eatwhatyoubelieve

Making turkey stock...

In the aftermath of Thanksgiving, I believe it is absolutely obligatory to create a thick, delicious broth with whatever leftover poultry and vegetables you have on hand, and to subsequently use that broth in the preparation of some tasty variety of turkey soup.  There is no choice in the matter.  It simply must be done.

I usually like to prepare the stock late on Thanksgiving evening, and to leave it simmering while I sleep, so that my broth will be ready the following morning, and I can consume a hot bowl of soup for lunch.  This year I opted for a classic combination of turkey, vegetables and barley (although I was very tempted by some of the zestier combinations Mark Bittman suggested in the NY Times).  My soup was fairly predictable, but still a deeply satisfying alternative to reheated mashed potatoes and cold gravy.  On that note, here is an approximation of the recipe I devised:

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 medium onion, chopped medium
salt & pepper to taste
4 large carrots, sliced thinly (sweet potatoes would also be a good choice)
4 stalks of celery, sliced somewhat less thinly
8ish cups of turkey broth
1 bay leaf
1 cup of barley
2 cups of shredded turkey meat
Parsley or cilatro, finely chopped for garnish (optional)

Heat the olive oil in a Dutch oven or other heavy pot over medium heat.  Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about one minute.  Add onion and cook until soft, about 5-7 minutes.  Season the onions and garlic with salt and pepper, to your liking. Add celery and carrots and cook until they are just getting soft, maybe another 8-10 minutes.  Add the broth, the bay leaf and the barley, and bring the whole concoction to a boil.  After the soup reaches a boiling point, reduce heat to a simmer.  After 30 minutes, add the turkey meat, and leave the soup simmering until the meat has warmed through. If you are using parsley or cilatro, add it to the soup moments before serving.  To round out your meal, serve your soup with slices of French bread, a crisp green salad with garlicky vinaigrette, and a cold bottle of a hoppy beer, like Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, or La Lagunitas IPA.  Enjoy!

Read Full Post »

I discovered a few bananas languishing in my fruit bowl this morning, and that seemed like a good excuse to prepare a loaf of banana bread for a late morning snack.  I typically use a recipe from my 1953 edition of the Joy of Cooking (I specify the edition, because I noticed in a brief Google search that the newer editions seems to have a somewhat different version), which I have basically committed to memory after many years of baking this particular treat.  Today, however, I was short on a number of key ingredients, so I had to improvise a bit.  For one, I only had whole wheat flour after my last baking experiment (see: Sweet Potato Cupcakes).  While I had certainly incorporated small quantities of whole wheat flour into the recipe before, I had never totally removed white flour from the equation, so I was unsure of what to expect.  I also discovered I only had two tablespoons of butter in my refrigerator, which meant the rest of the fat would have to come from either vegetable oil or olive oil.  I chose the latter because I happened to have a light, fruity olive oil on hand, but I am sure either would have been fine.  Lastly, I decided to substitute honey for a portion of the sugar because… why not?  With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I figured it might be wise to reduce my intake of processed sugar this weekend. Tragically, I had used up the last of my cousin’s delicious walnuts when I last baked granola, so I had to rely on store bought nuts, which proved to be far less flavorful.  Sigh.  Ultimately, the fruit of my labors turned out reasonably well, with a mellow, nutty flavor, and a pleasant, slightly crunchy texture.  It was definitely a far cry from the moist, cakey banana bread that Irma Rombauer originally dreamed up in the 1950s, but if she knew how obese our population has become, she might have cut back on the sugar and butter, too.  On that note, here is the recipe, with my alterations:

Anne’s Joyfully Wholesome Banana Bread

Blend until creamy:
2 tablespoons butter, at room temperature
1/4 cup olive oil
1/3 cup honey
1/3 cup sugar
3/4 teaspoon grated lemon rind

Beat in:
1 beaten egg

Sift together:
1 and 3/4 cup whole wheat flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
Pinch of salt

Mash 2 – 3 very ripe bananas to make:
1 – 1 and 1/2 cup banana pulp

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients in about three parts, alternating with the banana pulp.  Beat the batter gently after each addition until smooth.  Fold in 1/2 cup chopped walnuts, if desired, and pour batter into greased bread pan.  Bake in a 350 degree oven for about an hour.  Enjoy!

Read Full Post »

My 2006 masterpiece

Thanksgiving is still a week away, but I already have turkey, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie on the brain.  In truth, I pretty much always have food on the brain, but right now I am dreaming of all the delectable things I might consume next week on that day of indulgence.  I thought perhaps a good way to focus my foodie energy and create a manageable menu would be to devote a few blog posts to the dishes I anticipate with the most enthusiasm each Thanksgiving.

The obvious place to start is the turkey, since that element of Thanksgiving has really been non-negotiable for me since I became a born-again carnivore in 2005.  I love a good turkey, especially if it has been properly brined, seasoned and roasted, either in the oven or, even better, on the barbeque.  My dad is truly a master of cooking turkeys, and I have sought his advice each time I have prepared Thanksgiving dinner.  He first shared his magical recipe for brine (which is actually Alice Water’s magical recipe for brine) with me back in 2006, and that year my friends in Santa Fe were blown away by how flavorful, moist and delicious my oven-roasted turkey turned out to be.  We used the same brining and oven roasting technique in 2008, when my sister and I organized a Thanksgiving dinner for a group of girlfriends up in the Catskills, and once again the result was a beautiful, golden, delectable bird.  This year, though, I feel ready for a new challenge, and have been contemplating following in my dad’s footsteps, and cooking our turkey on the grill.

My boyfriend responded to this idea with great enthusiasm.  I cautioned him that my dad’s process seemed pretty involved and challenging, but he simply chuckled and informed me “this wasn’t his first time to the rodeo.”  Well, let me inform you, he was singing a somewhat different tune after reading the detailed instructions my dad sent us a few days ago.  So was I, for that matter.  My head was spinning after reading about my dad’s subtle manipulation of various chimneys, baskets, doors and vents.  Suddenly I recalled my only experience trying to BBQ a whole chicken (with a beer can inside, mind you) ended in near disaster, with the chicken still essentially raw after nearly an hour on the grill.  How would I fare with a turkey?  WHAT IF I RUINED THANKSGIVING???

I know this is not rocket science,  but I am wondering if I am up to the challenge.  I’ve had the pleasure of consuming so many delicious turkeys over the years, that I am not sure I could bear even a mediocre turkey this Thanksgiving.  Maybe I should just stick to what I know?  I’ll share my dad’s instructions for cooking a turkey on the grill in my next post, and you, the reader, can decide if I am up for the challenge.

Read Full Post »

My neighborhood is really so close to perfect that I hesitate to level even a minor complaint.  Fort Greene has beautiful parks, amazing architecture, great bars and restaurants, fabulous arts and culture, an excellent independent bookstore, a farmer’s market and a CSA, tennis courts and bike lanes in abundance, hip coffee shops galore… the list goes on. My problem with Fort Greene is, it lacks one really comprehensive place to shop for groceries, and I find myself making multiple stops almost every time I want to cook something even vaguely elaborate. While that would be romantic and lovely if I were a Parisian housewife, leisurely visiting my favorite boulangerie, boucherie and fromagerie, somehow it’s less romantic when I am scavenging for food after work, and when one of the stops is in my journey is Pathmark.

Let me describe the situation as I see it. There is a lovely little organic store, the Green Grape, which I visit at least twice a week to purchase their delicious olives, locally produced cheeses, an occasional lamp chop and various salad fixings. Shopping at the Greene Grape is such a pleasant experience, but there are some items I simply cannot bring myself to purchase there, including $5 pints of half and half and $7 boxes of cereal. I know these products are local, organic and of the highest quality, but personally I can’t justify the expense.  There’s a pleasant little grocery store run by a Korean family just down the block, which is marginally cheaper than the Greene Grape for some staple items, and has a nice selection of fruits and veggies, but it does not sell any kind of meat or fish.  There is, of course, an excellent farmer’s market that takes place every Saturday. If I were a better planner, I would always purchase my produce, yogurt, bread and meat at the farmer’s market, but truthfully I can rarely anticipate my food needs more than one day in advance. It’s pathetic, I know. Finally, there is the dreaded Pathmark. It’s a safe option for basics like cereal, baking supplies and canned goods, provided you can stomach the endless lines and overwhelming chaos you will inevitably confront if you shop there. Pathmark’s produce tends to be hit or miss, but their meat counter, on the other hand, is a dark, terrifying place I would prefer to never visit. If I ever encountered, say, in a dark alleyway, one of the chickens that supply the terrifyingly giant chicken breasts sold at Pathmark, I would run screaming in the other direction. Really, I would.

For a brief moment I thought Fresh Direct might be the solution to my grocery conundrum. Their prices are decent for New York and there is an undeniable appeal to paying someone $5 to schlep groceries in my stead. That said, the insane quantity of packaging that arrives with every Fresh Direct order and, once again, the problem of having to plan more than 24 hours in advance have cooled my feelings for online grocery shopping. Right now my hopes are pinned on the new Co-op that is opening in Clinton Hill in December.  Fingers crossed…

Read Full Post »