Gluten free

If you eat paleo or primally, at least. For those of you not on one of those bandwagons, you may find some amusing items nonetheless ...

For those of you wondering what I mean, it’s this resolution, begun later than intended. Tomorrow is the six–week marker, so I indulged my curiosity this morning and checked some stats.

I have been too much a post–and–run Snake these days; and for that I apologize. It will get worse—or this place will fall entirely silent, mayhaps—before it gets better; but before those days descend, I would like to share some joy—a recipe for a celebratory frugal indulgence. Don’t believe me? Step into my kitchen and behold!

Or, as it was formerly titled when Mama Liberty ran this at Sierra Times several years ago, The Great Tortilla–Making Caper. It is republished here at her request. It’s been lightly modified from that version.

Just when you thought life could not POSSIBLY get any better... I just came from the grocery store wherein there was on display, for my and other potential consumer's consideration........ a Lindt Gourmet CHILI infused chocolate bar. Say WHAT??? Yes. You read that right, Chocolate AND Chili in one convenient package. Damn but it was good.

I claim no responsibility for what anyone may do with this information.

- NonE

After last year’s garden bust, one might think I’d be wary of trying again. Not so—it was a very important learning experience for me, and I think that even if we had the same sucky, erratic weather, I’d do better this year.

With the pewter skies of winter starting to lighten here at last, and the days lengthening pretty dramatically (if one pays attention, that is), gardenlust has risen in my blood, just like sap in the sugar maples. It isn’t helping that several people are posting their garden progress. Alas, my circumstances are too unsettled at present for me to embark on a full-scale garden this year. But my gardenlust must be sated. And I have found a way to sate it! Best of all, it’ll start producing in very short order.

I was introduced to a lot of foods and food tricks while at college ... reconstituted dried eggs (although I’m not sure that really counts as food), the use of ketchup to disguise scrambled eggs made from reconstituted eggs, veal, and several others that escape me at the moment—probably because they were deservedly forgettable. Not so the granola. I’m not sure what their source was, but it was excellent granola: crisp, with a hint of sweetness, and a good ratio of raisins and nuts to the oat base.

Since then, I have looked high and low for good granola; and in the process, I’ve sometimes paid quite dearly for it too. It was our very own Polka who first encouraged my thoughts of making my own—and who, in the process, reminded me that in some parts of the world the stuff goes under the term muesli. After collecting several recipes and experimenting with a few, I really don’t see myself buying the mass-produced product ever again—especially since, as Wendy McElroy points out, it’s easy to dehydrate one’s own produce. Using dried fruit is a boon in another way—the cook can experiment with varying combinations that simply aren’t possible with fruits that ripen at differing times in the season. It isn’t a good candidate for long-term storage [thanks, SRS and Mama, for correcting me on this!], but it’s so easy and good that it’s worth doing.

Now that I’ve typed that title, I guess there isn’t much else that’s edible that starts “squ” ... but I’m being specific because I want to reserve “S” for something else. (You may have noticed this pattern in action already. A nice way to expand the alphabet, no?) Although I greatly enjoy summer squashes, my focus today is on the amazing variety of winter squashes available these days. If all you’ve had is canned pumpkin, well, I feel for you ... you really haven’t had pumpkin.

As far back as I can remember, I have adored the flavor of squashes. My mom and I were the only ones who liked acorn squash, so she’d buy one, bake it, and we’d each enjoy half. Other squashes weren’t readily available back then. We lived close enough to the annual Circleville Pumpkin Show to make that an occasional family trip; I enjoyed it a lot, despite the plentiful wasps and bees trying to get some last food set by for winter. That festival was probably my first inkling that more things can be done with pumpkin—and related squashes—than just pumpkin pie. And it is very gratifying to see more pumpkins used as food, instead of just Halloween decorations. Some pumpkins, usually referred to as “sugar pumpkins”, have been bred specifically for eating; these tend to be too small for carving. I’ve cooked larger ones sold for carving—not knowing any better—and just like any other nonprocessed food, have found a good deal of variability in the flavor and texture. So far they’ve all been perfectly usable, especially since I have a trick that hasn’t failed me yet. (I haven’t tried the tiny decorative pumpkins, nor the giants that have been bred solely to be immense.)

Watermelon is wonderful. The combination of juicy yet crunchy flesh has appealed to me for as long as I can recall—and I never outgrew the fun of seed–spitting contests. But how does one cook with watermelon? Well, let’s go into the kitchen to check it out.

When I think of bigos I immediately feel like I'm about to open presents. See, for me it's the ultimate Christmas dish and one of the perfect comfort dishes. It is a meal ideal for entertaining guests and a good topic for a conversation about Poland, its culture and history. It is so because it's a dish similar to Russian and German dishes and very often when I introduce someone to it they say "But this is so German!" or something of a similar effect. Yes, I perfectly understand why anyone would think so- bigos is mostly sauerkraut and meat so you can't get any more German than that.

Longer ago than I care to admit, a dear friend asked me about making pie crust. And since today is that person’s birthday, I figured evidence that I hadn’t forgotten that request might make a suitable birthday gift.

When done well, pie crust is a deep brown, delectable testament to the near-miraculous effect of heat on a few simple ingredients. Tender and flaky, it serves as a perfect embrace for fresh fruits, pudding, or whatever tasty filling a cook can devise. Pie crust can also be intimidating as hell to make, because the quality of those simple ingredients really matters. So does the cook’s handling of them. I am by no means an expert pie baker, but I am adequate and if I had regular practice, I’m confident I could become an expert one. So could you; and here are my tips and an excellent recipe for starting down that path. Let’s head into the kitchen!

A while back I went on and on about turkey. Having recently roasted another big bird, I have a few observations on the process, along with another food bonus for those willing to wander back in to the kitchen with me.

A while back I read an enthusiastic endorsement of a new cheesecake cookbook on a foodie site; being a cheesecake lover, I clicked through to Amazon to check it out. The cookbook is apparently based on a successful restaurant’s New York-style cheesecake recipes. But a few things in an editorial review turned me off of the book, and of their cheesecakes. My primary objection is the use of corn starch in the cheesecake. Now, I know that restaurants need to be as concerned with food appearance as much as taste, but as something of a cheesecake snob, I do not like extra binders in my cheesecake. The cheese and eggs should be sufficient—no flour, gelatin, or corn starch should be necessary to get a smooth cheesecake. They can add off flavors and textures to the cake. I’ve never had a problem with cracks in my cheesecakes, and I’ve never gone to the lengths described to accomplish a picture-perfect cheesecake—I don’t use extra binders, I don’t use a water bath, and I bake the cheesecakes at typical (325–350° F) temperatures.

All that said, making a pretty and delectable cheesecake is one of the trickier propositions I’ve encountered. Still, all that’s required is some extra care in preparing the batter and baking the cake. For starters, one must plan ahead: cheesecakes taste best after mellowing about 24 hours after they’re baked. Follow me into the kitchen if you’re interested in the secrets of homemade cheesecake success.

Longer ago than I wish to consider, I promised Ian I’d post my roast turkey recipe. His procedure involves brining the turkey, which I must admit, I’ve never tried. It seems like a complicated and potentially messy way to try to avoid what is the bane of all cooks—a dry turkey. (Trust me on that: in my house, with that much water, sugar, and salt involved, plus two young children who would almost certainly be “helping” at some point in the process, spillage is a given.)

I first came across the basic procedure I have modified to suit my needs several years ago, when I needed a fast way to roast a turkey. I modified it when I needed to create a gluten-free turkey gravy procedure ... and true to form, I am still tweaking the recipe, but am very pleased with it overall. It doesn’t guarantee a moist turkey—no recipe can, because if a turkey is overcooked, it will be dry—but I have never had a properly-roasted turkey come out dry using this recipe.

Before those of us who want to continue head off into the kitchen, I would like to wish a wonderful Thanksgiving to “my seven readers”, as well as others who wander in via some search. I appreciate your interest in my ramblings, and I especially value the stimulating feedback and ideas many of you share with me. Here’s to the internet! [clink!]

And now, off to the recipes ... plus a bonus for those of you with the fortitude to read to the end.

My guess is pretty much any decent cook can take a chicken carcass or some beef bones and make a decent stock from it. I regularly save roasted chicken remains and freeze them until I have enough to make a big batch of chicken stock. It’s thrifty, easy, and much tastier and more healthful than bouillon cubes and powders and the like (although I will admit to using a couple of Penzeys soup bases in a pinch). But what about vegetable stock? Turns out it is every bit as easy to make—and for the investment of ingredients and time, it’s an even better payoff than homemade meat stocks. Best of all, homemade stock won’t have unknown quantities of mystery or undesirable ingredients like modified food starch or MSG. This stuff is liquid gold when it comes to adding a nice flavor boost to rice, polenta, and pasta sauces. And of course, it makes a splendid base for building other sauces, or gravies, soups, and stews.