Raising Prairie Chickens

The subject tonight is focused on unusual food combinations. You will notice I did not say "weird" or "strange" or even "yukky" because we know one man's animal guts are another man's menudo.

A quick dip into Google territory yielded commentary on lots of interesting culinary marriages. Apparently it is not unusual to dip french fries into ice cream or milk shakes. I'm trying to imagine that but, really, around here, either ranch dressing or tartar sauce is the dip of choice.

One fellow swore a combination of vodka and raw eggs is not only a guaranteed health boost, it has anti-cold and flu properties. He didn't mention proportions or details such as mixing and presentation but I'm reminded of a particular concoction that enjoyed a certain popularity for awhile in a bar where I worked. It was called a Prairie Chicken. You pour a shot of whiskey in a rocks glass and crack a raw egg into it. It looked like a big yellow eye staring out at you. The drinker would toss it back and gulp it down in one swell foop, then pretend he already felt like he could whup his weight in wild cats. It was a macho thang, you understand. We went through a lot of eggs indulging the testosterone crowd.

One gal mentioned mixing orange marmalade with barbecue sauce for putting on scrambled eggs or dipping chicken strips. I'm going to try that for a glaze on something or other. One gets a similar effect by buying the sweet chili sauce sold in the ethnic section of the grocery store. Good on any meat, either for glaze or dipping.

Actually, this country is just beginning to discover what other cultures have known forever -- sweet and savory or sweet and hot go very well together. Throw some pitted and chopped cherries or plums in a pork stew and you'll know nirvana. Chunks of apple in chili is sublime, as is chunky applesauce mixed with spicy barbecue sauce. And all those old Aztecs and Mayans and Incans knew chili peppers and chocolate were fare for the gods.

Mage, you mentioned peas, cheese and pickle salad. More details, please. What kind of cheese? Pickles? Dressing? My friend, Eddi, has a superb salad she makes with peas, grated carrots, peanuts and Miracle Whip. She stresses the latter because it has more tang than the mayo. And there's a wonderful salad I learned from the Japanese community. You use cooked Pearl rice (it's short grain and holds its shape without being sticky) mixed with plenty of green peas and tossed with a combination of vinegar, sugar and water. Play with the proportions until you get a pleasing sweet-sour flavor.

Producing the Kinsey Milhone sandwich (peanut butter and pickles) on yesterday's Oatmeal bread worked out so well I've had three of 'em. That is my new favorite, as opposed to my old favorite -- a sandwich made with peanut butter spread on buttered toast, then stacked with cooked bacon and sliced tomatoes. Peanut butter, I find, goes with an amazing number of different foods. I once impulsively mixed some in with mashed potatoes and, to everyone's surprise (including mine), it was right tasty. And I'm thinking about now, the next time I bake a sweet potato, I'm going to mash it flat with a fork and slather on the butter and salt and pepper as I always do -- then I'm going to plop a big glob of peanut butter down on it. Yeah. That sounds bodacious.

Might even serve it with a Prairie Chicken.

That was a yoke, people. A yoke.

Viva La Bonnie!

The entry I had almost finished for tonight -- the one where we were going to discuss unusual food combos -- that's going to have to wait until tomorrow. That's because the most magical thing has just come to my attention.

Last night I mentioned a book called Kafka's Soup. Tonight I discover that awesome Texas personage we know as Miz Bee, or Bonnie, has up and ordered it for me and it's supposed to arrive Friday! Bonnie, you are so special, dear heart. You bring a good tear to my eye. Thank you.

I will, of course, tell all y'all all about it (boy, that's a LOT of alls) when it gets here. By the way, John Baker? I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is, one of the writers Mark Crick highlights is Virginia Woolf. The bad news is, the recipe he has her describing is not the one for Cottage bread. No. It's something called Clafoutis Grandmere.

On the subject of bread, although I fired up my trusty bread machine again today, I didn't do the Cottage bread either. I'm sure I will at some point down the road but today I was sidetracked by something that sounded so good, I just couldn't resist it. It's called Sweet Oatmeal Bread and this am the way it goes ...

Into the bread machine, toss 1 3/4 cups water, 1/4 cup molasses and 1 tablespoon olive oil. Then add 1 cup rolled oats, 2 tablespoons sugar, 2 teaspoons salt and 4 cups flour. Top it off with 1 tablespoon yeast and run it through the dough cycle. When that's all done, divide the dough into two pans and let rise again. Bake at 400 degrees for 25 minutes.

It is baking as we speak. I just wandered into the kitchen for a refill on coffee and it smells heavenly. If nothing horrid happens, I'll take a picture to go with this entry to entice you to fire up your own bread machine, even if it's the deli department at the grocery store.

Later: As you can see, not only is the bread done, the small loaf has already been plundered. The top is a bit too brown. That's my fault. Had the bread on a higher shelf in the oven than it should have been. And it looks a bit darker than it actually is because of my habit of brushing the crust with olive oil to keep it nice and soft. The flavor is great -- not too sweet at all. Just a hint. And the texture is light and fluffy.

I think it will, when cool, make a lovely Kinsey Milhone (peanut butter and pickle sandwich). I can report on that tomorrow, when we finally get to that discussion of unusual food combinations. In the meantime, viva la bread!

Whatever Happens To Be Handy Stew

I've had such a lot of fun since rediscovering my electric wok. You know how it is. You get a super-duper, handy-dandy appliance that does everything but diaper the baby and you put it carefully away on a shelf or in a cupboard -- and forget you've got it. Out of sight is truly out of mind with kitchen appliances.

That's pretty much what had happened with the wok. Until I decided to pull it out for something a month or so ago. I'd forgotten how fast it did its job and how easy it was to control the heat. Haven't used a frying pan since. Nor have I put the wok back in the cupboard. Nope. It sits its purty red self right out there on the counter ALL the time.

Another thing that sits on the counter (because it comes with a convenient storage unit) is my V-Slicer mandolin. Slices, dices and juliennes quick like a bunny. I'm constantly trying to figure out new ways to use it because it's just fun. If I'm putting 'taters in a soup or stew, the thick julienne cut is perfect. Carrots come out just right on the thin cut. They not only cook faster, they look elegant.

The Dynamite Duo came in to play this evening when I decided to make one of those Whatever Happens To Be Handy stews. One of my favorite easy and quick meals and limited only by ingredients on hand. Which means, of course, your stew will likely contain different ingredients. No matter. Whatever happens to be handy.

First I took the kitchen shears and snipped a small boneless chicken thigh into bite-sized pieces and started them browning in a dab of olive oil. Then I thick-julienned one medium, unpeeled potato and threw that in. A quick browse through the freezer yielded a package of frozen mixed veggies, the Scandinavian mix with broad beans and zucchini slices and carrots and I don't know what all. Shook a bit of that into the sizzling mix and tossed it all together, along with seasoning. Turned the heat down, put on the lid, and read a couple of short stories in a science fiction book.

When I checked the doneness of the potatoes (just right), I added two cups of chicken broth and brought it to a boil. Then I added some cornstarch for thickening and said, "Shazzam! This is some kind of righteous chow." Dished up a bowl, sprinkled it with some crumbled Feta cheese and knew all was right with the world, at least for a little while. Comfort food. And it's even healthy!

Just haven't had the nerve to add chocolate to it.

Almost forgot my usual apology to John Wagner, the brilliant cartoonist who does the Maxine character so very well. The above is one of those captionless cartoons that seem to wander the Internet and emerge now and then with a new caption. Just want to emphasize that when I use my Maxine alter ego, the words I put in her mouth should never be blamed on Mr. Wagner.

One Potato, Two Potato ...

Well, you know, not ALL grand culinary experiments turn out. I embarked on one such adventure today and have decidedly mixed feelings about the outcome. It seemed simple enough: baked potato chips. The advantage would be control over the amount of fat and seasoning -- a healthier 'tater chip, with a wider choice of flavoring additives.

I'm fortunate in having that dandy V-Slicer mandolin to get ultra-skinny, uniform potato slices. Two small potatoes were transformed into a pile of tidy medallions almost before I could blink.

Then I dumped the slices in a bowl and dribbled, oh, maybe a teaspoon of olive oil over them, plus sprinkled on some chili powder and paprika, then tossed the slices until they were all nicely coated. Next step was to place them in a single layer on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper, then into a preheated 425 degree oven for 20 to 25 minutes.

While they were baking, I was mulling over the range of seasoning possibilities for future bake-offs if this one worked out. Some things would be added before baking, like rosemary or dill or various powders and peppers or veggie seasonings like the Mrs. Dash combos. Some things you can sprinkle on when they come out of the oven and are still hot, like freshly grated asiago or pecorino or sharp cheddar.

I pulled the pan out after 22 minutes because I noticed the smaller end pieces had gone past brown to cinder. The remaining, larger slices ranged from the perfectly done crispy disk to those that were crisp around the outside and soft-centered. This tells me one would have to keep an eye on the baking process and keep removing individual chips as they reached their peak.

Such a bother for a relatively small amount of chips. Not that they weren't good. Both the crisp ones and the semi-crisp were quite delicious. (I forgot to mention I lightly sprinkled them with coarse kosher salt when I removed them from the oven.) But, frankly, I had to wonder if it was worth the fuss.

I did read one site online that swears THE way to go for homemade chips is to do them just as I described above -- but run them for 7 minutes on high in the microwave. Mmmm, well, maybe. I'm not at all sure I'm that fond of potato chips, if you want to know the truth. Even if the microwave version cooks more evenly, you would be faced with a much smaller batch so you'd have to keep at it until you had the intended amount all done.

Adding to the frustration, I didn't even like the way the photos of the 'tater chips came out. That's why I illustrated this entry with a shot of the Christmas cactus that is bursting forth with its second wave of blooms in about a three-month span. Curiously, this return engagement is sporting blossoms of a deeper hue than the first go round.

All things considered, I guess that works out okay. The 'tater chips provided food for my body and the blossoms provide food for my soul. God, as usual, seems to have the best recipe.

Classics

When something retains its appeal over time, we call it a classic. It's probably safe to say, therefore, that chicken soup, in all its variations, easily earns that label.

How far back does chicken soup go? Well, the recent discovery of surprisingly well-preserved cave paintings in Lower Mongolia show prehistoric hunters taking down a pterodactyl with hurled stones and spears and then throwing a tailgate party in front of a cave, with the doomed bird simmering in a mastodon skull kettle.

Okay. I made that up. I also made up a modern version in as simple a manner as possible today and I'm happy to share it with you.

It all started with my habit of buying the family packs of boneless chicken breasts and boneless thighs. When I get them home, I portion them out into freezer Ziploc bags, one or two pieces per bag, depending on size. As it happened, I did the thighs two-to-a-bag and had one left over. Well, I said to myself. That's just about right for some chicken noodle soup.

And it was. I set approximately 6 cups of water to boil (who measures?) and tossed in a bunch of broken up fettucini noodles. While these were cooking, I took the kitchen shears and snipped away at the thigh until I had a nice pile of bite-sized chicken bits. (When chicken is fresh or thawed, you can cut it easier and neater with scissors than with a knife.) Splished a bit of olive oil in the electric wok set at 350 degrees, tossed the chicken into that, sprinkled it with Montreal chicken seasoning, and quickly stir fried it to just done.

Back to the noodle pot -- added six teaspoons of Wyler's chicken bullion granules, a hearty clump of Mrs. Dash Original seasoning, a generous spoonful of dried minced onion, and the stir fried chicken. Just for the fun of it, I also added about a cup of frozen mixed vegetables. Then I turned the heat down to simmer, put the lid on the pot and went about my bidness.

Don't really know how long I let it simmer. Half an hour? An hour? Hard to say. In any case, when I came back, I flipped it back up to a boil and stirred in some corn starch to thicken it just a bit. Shazaam! Chicken Noodle soup, in all its classic glory, perfect for a winter afternoon meal.

I'm not really sure what fortuitous steps led me to another classic but, while digesting my first bowl of soup, I discovered one of my all time favorite fun movies is (hurrah!) on DVD. This gem falls under the heading of Unsung Classic. Have you ever heard of "The Villain" with Kirk Douglas, Ann Margaret, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Paul Lynde, Strother Martin and Jack Elam? Oh! Let's not forget a horse named Whiskey because he was the real star of the show.

How to describe this movie? It's totally camp, totally silly and totally addictive. Think Grade B Western meets Wile E. Coyote and Roadrunner and picture Douglas in the Coyote role. Think highly respected actors getting paid for goofing off and having more fun than ought to be legal. Watch Schwarzenegger in the pre-Terminator (this was 1979) role of Handsome Stranger and think, "Ohmigawd, this man is the governor of California! That explains a lot."

For the fun of it, I was reading the reviews of the movie at Amazon. It was amusing to compare comments between the folks who "got it" and those who didn't have a clue. Somewhere in the middle of all that, I read a review that made me blink with bemused shock. The reviewer, who liked the movie, felt compelled to explain to contemporaries that Kirk Douglas was the father of Michael.

Holy Generation Gap, Batman! It's hard to get one's mind around the fact that the actors one grew up with aren't even a blip on the radar screen of the youngsters running around. Nor is it any easier to understand how those same actors can possibly be so blatantly showing their age now, when one still sees the younger version in the mind's eye. It's difficult to reconcile that inner vision with current photos, the difference is so vast.

The human body, it seems, does not weather the ages quite as gracefully as chicken soup. It's more like the crumbling ruins of the Parthenon. But we're classic, by golly, and don't you young whippersnappers forget it!

HAPPY UPDATE! Just wanted to mention, Eddi came home from the hospital yesterday and is continuing to heal in comfort. Thank you, again, for all the wonderful mojo.

Rice Is Nice

Can't think why it is but sometimes I simply forget how versatile rice can be. Boiled, steamed, fried or baked. Plain, savory or sweet. It will pretty much do whatever you want it to and doesn't complain, either.

Like today. There I was, hungry for something different and in no mood to spend too much time in preparation, when my wandering gaze fell on the cannister of jasmine rice. Now, one cup of uncooked jasmine will plump out to about three cups of fluffy goodness when dumped into boiling water and simmered for about 20 minutes. Then, what can be done with the finished rice is limited only by what one can scrounge from shelf and imagination.

So, when the rice had cooked and was fluffed and set aside, I dumped a can of diced spicy tomatoes into the electric wok, set at 350 degrees. Shook in some dried minced onion and a sprinkle of cayenne pepper. Shredded about a cup of cheddar cheese. When some of the juice had cooked off the 'maters, I added all the rice and mixed everything up good. Then the cheese was added and quickly stirred in as it melted into everything.

Shazaam! Just like that, a one-dish meal that was fast, easy, tasty and satisfying. Actually, for me it's more like three meals. I've already finished two of them. The final one will probably be my midnight snack. Or maybe even brunch tomorrow. During which I can contemplate how I'm going to fix a generous portion of the brown Basmati rice that's in another cannister in the pantry.

Were I one to do needlepoint (which I emphatically am not), I could whip out one of those frameable aphorisms with something like: Concise Advice -- Rice Will Suffice.

Good thing I don't do needlepoint, huh?

Comfort Food

Got lazy this afternoon and let the bread machine do ALL the work. That means the baking, too. Which means (insert sigh) there is a hole in the bottom of the loaf from the kneading paddle, I got one big loaf instead of two small loaves and, durn it, the size and shape is awkward.

Reading that last paragraph back makes me think I'd bitch if they hung me with a brand new rope. Sorry, Coffee Mates. Truly, all of the above whining doesn't change the fact that this is a very tasty loaf of bread. Here am the way it goes:

Cheesy-Onion Bread

In a sauce pan, heat 3/4 cup milk and 1/4 cup butter until the butter is melted. Cool a bit and pour into bread machine pan. Add 2 eggs, beaten, 2 cups shredded cheese (whatever kind you want), 1/2 cup minced onion, 1 teaspoon honey and 1 teaspoon salt. Toss in 2 1/2 cups flour and 1 package yeast. Set machine for a 2 pound loaf, regular, and let 'er all hang out. For the record, I used medium cheddar cheese. I think there is just the right amount of onion flavor in the finished loaf. Very nice.

It's a good thing I rate freshly baked bread as a comfort food because, after today's playoff games, I needed some comfort. For the weekend, I had picked Baltimore, New Orleans, Chicago and San Diego. New Orleans and Chicago came through for me. I don't mind the Colts winning but it flat broke my heart when the Chargers lost by a lousy field goal. Dayum!

I was hoping to see San Diego go all the way but now I'll have to fall back on Plan B. Therefore, let it be known far and wide, I'm rooting for New Orleans. Love those Saints.

To end on a high note, the news on Eddi is good and Larry sounds much better today. She's not out of the woods, by any means, but her temperature is back to normal and other signs are improving. Now, if we can just keep that upward trend going ...

Mojo, mojo, mojo ...

Football Bread

That isn't what it's really called but, given that it's made with beer and given that I made it while the football games were on, the title seemed appropriate.

Actually, it's just called "Beer & Cheese bread" and it's ridiculously simple to make. As usual, I put it through the bread machine on the dough cycle, then baked it in the oven at 375 degrees for 30 minutes. It came out as a lovely golden loaf and I'm quite pleased with it.

First you heat 10 ounces of beer, 8 ounces of cubed or shredded cheese and 1 tablespoon butter. The cheese doesn't have to be melted and you don't want the beer so hot it kills the yeast. I let it heat until the cheese was soft and the butter was almost melted, figuring the flour dumped on top of it would have it cool enough by the time the yeast was mixed in.

Pour that mixture in your bread machine pan and add 3 cups flour, 1 tablespoon sugar, 1 1/2 teaspoons salt and 1 package yeast.

That's all there is to it. I was also going to toss in one finely minced jalapeno but forgot. Oh well. Next time. Also, the flavor would be even better with sharp cheddar but I just had the regular. I would imagine you could use just about any cheese you wanted to.

By the way, have you noticed the search function up above, on the left-hand side? Very handy. You can use it to track down this recipe at a later date, should you feel like it.

I was astonished to discover I'd actually aced the football picks this weekend, although Dallas gave me a nail-biting moment before they finally blew their chances. Next week, the Divisional playoffs will not be nearly as easy to pick. Maybe I'd better make some more of this ol' football bread. Could be I've stumbled onto a lucky charm sort of thang, you think?

Okay. Right. I agree. Making the bread will not cause my picks to be gold. But, by golly, the bread will be gold and could even soak up tears of anguish, if necessary. Which may well BE necessary if I remember the minced jalapeno.