cooking breakfast pasta with the second lieutenant

if you've already read today's books blog post, then you'll know i'm waiting for my building maintenance to come around to fix stuff and be all maintenance-y. (that's a technical term there.)

while i'm waiting, i've inserted my intravenous coffee drip and am seeing what work i can get done that isn't too involved. (though, if maintenance doesn't hurry up, i'm going to have to say screw it and go back to researching the dutch south african spice trade.)

so, anyway, i've been going through all my files, straightening up and what not, lo and behold, i found something. 

something i should have posted a long time ago. 

something that is totally going to make kb's day.

you see, before i moved to boston for grad school, kb and i got together one night and made dinner. 

it was an "or whatever" breakfast pasta dinner. 

nothing special.

just our regular ridiculous food and anthropology humor, wine, and general nonsense. 

hijinks.

well, those hijinks include a pictoral recipe, featuring the cactus garden's unofficial mascot chef: the second lieutenant. 

i know, i know.

i'm a horrible person and all that for not sharing this with all of you sooner. 

apologies and here, at long last, is the infamous breakfast pasta:

normally breakfast pasta is just pasta with a simple tomato sauce and a fried egg. 

when we made this that night, though, we decided to sauté up some onion and peppers to go with.

it was a bold and daring move. 

also, if you can't tell from those photos, kb doesn't have butter. 

she has some weird solid vegetable oil.

yeah, i don't get it, either.

pasta water.

i don't know why i'm bothering to explain these photos, actually.

pasta is pasta.

it doesn't need instructions.

we're all just looking at the pictures to see the second lieutenant, anyway.

there you go. 

pasta sauce cooking.

whatever.

here's where things got ridiculous, though. 

remember kb's makin' bacon salt and pepper shakers?

yeah, so this awkwardness happened:

don't ask. 

it was late.

we were tired and hungry.

and we were sad that i was leaving.

whatever.

i guess the cactus garden might have just lost it's pg rating.

maybe? maybe not

eh, it's whatever.

anyway, back to the food.

this was a very "chicken and the egg" moment.

c'est finis. 

p.s. here's a behind the scenes look at the photoshoot:

some people use cranes or stepladders or boxes to get their actors in the frame.

we use tape and popsicle sticks. 

or whatever bruschetta

seriously seriously, this post has gone through a lot of draft version names. 

names like: "in the cactus garden kitchen."

or: "eh, who needs measurements?"

even: "not m.f.k.f. monday."

the truth is, my cooking/kitchen style is really "or whatever."

don't have an ingredient? whatever.

that pie crust didn't turn out the way you inspected? whatever.

feel like measuring out all of your spices in your hand instead of using measuring spoons? whatever.

it's all fine by me.

cooking in the cactus garden kitchen often uses large doses of "or whatever," which isn't a bad thing. 

it can actually be pretty exciting. and tasty.

so, with that in mind, let's "or whatever" something up. 

yesterday kb's older sister, kb the elder, had an open house/birthday party and we totally or-whatevered-up some bruschetta.

for our or whatever bruschetta, we generally use:

a whole container of grape tomatoes

a lot basil

too much fresh garlic (in a pinch you can use powdered)

some glugs of olive oil

a few splashes of balsamic vinegar (clear or dark or whatever is fine)

to taste sea salt 

slice up the tomatoes however you like slicing them.

we diced ours into fourths here.

slice your basil.

if you roll your basil up before you slice it, you can get nice, even cut.

that slicing technique is called a chiffonade. (did i spell that correctly? eh, whatever.)

anyway, yeah. chiffonade the basil.

if you get bored easily, like me, you can always just mash slice (that's a technical term) the basil up.*

get your garlic out and pick out too many cloves to mince.

if you're having problems getting the peel off of the garlic, you can always smash the clove with the flat of your chef's knife or the bottom of a cup to get it out.

toss the tomatoes, garlic, and basil together in a bowl and your olive oil, vinegar, and salt.

stir it all together, taste, and admire your awesome handiwork. 

serve with something.

like bread.

or toss with chicken and pasta. 

or add to a sandwich. 

or whatever. 

*the second lieutenant, the cactus garden's sous chef, was not harmed during the making of this recipe.

see? proof:

m.f.k.f. monday, eggs and a quesadilla experiment

do you know what makes a good evening?

a glass of wine.

and sister time.

and experimental recipe evenings.

sometimes sister evenings are more important than trying out m.f.k. fisher recipes.

yes.

i said that.

my younger sister and i aren't too big on cheese.

but we like the idea of quesadillas.

so clearly, it was time to come up with cheese-free quesadillas.

i know, i know.

that's sacrilege to some of you out there.

i'm sorry.

if you tell me what foods you don't like, i'll make something without that ingredient for you.

th, we put tomatoes in these, but that was totally optional. you can still make cheese-less, tomato-less quesadillas.

now we can all sleep at night.

ms. m.f.k. fisher had some wonderful things to say about eggs.

i think "how not to boil an egg" was my favorite chapter in how to cook a wolf.

in the beginning of the chapter, she says:

in spite of the complete impersonality of its shell, however, some things about about an egg can be guessed. people who know how can decide several surprising facts about it by holding it before a strong light, and even a zany will tell you that if it is none too fresh it will stand up and perhaps bob a little in a bowl of water.

the best thing to do with aged eggs is not to buy them, since they are fit for nothing, and a poor economy. if you find yourself the owner of a few, change your merchant with no more ado (fisher 229).

by the way, some of our pictures came out blurry.

we were having way too much fun.

i still like them.

think of them as "action shots."

i do.

and they are.

a biochemist once told me that every minute an egg is cooked makes it take three hours longer to digest. the thought of a stomach pumping and grinding and laboring for some nine hours over an average three-minute egg is a wearisome one, if true, and makes memories of picnics and their accompanying deviled eggs seem actively haunting (fisher 230-231).

that last quote always amused me.

if i wasn't so content right now, i would go see if that random fact still holds true.

there's a good chance it doesn't.

the first copyright in my anthology, the art of eating, is 1937.

times and knowledge have changed.

maybe i'll check later.

or you can.

after all, who wants to do work when you're eating something as lovely as this?

sometimes ideas turn out well.

and that's a good thing.

m.f.k.f. monday, mock duck

i'm an idiot.

i totally forgot to type up the m.f.k. fisher writing clip for this post.

instead you just get photos.

no recipe, but recipes aren't really that important, right?

mock duck turned out to be stuffing wrapped in flank steak.

it wasn't very pretty, but it was quite tasty.

 making the stuffing.

stuffing the flank steak.

tying the stuffing into the flank steak.

browning the flank steak.

ready to go into the oven.

and done.

happy monday!

the tragedy of the tabasco cinnamon sugar cookies. or whatever.

 

this is not the blog post i want it to be.

it’s a bit of a disappointment, really. there are so many things i want to talk to you all about — genetically modified apples, the genderfication of food, how freaking awesome the book cheap meats is — but all those things are not this post.

it’s december first. i should be posting my kick-ass beer post for you.

but i’m not.

i did make it through three months of no beer.

and i did have a celebratory beer this evening.

see? proof.

but that beer post going to have to wait until this weekend or whenever i can get to it.

some things came up from my past recently and things have been difficult.

not juggling-too-many-commitments difficult. not oh-my-god-its-the-holidays-and-i’m-not-prepared difficult. (i’m not, but whatever. oh, and happy hannukah!)

it’s more like i-want-to-crawl-in-my-bed-and-stay-there-forever difficult.

there’s not much you can do about that kind of difficult.

if you’re lucky you get a late morning hidden under the sheets, but most of us have Things That Must Be Done, So Help Us.

and all you can really do in those situations is just keep plugging away, despite how low or vague you might be.

that’s where i am.

and that’s where this post is.

we’re thinking.

we’re coping.

we’re keeping our heads down.

and, mercy me, we’re baking.

let’s give that a moment to settle in.

i’m baking.

that’s a whole bunch of nonsense right there.

i’m not a baker. baking is not my thing.

i’m a throw-random-stuff-in-a-pot-and-see-what-we-get kind of girl.

i’m pretty sure we’ve covered the fact that i’m not a big fan of sweets.

and if you check the time on this post, you’ll notice this is a pretty dumb time to be baking.

yeah, it’s for work.

there’s a cookie swap.

and i’m on the celebrations committee. let’s not even get started on that one. i don’t even know how to begin to explain.

that’s about all of the explanation i can give.

it still doesn’t make sense to me, either.

what also doesn’t make sense is how i've ended up with 156 cookies tonight.

that’s just ridiculous.

anyway, as i’ve said before i’m not a recipe person, here’s my recipe for tabasco cinnamon sugar cookies. i’ve also updated last m.f.k.f. monday’s post to include the recipe, as per lp’s request.

cookie dough, always a winner... 

tabasco cinnamon sugar cookies

(this is for just one batch — about three dozen — not my double batch that somehow got out of control.)

topping

3 tbsp. white sugar

1 tbsp. ground cinnamon

cookies

2.5 cups all-purpose flour

.5 tsp. baking soda

.25 tsp. salt

1 cup dark brown sugar, packed

.5 cup white sugar

1 cup salted butter, softened

2 large eggs

2 tsp. vanilla extract

tabasco to taste (usually around 1 tbsp. or so)

preheat oven to 300° f.

in a small bowl combine the topping and set aside.

in a medium bowl combine flour, soda, and salt. mix with whisk and set aside.

in a large bowl blend sugars with an electric mixer set at medium speed.

add the butter and mix to form a grainy paste.

scrape sides of bowl, then add egg and vanilla extract.

mix at medium speed until light and fluffy.

add tabasco and mix. (make sure you do this step here — i forgot tonight and adding it later was obnoxious and difficult. also, make sure you actually taste the cookie dough as you add the sauce to taste. you want it to have just a bit more of a kick than you think because the flour is going to quiet the flavor down. the idea is to get the flavor of the tabasco, not make an inedible cookie.)

add the flour mixture and blend at low speed until just combined. do not over-mix.

shape into one-inch dough balls ad roll each ball in the cinnamon-sugar topping.

place onto ungreased cookie sheets, two inches apart.

bake for 18-20 minutes. (i find 19 does just fine.)

immediately transfer cookie with a spatula to a cool, flat surface.

bonus: to really get a feel for how i read recipes, add at the end of each sentence “or whatever.”

though, that might be why my kitchen island is covered in cookies right now.



and that's it.

i got cinnamon on my phone trying to take pictures of cookies while i was still baking.

i suggest getting someone else to do the baking. or take the photos. whatever floats your boat.

on that note, i hope your own worlds haven't been too difficult recently. night.