick pecan syrup. Because Claire’s recipe relies on being able to grind some of the nut brittle in the food processor, instead I just made regular degular oatmeal cookies (using the bare bones of this recipe, less sugar and no add-ins), folding the caramelized pecan goop in at the end. They were really quite good, but they also carried the taste of failure. I’ll try the recipe again after my next trip to Bulk Barn.
Media:
I have the radio on in the warehouse at work, and the other day they invited listeners to call in with what aspects of pandemic life they thought might carry over, or change, in the “new normal” post-vax world. One caller noted how happy she was about servers and kitchen staff wearing mask, and hoped it would continue. The hosts dodged it a bit and talked about how they hoped the level of hand-washing we’ve all adopted would keep up, but the caller persisted, saying, “don’t you think cooks in the kitchen should keep wearing masks, though?” The hosts were silent for a beat and then one said, “I think they have enough to deal with already, what with the heat back there and the long hours.” (I wonder if they were considering how many restaurant kitchens were currently playing their station?)
In related “people who should no longer be allowed to eat in restaurants” news, my sister linked me to this hate-read opinion piece by the editor of the Georgia Straight recently, about what restaurants suffering during the pandemic could do to make potential diners feel safer. It starts off fairly reasonable— I agree contact tracing is important so sign-in sheets are good— but goes very rapidly off the deep end, making it pretty clear that this guy was probably a nightmare restaurant guest even before the pandemic. Under no circumstances should you EVER go to the kitchen to ask for water! If you don’t want your server to make conversation with you because you’re concerned about them infecting you with the coronavirus, eat at home! I personally know I wouldn’t feel comfortable in a restaurant, and I don’t want to judge restaurant employees who are simply doing their best with ever-changing guidelines and restrictions, so I get takeout.
This is one time when you actually should read the comments, because nearly every single one is a service worker (or just a generally decent person) tearing him a new one for acting like it’s his god-given right to eat in a restaurant and expecting the employees, who are risking their lives every day, to basically be robot servants who just put food and drinks on the table. My favourite:
“Most that go out to dine are looking for a semblance of normalcy and yes of course comfort, which for many means not feeling that the server wants to kick them out as soon as they take their last bite. Also don’t ever get up to ask for water from the kitchen […] Patiently wait for your server to come around, if they are taking a while, it’s probably because she is venting in the back about her shitty table with the pretentious man that keeps watching her when she sanitizes tables.”
The best part is that the author is so out of touch that he read all of these comments, and then posted on his twitter to clarify that he did not steal the hand sanitizer. Yeah bud, that’s definitely the thing people were most upset about.
Thanks for reading— if you enjoyed this newsletter, please share it with someone new! I like providing this to you for free, but it does still involve time and effort, so donations I can use towards cookbooks or future treats are much appreciated. And now, here’s just one more universal human trait.
Jeff, make me a whisky sour please!! <3