Madison&Mayberry

Blue Cheese in Salad -- Problem Solved

I love blue cheese. I vaguely remember a time when I wouldn't go near the stuff, but when I developed a taste for blue cheese, I fell hard. Now -- it's the stronger, the better. However, there's always a complication when adding blue cheese to a salad. One bite may deliver several crumbles of blue cheese while the next yields nothing.

Problem solved, thanks to Michael Chiarello and a microplane. (Note: If you don't have a microplane and you cook on a regular basis, stop everything and order one now. I use mine almost daily on everything from zesting lemons to grating ginger.)

First, put a chunk of blue cheese in the freezer so gets rock hard. I started with a pretty sturdy blue cheese to begin with. Leave it there overnight, minimum.

In a bowl,  combine your salad ingredients and dress it. Then, simply use your microplane to grate the blue cheese over the salad.  It falls on the salad in soft, snowy flakes.

Now, every bite of your salad tastes of blue cheese. But it's unusual in that it's a lighter, softer blue cheese taste, opposed to the explosion you're used to. It's unusual and nice new way to add the cheese to your salad.

The Only Good Reason to Own a Car in Queens

And that's to go visit the new Trader Joe's (90-30 Metropolitan Ave.) in Forest Hills. It makes dealing with the alternate parking almost worth it. I'm not sure how you'd get there with public transportation but it only took maybe 25/30 minutes driving from Astoria. I don't even attempt to step into the Manhattan Trader Joe's because the check-out line always looks like an insanely long wait.

And such a friendly staff to greet you -- from the Trader Joe's employee recommending the pumpkin butter to the cashier asking what we thought of certain items. Maybe they're so nice because they've just opened? Or are people in Queens just more friendly? I went Friday morning and it was just barely starting to bustle. And look at how much we got.

Cereal, soy crisps and granola, oh my. The three-layer hummus (with plain, cilantro hummus and red pepper hummus) is already a fast favorite. We also got sunflower seed butter since I'm not such a fan of peanut butter (I know, I know. It's just un-American to despise peanut butter). And lobster ravioli. Of course, everything was at a stellar price.

There's also the pumpkin butter, which I read rave reviews about on chowhound and yet have no idea of what to really do with the stuff. I may try a spoonful in my yogurt in the morning.

Ryan got "Green Plant" juice that looks awful. Just seeing it in the fridge makes me cringe. But I managed to take a sip despite its dark green hue and thickness and it's really not so bad. It tastes very similar to those V-8 fruit juice/veggie juice blends.

I'm already starting my list for the next Trader Joe's visit. It'll help me get through the next few rounds of alternate parking.

Tempted by... Liver??

Here's for my mom who said, "Please write something so I'm not always pulling up the tomatoes." Sorry! But I'm cranky. Everyone's on vacation -- except me -- or at least it feels like that. I don't feel like battling the heat to cook most nights. Plus, with Ryan in Peru -- it's not as much fun without someone to cook for. I've been existing on Ruth Reichl's Spaghetti Carbonara. And no recipes have really pulled me in to break this mood.

That was until I was reading Anne's copy of "Julie & Julia," chronicling the adventures of New Yorker Julie Powell's attempts to cook all Julia Child's recipes in "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." Of everything she cooked, I found myself seduced by her description of beef liver. Yes, liver. Just listen to this description: "It is one of the great oddnesses of life that I have come so to love liver.  I love, love, love it.  It's like the silky soul of steak.  You have to close your eyes, let the meat melt on your tongue, into your corpuscles."

How can you not be tempted by that? My mom would always force liver and onions on me as a child. But this recipe was liver topped with a shallot-mustard spread and breadcrumbs. And it was endorsed by both Julie and Julia.

I tried the recipe and -- unfortunately -- I still don't like liver. I barely ate any of it. And, let me tell you, rarely do I not clear my plate. I just kept thinking, "I'm eating the liver of a cow." Now, mind you, I have no problem polishing down a steak or sweetbreads or even chicken livers, for that matter. Why is it that I find beef liver so troubling?

Maybe because it looks like what it is. And even under a mustard and breadcrumb crust, it still..looks..like..a..cow.. liver.. I remember reading that a majority of times when people don't like certain foods, it's because they don't like the texture, as opposed to the taste. And I think I may also have issues with that slightly mushy, chewy texture.

Alright. Enough ranting about the liver. Let's move onto the spinach. Another recipe from the book that sounded 1) simple and 2) good was a description of washed and blanched spinach that is then mixed with swiss cheese, dolloped with cream, topped with breadcrumbs and cooked in the oven until bubbly and browned. It was good, yes, but lacked a little something..maybe cayenne? Just in need of a little pep. At least it looks more appetizing that the liver, right?

So the spinach wasn't bad at all; the liver wasn't for me. And the combination of them both was on the heavy-side. I can't imagine eating Julia Child recipes for almost a year as in the Julie/ Julia Project. Anyone else had any recipes you thought you'd adore, only to be dismally disappointed at the results?

Truffle Honey Butter

This may look like an ordinary blob of butter but no.. This is my own hand-churned buttery creation. Okay, well not completely -- unless, hand-churned now means "throwing in the Kitchen Aid mixer and mixing past the point of whipped cream."  It was so easy to do that it made me wonder why I hadn't done it before.

This also gave me an excuse to indulge in my longing for honey butter. I grew up near a chain restaurant named Ryan's Family Steakhouse, complete with a Southern style buffet table full of all the fixins. But this wasn't the best part -- Ryan's had these yeast rolls served with the best honey butter. Oh, I could eat the honey butter alone. It made me wonder why more restaurants didn't succumb to the sweet goodness of honey butter. Since then, I've always been on the lookout for it but rarely found it.

Which is why I decided to make my own, loosely following Luisa's directions. My cream was drawing close to the "use by" date, so I poured that into the mixing bowl (about 3/4 cup), along with a tablespoon of truffle honey that I had saved for a special yet-to-be-determined occasion. I let the mixer do its job until the butter was clumpy but still mixed with pools of the newly formed buttermilk (the milk solids removed from the cream). I removed the butter from the buttermilk and then slathered my creation on some homemade bread.

Yes, yes.. I could have bought butter from the store. And bread too (certainly better bread for sure because I got impatient with the rising and it didn't turn out so great). But there's something so satisfying about the self-sufficiency and simplicity of creating your own bread and butter. Maybe it's not an everyday project but it's certainly a must-give-it-a-try-once project.

Leftovers + Kool-Aid Pickles

Leftovers garnish two reactions-- 1) those who are appalled by their mere existence and 2) those who strive for ways to have more. My mom raised me to be the latter. We'd make massive quantities of food, eat the leftovers for lunch all week and freeze the rest.

So just imagine my freezer -- stuffed to the limit with meat (if it's on sale, why not buy extra and freeze the rest?) and lingering portions of meals. The only time this can backfire is during a very long electricity outage.

It's rather ironic that this happened after a post where I ranted about my apartment. After months and months, the electrical wiring is finally getting fixed. Unfortunately, while the electrician was making an estimate, he forgot to flip a random switch back on. And this switch was plugged into none other than the fridge.

When I returned  home after a weekend away to a warm fridge/freezer, I knew I was in trouble. Cleaning it out later that night, I filled 5 garbage bags. I'm responsible for a majority of it. One roommate is always at his girlfriend's, the other rommate doesn't eat (I'm not exaggerating. She lives on water and lettuce. I'm her worst nightmare). So there is a downside to packing so many leftovers in the freezer after all. 

The condiments were saved, at least. Luckily, I had been recently inspired by this Salon article that told me a majority of the condiments I stored in the fridge did not need to  be. Many of them had already been moved to the cabinet. I'm taking a chance on the rest, including my recent Kool-Aid Pickles, which I made after a recent NY Times article profiled the Southern treat. I had never even heard of such a thing until the article. But being that the recipe was Southern, I had no choice but to try it. 

The dill pickles are soaked in double-strength fruity Kool-Aid for a week until they are stained red (or whatever color/ flavor you've chosen; I could only find cherry.). In the end.. they taste like pickles dipped in Kool-Aid.. Which is EXACTLY what they are. I'm not really sure what I was expecting. I have this preconceived notion that most any recipe from the pages of the NY Times is a goldmine until proved otherwise. This was proved otherwise. Let's celebrate other Southern creations like biscuits and gravy, tomato sandwiches and sweet tea. Let's leave the pickles and Kool-Aid separate.

Christmas in June

The only thing better than the return of Top Chef is the return of Top Chef combined with Hell's Kitchen. It's like Christmas in June!

Hell's Kitchen--the Gordon Ramsey culinary boot-camp-- is fascinating for the sheer volatile nature of Ramsey combined with the nerves of the chefs (And who wouldn't be terrified to cook with Ramsey screaming at you in the process!). In tonight's episode, the oldest contestant started crying before service for no real reason and skipped out during service. Practically, all the women cried at one time or another during the service and the only thing that bonded the ladies was shunning the Waffle House cook.

Also.. why do the restaurant patrons constantly complain about their food taking so long. Umm.. Have they watched the show before? This restaurant isn't exactly a place where your food will be served quickly.

Top Chef has a Season 1/Season 2 face-off on Wednesday night, following by the start of Season 3 next week. I'm counting down the hours..

The Cook Versus the Recipe

With every fiber of her being, my mom believes a great recipe turns a good cook into greatness. I've been sworn to secrecy over any recipe I've gotten from her. Even recipes we've gotten together, she warns me to never share-- like our recipe for chicken liver pate that makes me swoon. Every time I mention it, she repeats not to share the recipe. But WE took it from Gourmet!! All of this begs the question -- does a great recipe lead to an astonishing meal or can a good cook work with anything given?

A few weeks ago, Kristen talked about sloppy joes, which made my mouth water for my mom's recipe. It's a blend of sweetness, tartness and just the most amazing comfort food I can put in my mouth (not to mention quick to make). I would ask for it as my birthday meal until age 18 (and maybe even after). I couldn't get enough.

I finally got the chance to make the recipe tonight. While I was cooking, I was debating whether I should blog about the recipe. Is it fair to write (and positively gloat) about a recipe that I can not share? But if I share it, I risk never getting a hold of one of mom's recipes again. That's not even an option.

By the time my sloppy joe mixture was finished cooking, I went in for a taste. This wasn't the same flavor that I had grown up with. I played around with the ingredients further, trying to recreate the sloppy joes of my childhood. Still not quite right. Not sweet enough? But then it wasn't tangy enough. How does my mom always get it so right?

That's when I decided. It didn't matter if I gave the recipe or not. The recipe is only magic in my mother's hands for no one can make it like her.

Crispy Fruit??

Crispy and fruit aren't exactly two words that go together, which is why I stopped mid-aisle of the grocery store to take a closer look. Crispy Green Crispy Fruits came in an assortment of flavors and were kind of on sale (2 for $3). So why not? I tossed the pineapple and apricot into my cart.

It's all fruit -- nothing added but it's like eating fruit candy. Or, more appropriately, space fruit. It's similar to astronaut ice cream -- Crunchy, airy and sweet, except this is bursting with fruit flavor.

How is this possible? According to their website, the fruit undergoes a "sophisticated freeze-drying process... leaving behind the true essence of the fruit in a light and crispy texture." The website also boasts the product was listed as one of the "100 Tastes You Must Try in 2007" by Food & Wine mag.

Are you sold yet?? Because now that I've reeled you in, I'm going to dispense the bad news. The fruit comes in the smallest package I've ever seen. And when all's said and done, those little packages only produce maybe half a handful of these treats. $1.50 (on sale, mind you) for that?? This must be one mighty expensive dry-freezing process..

Then I read more from the website ---it takes about more than 10 pounds of fresh fruit to produce 1 pound of freeze-dried fruit because water makes up 80-90% of fruit weight. Ahhhh.. There we go..

The crispy fruit is a lovely notion but I may have to wait until the price is lowered until I allow myself to be addicted to it.

Look at These Pretty Eggs!

Because I just don't understand how sunnyside egg get cooked on the top, I always revert to making mine over easy. Leave it to a cookbook entitled "Eggs" to give me a tip on making the perfect sunnyside eggs. Fry the eggs for a minute or two before placing a lid over them! What magic! What genius!

So I tried it the other day.. The bottom of the egg had a slight crispness to  it, which I have to admit to liking. But I slightly overcooked the first egg yolk. And then I wayyy overcooked the second egg yolk. It's very hard to judge when the eggs are finished cooking when there's a steamy lid over them. On the other hand, the eggs just looked so beautiful!  I almost didn't want to eat them because I was so proud of my pretty sunnyside up eggs.

Now I'm just confused on whether I like the lid-over-eggs method. I may try it again to perfect the timing. But what's the point in eating pretty eggs when I can't get them cooked properly?

Organic on $7 a Day?

In the past week,  I've had multiple conversations about the cost of eating organic. Which is why I gasped with excitement to see an article posted on msn.com -- Eating Organic on $7 a Day. (It's like they knew I had been wrestling with this issue all week.)

The article lost me after suggesting veggies and rice for a breakfast alternative. I can't even digest sugary substances before 11 a.m, let alone vegetables. Here were other suggestions:

-- Meats and seafood are too expensive, so they land in the produce aisle. I don't know about y'all, but the organic produce aisle isn't so cheap either. The dietitian recommended canned sardines as a good, cheap fish option.

-- Incorporate more tofu into your diet. This I may do - except I am flawed on the actually cooking of tofu.

-- The article says a serving of homemade hummus is 90 cents. I don't know how they are making hummus, but when I made it I was outraged at the $7 tahini needed for it. And that doesn't even factor in the other ingredients.

-- This is where we lose money, according to the article -- "Crackers, chips, sweetened drinks, convenience bars and juice all cost a lot but are nutritional black holes, says Smith. Crackers, for example, price out at $1 per ounce. " Duh. I think most people could have told you this.

The main point I got from this article? You can't eat organic on $7 a day (as my grocery bill already attests too). Plus, I'd rather pay a little more money than be on a constant diet of sardines and rice. But I really will try and add tofu to my diet more. So I guess the article wasn't a complete waste, even if it wasn't the shining glory I had hoped it would  be.