January 2008

Bunch of BS? No problem!

Thursday, January 31st, 2008

Here’s an easy menu of simple ingredients that will work for the veg-happy and satisfy males that aren’t ferocious about having hearty slabs of beef every night.

1. Brown rice with parmesan
2. Golden-crusted Brussells Sprouts (you like them, though you may not know it yet)
3. Balsamic chicken tenders

Ingredients:

* 12 or more of the tiniest, firmest BS you can find, fresh
* Parmesan or other nutty cheese (romano, gouda, gruyere). Can be ground or you can shred it from a block, 3-4 T worth.
* Brown rice- the short grain variety, round and chunky
* Chicken tenders- I used an 8-pack for a small, 2 person meal.
* 2-3 T balsamic vinegar
* 1/4 c broth (veg or what-have-you)
* splash of wine (one for the pot, one for me)
* olive oil, extra virgin

I keep parm, broth, vinegar, and wine around at all times, so really only need to shop for ck, BS, rice. And if you don’t have olive oil in permanent stock, you are a lousy cook and a worse citizen.

Start with prepping the BS: rinse and chop. I like to have them in a salad spinner bowl in the sink, running cold water over them while I peel off the outside ratty leaves. This way I can dump the water out and give them a little spin to get the excess moisture off. Turns out that when your veg or meat is wet, steaming occurs in hot oiled pans that you will want to avoid if you are after a crispy sort of finish. Turn them out onto a cutting board and use your biggest chef’s knife to cut off the stumpy stem and slice off any bruises or blackish discolorations. Slice each BS in half top to bottom (bottom being the stem side).

Toss or rub them with olive oil (about 1 T), making sure that the flat sides get good and oily, as they will be face down on a hot pan.

Start the water boiling for the rice. Use 2 parts water to 1 part rice. I usually do 3/4 c rice for a side dish for two. Add a dash of salt if you must.

Back to the BS: Use the thickest pot/pan you have, either an iron skillet or one of those cast iron Le Creuset shenanigans with a lid (since they are about $300 a pop, I use the Ikea version, and don’t yet know what I’m missing). 1 T olive oil over medium heat. When spit or water drops sizzle, add the BS flat side down, sprinkle with salt, cover and cook for 5 minutes. Don’t let your oil smoke and don’t let the BS brown too fast. I just burned mine, which is why I’m not giving you a picture of this meal. Some leaves will have separated from the main BS, which is just fine. Poke with a fork to see if they’re tender, then let them continue to brown for 3-4 more minutes, tossing with a spatula to get the backsides, too. You’re after a crispy, brown look, tender all the way through.

Transfer to a serving dish and toss in parmesan. I find that my OXO lemon zester is a fantastic hand-held grater for a block of cheese. Set it aside.

By now, if not sooner, your water will have boiled. Add the rice, cover, reduce heat after it comes to a boil again. I get mine to a lowish medium flame and stir it occasionally, keeping a wary eye out so as not to burn the bottom. This will cook down to edible rice in 15-20 minutes.

On a plate, mix dash of salt and pepper with 2 T flour, and dredge the chicken cutlets therein. Somehow flour-coated meat keeps it moister inside and gives it a nice texture outside. Use the same pan as for the BS, adding 1-2 T olive oil and heating it to med-high. Add chicken in a single layer and cook for 3 minutes. Drizzle the balsamic vinegar over the row and then dribble in the broth and splash the wine, too. Keep your face and arms back, as water+hot oil=spattering burns, duh. Cover it, reduce the flame a bit and give it another 3 minutes. Chicken should be fairly tender without giving anyone salmonella. I give in to the stab and pry urge, just to be sure there are no sketchy pink juices issuing forth.

Give the dinner-is-ready call to your eating companions. When the rice is done, mix in 2 T parmesan.

Eat it up.

I was introduced to Brussells Sprouts for the first time last month in my farm co-op delivery. After a brief panic, I found this recipe online and have stuck to its general idea here.

It’s 1:30 am, and I feel like this

Friday, January 25th, 2008

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Needlessly flying Zenburgers

Thursday, January 24th, 2008

Some of you (KL) may remember a vegetarian restaurant in Union Square at which a certain younger sister explained to the waitress that she just didn’t eat vegetables. 

I am delighted to find that they have opened a similar branch near my office.  Sadly, their website suffers from those misled Flash-heavy (is it Flash that does that, KL?) flying graphics that take forever to load when all you want is an address and menu. 

 Off I go for lunch. 

Jolly for trolley

Sunday, January 20th, 2008

Well, kids, I’ve finally learned to identify the smell of pot. You know how there are so many Starbucks that you can smell pockets of coffee aroma on every city block? Same thing with pot here, but it’s about two pockets per block. I suppose San Francisco is the perfect classroom for this, but to be honest, that’s the only stereotype expectation that’s been met. Frankly, my tourism hopes have not been met here; five days and nary a homosexual or hippie in sight.

It may have something to do with the MacWorld gang of hipsters, nerds, programmers clustered here in Union Square, but we have been making an effort to tramp through other neighborhoods and the closest we’ve come is a tomboyish girl with short hair and a few women with long hair and drapey scarves.

If I don’t see some flames tomorrow in Haight-Ashbury, I want my money back.
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What I learned from reading David Quammen today

Friday, January 4th, 2008

“Semelparity: an animal or plant waits a very long time to procreate only once, does so with suicidal strenuousness, and then promptly dies.  The act of sexual reproduction proves to be ecstatically fatal, fatally ecstatic.  And the rest of us are left merely to say, Wow.”

Semelparitous creatures: bamboo, agaves, Pacific salmon. 

Jim Elliot comes to mind. 

 I suppose that’s at least one notable similarity between salmon who goad themselves upstream, upwaterfalls, upwhitewater to get to their breeding grounds where they blow their, um, supplies and die of exhaustion and earnest young men practicing chastity.    Perhaps they don’t all meet such early and unfortunate ends as Mr. Elliot.  Still.

You may not die a virgin, but you may die just barely not a virgin.

new year’s eve

Wednesday, January 2nd, 2008

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