thinking about tomorrow
holiday times, fresh produce motivation, and filling winter meals
The holidays already seem like they happened so very long ago, probably because I still had to work, mostly— it always skews my sense of time when the stat holiday falls in the middle of the week. The days leading up to Christmas were hectic and busy, trying to cram last-minute errands and baking and wrapping in around a full work schedule for both Jeff and me. Of course I know I’ll enjoy time with my family even if I don’t get four batches of cookies made or whatever, but completing all the tasks comes with its own sense of satisfaction, and I did manage most of the important things.
Christmas Eve with Jeff’s family was a fairly relaxed event compared to the weekend event with his extended family, wherein we drove out to Tsawwassen to eat ridiculous amounts of raclette and chocolate with so many kids and adults that a third table was required to get everyone a seat at dinnertime (luckily with Swiss people, getting a hold of a third raclette set was not a problem). Anyway, we drove out to my parents’ place after dinner (and dessert, and tea) at Yvonne & Martin’s, and had a glass of wine before bed with everyone who was there already. My brother Riley told us such a funny story about his journey there from the ferry that I was nearly in tears. Alice and I also cried with laughter as we struggled to fit things into stockings. Something about being around my siblings all together like this releases some of my inner child, but in a way I appreciate as an adult, a way that doesn’t feel like a regression, the way some people describe the feeling of spending a lot of time with their families. I think it’s just something about being around people who truly know me, so I can feel unencumbered by the need to perform whatever version of myself fits the best in the situation.
We always put out too much food on Christmas, and breakfast is always so late, so instead of the usual charcuterie lunch plate we went for chips and crackers and dips with some accoutrements for people to pick at while we cooked. My mom did a lot of prep beforehand so the cooking was mostly just pulling prepared pans of things like potatoes and yams and stuffing out of the fridge in the garage and putting them in the oven at various times and trying to keep the dishes from piling up as we worked. I was responsible for the brussels sprouts, which I ran out of time to prepare the day before, but Jeff par-roasted them after breakfast when I had to go lie down in a quiet room for an hour, and I’d pre-made a sauce of miso honey mustard for them, so it all worked out. Everything was delicious, especially my mom’s crispy roast potatoes, which I believe is based on this recipe— there are never leftovers of these.
After the valiant task of cleaning up the kitchen and putting the extra table and chairs away, we all picked at plates of various treats while playing the new game for the year, Ransom Notes (judging from my various social circles, a lot of you also discovered this game over the holidays). A pot of turkey broth simmering on the stove and the sound of the dishwasher is always the backdrop for this part of the night— the part where we laugh ourselves silly and go to bed too late and too tired and too full. We came home Boxing Day afternoon with a bag full of leftovers and so many cookies I had to put some in the freezer, and I made turkey soup for dinner with a quart of the broth we’d strained and stored the night before.
New Year’s was a quieter affair this year. We went to a get-together at Eryn and Graham’s to hang out and play some board games, which we did, but at some point someone busted out a guitar and it turned into a jam! There was Phil Collins’ “In the Air Tonight” just before midnight, and Fleetwood Mac’s “Don’t Stop” just after midnight, which felt just about right.
As I predicted, signing up for a weekly produce bin has given me back a lot of motivation for cooking. It often feels like too much decision-making to know what I want before I go to the store, but also I hate throwing food away. So someone else sending a head of cauliflower and some potatoes and cucumber and whatever else in my direction forces me to figure out something to do with them all, and in the right order before I have to worry about anything turning into a shrivelled or slimy mess in the fridge. It’s a creative muscle I’ve been neglecting for awhile and I’m really glad to feel more in the swing of things lately, as well as just eating more fresh fruits and vegetables in general. Aside: if anyone has ideas for things to make with a bunch of lemon juice but no zest, I welcome them— I have three or four naked lemons in the fridge threatening to fossilize if I don’t use them up soon.
A few days after Christmas, when the idea of eating hearty soup or other rich and savoury leftovers again was no longer appealing, I made a quick and tasty noodle stir fry with bok choy, mushrooms, bell pepper, and green beans. The sauce was just thrown together with soy sauce, mirin, sesame oil & chili crisp, and a little spoon of peanut butter, but it was super good and I would definitely make it again.
With the rest of the bok choy, I made the sheet pan bibimbap from Korean American, which I’ve made in the past and really liked. There’s a version of the recipe here that makes use of whole eggs instead of egg yolks, but you can really use whatever vegetables and it’ll still be good— I had sweet potato, beets, and broccoli in addition to the bok choy. When the vegetables are done, you can either cook the eggs as in the linked recipe, or, as in the book, separate an egg yolk and add it to the bowl of rice and vegetables (and kimchi). I mixed the gochujang with a bit of soy sauce for serving because I’d undersalted the vegetables, and the whole thing was delicious. I forgot to take a photo of my bowl, which is heartbreaking because the structure of the yolk made it like a little sunshine with the rainbow of all the other food, absolutely perfect-looking until I stirred it all together, as one must.
We were sent a truly stupendous head of cauliflower, and I was thrilled to have an excuse to make this buffalo cauliflower dip again. I love buffalo wings but I don’t actually want to eat wings very often (or make them basically ever), and this is wonderfully reminiscent of the experience without just being a pound of meat covered in hot sauce. Considering the amount of dairy that goes into this dish, it’s not as heavy as you might think, and it’s straightforward and quick to make. I used lactose-free cream cheese, and as I’m not a big fan of blue cheese (Jeff is but his stomach is not), I crumbled some goat feta over the top in its place. Carrot sticks to complement the spice of the dip and cut the salt of the tortilla chips was the perfect choice.
In other ‘covering vegetables in cheese and calling it dinner’ news, I made a potato and brussels sprout gratin with the last slices of prosciutto my mom sent home with me after Christmas. I think this idea might have come from Six Seasons originally, but now it’s just morphed into something I make when I have a bunch of sprouts and too many potatoes.
Take a little under a pound of each, halve the sprouts and cut the potatoes into wedges, toss with oil and salt, then roast at 425°F for 15 minutes or so, until they’re browned and almost tender. Transfer to a baking dish and cover with a cup of milk or cream, and lay a few torn, thin slices of prosciutto unevenly on the top. You want little bits to stick up from beneath the cheese and get crispy. Grate some gruyère, cheddar, or pepper jack over the top and bake for another 15-20, until the potatoes are soft and the sauce is bubbling. If you want, add some breadcrumbs and broil for 1-2 minutes to brown. A side salad with something bitter is a good addition here, and the gratin is also delicious without prosciutto.
A few classics that made appearances recently: the buffalo dip only used half the head of cauliflower, so I revisited this cauliflower pasta with pecorino breadcrumbs. I had to make it with soy milk instead of cream, which isn’t as good, but it’s still fine, because the breadcrumbs are the main reason to eat it. With the other half of the brussels sprouts, I made the salad with roasted potatoes and brown butter dressing again. And I was surprised to see zucchini show up in the produce box in January, but not upset, since I got to make zucchini butter pasta (I add chopped kalamata olives as well). Typing all this out I realise I’ve been using a lot of butter! But who cares, it’s the middle of winter!
I have been, for the past year or so, feeding my sourdough starters just often enough so that they didn’t die, but I hadn’t actually used them in any way since before the move. And I’m ashamed to say that it had therefore been so long since I’d made a sourdough boule— something I used to do almost weekly— that when I finally decided to make one, I couldn’t remember my process exactly, nor the place I’d found the method I’d begun with initially. Luckily, going back through a couple of old newsletters turned up my first attempt, along with the original recipe, and that made me remember how I used to do it. It came out kind of deflated and not very boule-like, so I think some adjustments in the rising process for the new microclimate of my apartment will be necessary. Regardless, this evening (Thursday) I’ll be using it on top of some French onion soup I’ve got going in the instant pot. I also want to make sourdough cinnamon buns again, something my old newsletter reminded me of. I’ve been craving a cinnamon bun recently and I really think these are the best ones I’ve ever had.
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