Stewed Lentils and Tomatoes

I decided to hop aboard Tina’s Cookbook Challenge.  Every week, from now until the end of the year, I will make one recipe from a different cookbook. 

The challenge couldn’t come at a better time.   Yesterday, as I was browsing my shelves, I noticed that I have not just one, but two Barefoot Contessa Back to Basics.  Doh!  I can’t even remember when I bought the first or 2nd duplicate but I know that this is a big sign that I need to take a closer look at what I have (or that I need glasses, because I neglected to mention that they were shelved only, oh, 4 books apart). 

Anyway, yesterday was rainy, grey, and cold and today is windy and cold, so when I came across Ina Garten’s recipe for Stewed Lentils and Tomatoes from  Barefoot Contessa at Home I knew I found my recipe for the week.  This recipe looked perfectly stew-y and hearty with lots of leftovers to spare (for another rainy, grey, and cold day). 

What I love about Ina Garten’s recipes is that they are all pretty straightforward and don’t require a lot of fussy steps or ingredients.  That way, my kitchen only looks like half a hurricane hit it when I am done. 

One pet peeve of mine about her recipes, though, is that she always calls for extra large eggs.  Maybe I live under a rock, but does anyone actually buy extra large eggs?  I always end up using large eggs and always worry the whole time that the recipe won’t turn out right.   And it always turns out right and most times even gloriously yummy.  And it is apparent to me that I worry too much.

And this recipe doesn’t even call for eggs, so I think I’m oversharing. Awwwwkward.

Ummm, so let’s talk about my cooking companions:

Murphy, my perfect child.  I snapped this one just before he darted away from me.  He hates the camera.  Thus the pout.

Max, my puppy.  He’s actually 11 months old, so I think the title is wearing thin on him. 

Maggie, my middle child and diva.  See?  She’s too important to even look at the camera.

Moving right along, the long and short of this recipe is sauteed carrots and onions, garlic, lentils, broth, canned tomatoes, curry, and thyme get simmered down into a lovely thick stew thang and a bit of vinegar is stirred in at the end.  The recipe called for red wine vinegar but I opted for balsamic to lend a little more depth.

On a scale of 1-10, I give this recipe 6 Yums.  Both the veggies and lentils get really tender but still hold their shape.  The curry and thyme in this recipe don’t really stand out but add a little tingle on the tongue.  This will be great served over rice and maybe topped with hummus, but I would definitely get sick of eating just a bowl of this.  I’ll make this one again (that is, if I ever run out – the recipe makes a ginormous amount) .

Random Quirk:  I  have to remove all my dust jackets from my cookbooks.  I don’t care how pretty or interesting the jacket is, it drives me crazy.  I know they are only going to get gunked with flour and other random kitchen counter debris, so I promptly trash them.  What about everyone else?  Dust Jackets:  to keep or to toss?

Kaddo Bourani, aka Roasted Pumpkin Perfection

I’m kicking myself for those times in the middle of the summer that I whined about how hot it was and that I was SO looking forward to fall.  While my husband was out chasing the last days of mild, golfing weather this September, I was unpacking wool sweaters wondering when the temperatures would just start to take a dip already.  When the leaves began changing and mornings were a little cooler than usual, I rejoiced and dug out my favorite soup recipes.  I made Chili!  I made Lentil soup!  The kitchen was redolent with the scents of baked apples and spices. 

And then the mornings started getting frosty, and I was donning a winter coat just to stumble across the lawn and walk the puppy for his first tinkle of the day.  Before I knew it, I broke out the gloves and I was wandering around the house with my shoulders permanently hunched towards my ears, kvetching about the chill and checking the thermostat for the 10th time that day. 

It’s not even the middle of November.  It’s going to be a long winter.

With the colder days, I have been on a winter squash kick.  Sitting attentively on my counter this morning were a Spaghetti, Kuri, Sugar Pumpkin, and Turban Squash (this after the Butternut I had cooked earlier in the week).

(I’m still on the lookout for the famed Kabocha squash that has been so popular in the blogosphere.  I’m going to the Farmer’s Market this weekend and hoping I find one there.  Winter squash Gods, do you hear me?  Can you make it happen?  Like, pretty please??)

Anywho, I’m looking at the squashes (is that even the correct term for multiple squash?) and those babies are looking at me, batting their pretty little eyes and tossing their hair, hoping they get the next rose.  In that moment, I remembered one the most glorious foods to ever cross my lips:  Kaddo Bourani.  I get this every time I go this amazing Afghan restaurant in Baltimore called The Helmand.  It’s the most sublimely caramelized,  roasted pumpkin topped with a pungent, tangy, but still gorgeously creamy yogurt sauce.  My husband isn’t a pumpkin fan (the horror, OY, the horror), which means that I get to snarf this down all by myself.  Each time I lick the last bits off my fork, I think to myself that I really need to find the recipe for it (and perhaps adopt better table manners, but such is life). 

So, here I am lookin’ at the pumpkin, the pumpkin is lookin’ at me and bing, bam, boom. You can figure out how the rest of this story goes. 

After a brief search around the internet, I found the recipe pretty easily (which really kinda makes me feel like a doofus for not having made this, oh, a whole heck of a lot sooner).  Since I didn’t make this one up, I have linked to it and I will tell you the changes I made:

--I only had 1 pumpkin, so I halved the amount of sugar and oil

--I’ve been having issues with dairy lately, so I used coconut milk yogurt, instead.  I drained it for a few hours to thicken it.

--I have heartburn issues with garlic (you’re probably laughing at this point because, heck, I just have issues), so I used garlic powder instead of the real stuff

--I didn’t have dried mint, so I just left it out

--I didn’t make the meat sauce because I haven’t eaten land animals since September 2nd (after watching Earthlings, but we can talk about that later)

Even with the substitutions, the result delivered nothing short of moaning, groaning and hasty marriage proposals (my husband won’t mind if I cheat on him with a pumpkin, will he?)  (you know, after writing that, I realized how thoroughly inappropriate I am.) 

I don’t have issues, I have subscriptions. 

On that note, I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Yum.  Mo.

Notice the little caramelized edges.  I die.

 

Did I say “Yum” yet?  I did?  Okay, well just get in ma belly.  Now.

Despoiler of Reason

I’d like to talk about two things today.  Perfect evil:

And perfect squash:

All I will say about the Justin’s Chocolate Hazelnut Butter is, “Hello, Handsome, why haven’t we met earlier?”  I had a dream about you the other night, and I’m a little embarrassed to talk about it.  Nutella, schmutella. 

Now the squash is lovely too, but perhaps a little less carnal.  (What a relief.  A girl can only swoon so much before she stops being taken seriously).  The idea for this squash came to me after making a roasted carrots recipe from Cooks Illustrated.  (Have I told y’all how much I love Cooks Illustrated?  No?  Okay, I love them.  Like, a lot.)  The squash is not as much about the right ingredients but rather about an ingenious cooking method.  The perfect cooking method.

(PERFECT) ROASTED WINTER SQUASH

1 smallish Butternut squash (I’m sure other varieties like Kabocha, pumpkin, etc. will work well, too)

2 T. Olive Oil

1/4 t. dried thyme

salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.

Peel, deseed, and cube the squash into 1 inch chunks.  Toss the squash with olive oil and thyme (I like to do this in a large ziploc bag for one less dish to clean).  Arrange coated squash in a single layer on a sheet pan and cover tightly with foil. 

Place pan of squash in the oven on the middle rack and roast, covered, for 15 minutes.  After 15 minutes, remove the foil and continue roasting for approximately 25 minutes, stirring the cubes a few times, until golden.

The resulting squash will be  tender on the inside and sticky, gooey at the edges with just the slightest bit of crunch at the corners.  Like I said, perfect.

The Dog Ate My Homework

So, I'm sitting here right now, trying to form a cohesive thought and theme for this blog post but getting endlessly distracted by a barking Max. Max is the puppy, or should I say ManPuppy. He'll be 10 months old in a few weeks, so he's a puppy but not really. But, then again, ManPuppy sounds like some sort of strange monster creature thing, so perhaps I should scrap that?

Yeah, I think I just proved my point about the barking distraction. So, anyway, Max is barking. More like yipping because he is a Sheltie (and a ManPuppy). I go find him to see what I can do to appease this little beast and I find the source of his distress: the sunlight streaming through the shades is casting an admittedly odd shadow on the couch. Oh, Maxie, if couches and sunlight offend you, you'll have a hard time getting through this life. But then again, he doesn't have to worry about that because I willingly spoil and enable all 3 of my dogs. As a matter-of-fact, I have joked before that I'd love to carry Max around in a Baby Sling. But, if no one thought it weird, I'd probably do it.

And here are the things that we know about me so far:

1. I cook, sometimes occasionally (ha, how is that for inane!) and sometimes a lot.
2. I am a crazy dog lady. Thank you, thank you very much.

Is anything else really important? Probably, but the ManPuppy keeps barking and my brain has officially shut down. Instead, I'll leave you with a video I randomly shot yesterday. The house was being pelted with torrential downpours but we were all safe, warm, and cozy at home (and making a hot mess of that home, if I may add).

And Like a Bad Penny (or Herpes). . . .

I'm back. This time it's only been 6 months. Maybe I'll be able to shorten these gaps down to every few days soon enough, and we could really become BFFs, huh? I've still been out there in the bloggie world, just back on the sidelines as an anonymous spectator. I've had divine inspiration strike me a few times and I have almost written a post, but then decided to watch Real Housewives of Anyplace instead.

Can I just say, without going into too much detail, that things have been stressful? Oh, vagueness, thou beauty is fine. (Did I really just write that? Am I trying to quote scripture or Shakespeare or the crazy bum at the gas station?) Instead of making a pretty list of recent suckage, why don't I put it all out there in a video I found on You Tube? Whoever this "Mrsalesguy01" is, he is blastedly brilliant.

Meet the Fuzzies

Given that I am prone to talking about my dogs incessantly, I thought I would take the next couple posts to introduce you to my 3 furbabies. I will start with Max, our puppy. Not because he is so cute I want to snorgle his tummy all day but because he is currently sitting in my lap, farting with reckless abandon.

Anywho, Max is going to be 16 weeks on Sunday and he is a Sheltie. He is the second Sheltie in the household, which means that I have no concept of peace and quiet. In several months, I am sure that I will also have no concept of clean carpeting. But, look at this face. He really is as sweet as he looks. Probably even sweeter. I am so in love with him.Max's quirks (so far): He chirps when he runs down the steps chasing Maggie, our other Sheltie. At first I thought he was crying because she was running too fast and he couldn't keep up but, nope, he just just likes to chirp.

Oh, but he is a little ninny, drama queen: Last weekend at the dog park, a 2 pound Yorkie snarled at him and he ran away crying. He was 10 yards away, looking at the Yorkie and all the 2 pounds of rage that she was, still crying. That's my boy!

I work from a home office and spoil the living crap out of Mr. Maxie by giving him daily nap times in my lap. He also helps me with my filing. I tell him where to put the paperwork, but he makes his own executive decisions and proceeds to chew up the paperwork. Who am I to question his judgement?

After he finishes making a mockery of the office floor, he comes back for more lap time. He enjoys chewing on my desk. And I let him. Because it is less messy than paper bits.
Jaw workouts can be pretty intense, though. He finds the need to squeeze in more nap-in-the-lap time most afternoons after completing his desk chews. He usually stretches to find a comfortable position. Sometimes paws end up in the strangest of places.

I stick my nose in these little popcorn-paws at least 8 times a day. Don't you wish you could snorgle these little paws, too?

(Don't I wish I could crop out the raging mess in the background?)

Is Veganism the New OCD?

So, I was chatty-chatting with a pretty well-known and respected psycotherapist in town the other day. (Never mind the how and why of the story. I have to keep some skeletons in my closet to keep the dusty jackets company. All we need to know is that the person was a therapist. A person who is supposedly well-educated and, oh, I guess fair-minded, maybe?)

Anywho, talking to the therapist (is it just me or does anyone have a hard time saying the word therapist without thinking of Sean Connery). Somehow the subject of veganism comes up and she mentions that so-and-so professional journal or group is talking about revising the heading of OCD related diseases to include veganism because it so closely mimics an eating disorder and those fall under OCD. Asphictersayswhat??

I played dumb and tilted my head like my pups do when they hear the ice-cream truck and was all like, "What do you mean?"

And she was all, "They're so rigid in their dietary restrictions. . .blah blah blah. . .and how can they actually go out to eat? . .blah and blah and gosh, they won't even eat honey because they feel bad for the bees. . . ."

The look on my face must have been similar to the look I would have if I was trying to figure out how I got dog poop in between the car seat and the center console. I nodded my head slowly and said, "I think a lot of folks go vegan out of moral reasons, too. And some folks just have a lot of good allergies and find it the best path." Jeez, I am so polite and sweet when I want to be.

She backed off a bit like most people do when they realize they may have just said something stunningly idiotic and came back with "Oh, I think vegetarians are fine. I couldn't do it, I just love steak too much, but vegans just aren't normal." And she even, get this and hold on to your granny panties, shuddered.

Rrrrrrright. So. I'm not a vegan. I'm not a vegetarian. I do eat meat and I do enjoy it.

I am, however, so saddened about the deplorable conditions in which many animals are raised for slaughter in the United States. I do my best to find grass-fed, free range meats, chicken, eggs, etc. I even try to throw in a vegetarian if not vegan meal once a day just because I feel like I am doing my part to cut back animal consumption.

But, for fuck's sake, who in their right mind is going to label veganism as a disfunction? Really? No, I mean REALLY?

Okay, I just don't have much more to say on this without getting all serious and soapbox-y. I just wanted to rant because I'm a jewish woman and that is just. what. we. do.

There certainly are some backwards people in this world and they do live beyond the swamplands of Georgia (No offense, of course, to people who live in Georgia or near swamps in Georgia. I am sure your cousin plays a lovely banjo).

That is all.