What’s for Dinner?

Chris and I both like buffalo wings. My favorites are actually the ones my brother used to fry up in the kitchen at Ruby Tuesday’s, when he and I both worked there. That was twelve years ago now (wow.) He would always make his crazy off-the-menu hot, not so hot for me.

Now Ruby’s is under new ownership (the whole chain, that is), and I dunno if their wings are the same or not. Chris likes the wings at the Ram Brewery, and they are actually the ones that remind me most of the ones that David used to make back when. But you know what? I think my favorites are the buffalo wings at Hooters. (I’m taking you to the menu here, sparing you the chatty waitress on the homepage. Click on “chicken wings.”) They are breaded (you can get them without), and more like fried chicken. The hot sauce is sort of inside the breading, so you don’t get the sauce all over your face (but if you’re me, you get the bleu cheese there, anyway.)

Remember when opening a new Hooters was the talk of the town? I remember a big hoopla when they first opened one in Champaign. I dunno why people complained. I’m not really into women being objectified or anything, but I’m just saying that no one seemed to have a problem with the strip clubs just outside of town. The Hooters waitresses are dressed, after all. Somewhat.

I started eating at a Hooters when I lived in Nashville. It was literally in my backyard. I was shy about going in at first, and soon I was going by myself to sit down to a beer and some wings on the way back from work. The menu was more limited then… I seem to remember maybe burgers, an open-faced steak sandwich, the wings, and not much else. Chris likes their burgers.

Now Hooters has salads, healthier options, blah blah blah. I’ll probably never try any of those things, because I don’t know if I can go in there and not get the hot wings.

Chris accompanied me on a recent trip to get a replacement part for a sofa I had purchased out at Woodfield Mall (I can never buy a piece of assembly-required furniture that doesn’t have a broken piece, it seems) and I practically hijacked the car when we drove past Hooters. I know he’s been worried about the amount we’ve been eating out/driving through lately, but what can I do? When baby wants wings, baby wants wings.

Actually, I wonder if it was the hooters baby wanted…

Well, hello dere!

I am officially back from hiatus. I am a bit over four months pregnant now, and mercifully over my nausea. I can look at food, and eat food (and now I can post about food). It is wonderful. For the last two weeks I have felt blessed every day.

I have a lot of photos to catch up on. I’m going back to Christmas, here! The organization is probably going to take me most of the day today. But we’ve moved to another town, and first I have to find the USB cord to my camera…

Well, here’s one that was already in the hopper. Are you familiar with Amish Friendship Bread? Someone makes you a live yeast starter. They give you a bag with the dough starter and the live yeast in it, plus a set of instructions. Most days, the instruction is, “Mush up.” Then you add some flour and sugar: once during the proliferation phase, and once again right before you bake.

The batter will bubble up in the bag, showing you that the yeast is growing. It just sits on the counter and does its thing. At the point of baking, you are to split the starter off into several new bags. Then you have some new starters to give to other people, and one to bake with yourself (that’s why it’s called friendship bread.) Who knows where these things actually got started, or how many times these little yeasties have gone around the country?

My friend Kira first made me the Amish friendship starter when I lived in Peoria… And I was too broke to buy a new bag of flour and sugar to actually make the bread, so sadly my little yeasties died unfufilled. I didn’t see another starter for several years. You don’t have to wait for someone to hand you a starter, however. Here are directions for creating your own starter. You can do this with packaged yeast. Just remember the cardinal rule of Amish bread (which as it turns out, is probably as Amish as I am): no metal spoons! No metal bowls! And no wire hangers! EVER!

Just be ready when you get into this. I last made this when my boss and his wife went out of town, and she trusted me to perpetuate her starters. They were gone long enough that I had to turn the starters over twice. That means shucking myself of six total starters, and making four loaves for myself. Finding “homes” for the starters is not always easy. I don’t have a lot of friends who are into baking. I tried to give the first set to family members, and they were all like, “Ucchhhh…” The responsibility! You don’t want to let the little microbes die, and then YOU have to find three people to give the starters away to. And a lot of people, it turns out, are not into having living things on their countertops. Several people I asked in my playgroup were convinced that bacteria was growing in there. My arguments that a proliferation of yeast suppressed any blooms of bacteria fell on dead ears. Folks don’t realize that there is yeast in most any bread they are eating, either. You have to eat things that were once alive, people. Rocks are not an option.

Anyway, if you are successful in giving the starters away, I think it is worth it. The bread is very good! Here is the recipe I used:

1 c. flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp.
1 c. sugar
1 tsp. cinnamon
3 large eggs
1 c. oil (I used 1 cup applesauce instead)
1 tsp. vanilla
1 large package instant pudding (any kind)
1/2 c. milk
optional: 1 c. raisins, nuts, or chocolate chips

I went for the chocolate pudding, and added chocolate chips and walnuts. I also used whole wheat flour (just at this last add: I didn’t want to mess with the chemistry the other times in case there was less gluten in the wheat flour.)

You generously grease two loaf pans, combine 3 T. sugar and 1 T. of cinnamon, and dust the sides and bottom of the pan. Bake at 325 degrees for 1 hour, and you are done!

The bread was great toasted in the morning with a little light butter. I froze the second loaf until I was ready for it, and it worked very well.

My second time around, I used butterscotch pudding, and butterscotch chips instead of the chocolate version. It didn’t have a butterscotch flavor, just very sweet. This one was good with pumpkin butter.

That one was tasty, but I think I preferred the chocolate. Good luck with your bread, and if you start a starter, you can always give one to me! Next time I get one of these, I may make all eight loaves, freeze them, and just share THOSE with my friends (”Or eat them myself,” said the Little Red Hen…)

Guess what I did yesterday? I asked my husband this very question, and he said, “Went for a walk?” I said no. He said, “Put up the new chandelier?” I said, uh, no. I watched Paula Deen! A whole show! I’m not sure he got the significance of that. But after being unable to look at a print ad of food, let alone sit through a single television commercial (I hate you more than ever, Quizno’s) for the last two months, watching a WHOLE cooking show is a momentous occasion.

And are you ready for this? I even shopped for, and cooked one of the items she made (beefy mac, though of course I didn’t actually consult her recipe at all. Not EVERYthing has changed around here). There just may be hope for me yet. (Okay, I’m still too preoccupied to post a picture quite yet, but soon. Soon…)

I’m eating my third Jimmy John’s sandwich this week at this moment. It is a very plain sandwich, minus several veggies that I normally find appealing, and it is often the only thing I can think of in the whole entire world that doesn’t make me want to hwarf at the concept of eating. I have some friends who have been told to avoid coldcuts while pregnant, but I am slipping by on the loophole right now that my doctor hasn’t mentioned it. I also know that Chris would be a lot happier if I could find something at the grocery store that I would like to eat, but try as I might, sometimes I can’t think of one single thing. One thing made him happy, though: we switched my meds to Costco tonight (from Walgreen’s), and found that they cost TEN times less. That’s right, down from $300 to $30 for no discernible reason. Yay! Let’s celebrate with a sandwich!

This is the type of culinary thrill-ride that I’ve left you guys out of the loop on for way too long, and I’ve decided to begin to share again. You’re welcome!

I dunno if any of my ol’ food blog buddies or friends that read my blog are still out there… But I feel an explanation for my long absence is in order.

I am currently close to ten weeks pregnant. My husband and I are very happy and excited. This is our first child, and there is plenty of reason to celebrate. The problem is, I had been very sick in the last few weeks. I was basically crawling to the bathroom and back to bed even until last week. My doctor put me on some meds (it was either that or be given fluids) and thankfully they helped quite a bit. Even though the medicine, Zofran, costs more than I imagine many illegal substances do (even with insurance coverage), I’m grateful that something worked.

When the sickness first hit, my husband and I were on a cruise ship, on a trip that we’d been planning for six months or so. Suddenly I couldn’t stand the smell or the taste of any of the food on the boat, and I spent the second half of the trip doubled over in pain from I still don’t know what. Stomach acid? I couldn’t call my regular doctor or any friends ($7.99 a minute to call out), and the Carnival ship’s nurse was an incredible bitch who told me (amongst other things) that there was nothing I could safely take since I was pregnant (not true: Tums, Mylanta and Pepcid are all now on my ok list), and why didn’t I just try drinking some milk? As if I hadn’t tried that already. She wouldn’t allow me to talk to the ship’s doctor because in her words, “I needed to take her word for it.” All I could keep down were some Cheerios for several days. Don’t get sick on a cruise, people.

Anyway, my point is that ever since the vaguely seafood-ish, definitely revolting odor that was present everywhere on that ship, I have had a very tenuous relationship with food. I don’t have cravings yet, but I have some intense food aversions. For awhile, all I could stand was “tinned food”: canned soup, chicken salad, Spaghetti-O’s — you know — crap. The type of crap I don’t normally look at in the store, let alone bring home with me. And now I can’t stand that stuff, so I have a cabinet full of canned soup that Chris has to eat for me, a little at a time. And he didn’t want any of it in the first place. And don’t get me started on the odor in my refrigerator that apparently only I can detect. I have to hold my breath every time I open the door.

So what I’m saying is, I dunno if I can stand to blog about food just yet. Hunger and appetite as I knew them are long gone (I get nauseous, never hungry), and I have to keep telling myself that one day I will get to have my body to myself again. Right now I’m fighting a mental battle between the spicier foods that I like, and the stomach acid that I know will ensue if I dare to eat Indian food or, heaven forbid, drink a Fresca (I might as well suck on a car battery). But I’ve continued to improve, so I might soon be able to think about food long enough to write about it. I am hopeful. And I have enough stock photos and stories that I can start again quite soon.

Hang in there with me just a bit longer if you can. I’m looking forward to blogging about cravings in my second trimester, the post-birth mommy diet, and homemade baby food one day!

I just wrote an email to my friend Brooke that I think pretty much sums up my current situation, including my culinary environment at the moment:

“I haven’t cooked in a week at least. It is so weird! I’m in my kitchen, but we haven’t unearthed the pots or the dishes yet. There is a mountain of boxes in the living room, a ton still in the Pod in the driveway, and a whole storage unit full of stuff that we have to empty. And several pieces of used furniture that I have 30 days to pick up from a store that I bought yesterday. And I’ve been going berserk measuring windows and selecting on-sale window treatments. I also picked my paint colors. So most of the time, it is Taco Bell night around here… I can’t wait to get back to normal. I’m gonna have ten pounds to lose by the time that treadmill finally goes in downstairs!

In fact, I may clip this last bit out and post it on my food blog. My poor blogs…”

So there you have it. Last night we got a rotisserie chicken and some steamed veggies from “Essence of Europe,” the eastern European grocery store close to our house, and that was the culinary treat of the week. Hang in there, when I scale these boxes, I will soon be posting again. At least we have our internet and cable hooked up! We moved just a few miles, but I had an attack last night when I discovered that Bravo wasn’t a part of our basic cable package. I am sad to tell you that I paid an extra $15 a month just to get it. I can’t live without Bravo… But now we get “On Demand” (whatever that is), and the Sci-Fi channel (hello, my fellow nerds!), the DIY channel and some other stuff I like. So we reduced our Netflix package to compensate.

Anyhoo, thanks for hanging in there with me. Look for some foodie posts in the next 3 days or so! Now on to this unpacking…

If you can avoid it (which we really couldn’t), I wouldn’t recommend trying to arrange the sale of your home, the purchase of another, visiting relatives homes out-of-town (twice), and having your brother in from L.A. all at the same time. Actually, the part about having Dave here has just made things more fun, but things have been pretty crazy. What I’m trying to say is, sorry about not posting lately. I’ll be better next year (like after we close January 8th.)

Did I ever show you my old microwave? The one that had the handle that broke off, and fell in two large chunks into the pasta sauce I was cooking at the time?

The one I repaired with super glue, rubber bands, and garbage bag ties? No? Well, that might be because you were coming over for dinner, and I didn’t want you to cancel when you saw this thing.

(Yes, we had to have that repaired before selling the place.) I have looked forward to getting a new house and a new, gigantic kitchen for longer than I can tell you.

Well, that time has finally arrived. As of January, I will take possession of my Kitchen of the Future, which is not gigantic, but it sure is new!

It has much more usable counterspace (and granite tops, yay!) than my current kitchen, and those new appliances… I can’t wait. The stove is electric, which I do not prefer, but I can try to adapt. If I can’t, I may have to go back to gas. I will no doubt burn countless dishes before I get used to it, but I am going to try. I had seen bigger kitchens in the homes we looked at, but this place overall was such a great fit for us that I think it is worth it (and hey, it is bigger than the alley kitchen I have now.) I plan on putting a built-in cabinet space, or just a large buffet at the head of the dining area for extra dish storage. I’m really looking forward to the new-ness of it all!

I am so sorry about my infrequent posting of late… I have been cooking all week, however, just to keep myself sane in between the house-hunting. We put an offer on a house, which we have retracted based on the results of the home inspection. That’s one that we paid for with real money, and one inspection by a lovely architect named Marco that we met through my friend Maira. We paid Marco with a bolognese pasta dinner I made him. And fudge.

I have a few photos of that for later, but for now I have something that you must read. My brother is the funniest person on earth, and when you read this account of his lunch with his boss (have a strong stomach), you’ll see that I’m in no way biased.

I found this article from the Wall Street Journal to be intensely illuminating, and I just had to share it. (Please do not get the impression that I am a regular WSJ reader; I am nowhere near that deep.) At first I clicked on the title and read it just out of curiosity: a new taste discovered? Neat.

But now I realize that this article is all about me. Some of you out there are sweetness junkies and carb-lovers. My husband is a good example: we have joked for years about the loving way that he hovers over any pastry, bread, rice, potato, sugary snack or, *gasp*, any combination of the aforementioned (like a cinnamon roll, or a sugared pastry.) I have always said that I like salt as much as he likes sugar, but that isn’t exactly right. I do often find dishes to be too salty. But now I know what it is that I really crave: umami!

The article describes “umami” as the deep, meaty, satisfying and complex flavor that is present in a variety of foods: Worcestershire sauce, mushrooms, parmesan cheese, anchovies, and on and on. Just as table sugar is “just sweet,” MSG is “just umami.” Some parts of the article are a bit scary, like the goings-on of a certain food lab that is using “an artificial taste bud” (bringing sci-fi images of a large, disembodied organ to mind — if I touched it, would it taste me?) to test artificial means of manufacturing umami, and a PR push to get the public to accept MSG as a “more natural product.” But there are natural ways of bringing out the umami flavor that is already present in foods: by roasting, grilling, drying, and sautéing. To me, this gives a name to something that I have figured out in experimenting with vegetarian foods. Using certain ingredients, combined with certain techniques (mushrooms, parmesan, roasted veggies, grilled tofu and eggplant, sun-dried tomatoes, etc.) make a dish much more satisfying than those without. I’m not a vegetarian, but I think the knowledge makes my vegetarian dishes better. Personally, I think it is umami that separates the vegetarian entrées from the side dishes.

It also explains why I’ve always needed parmesan in my chicken soup! What I need now is a t-shirt that tells the world what I really am: “Umami Freak.”

P.S. I first read this article on a tiny screen in small text — I apologize, but I misspelled umami the first time around. My thanks to those who commented and shouted this at me in ALL CAPS. Oops.

Things have been pretty stressful around here lately… We have been house-hunting, and trying to figure out how to balance what we want in a house (Chris wants a basement, and I want either a nice kitchen, or a house cheap enough to renovate the kitchen) with the area that we want to live in (we like a walk to either downtown Arlington Heights, Mt. Prospect, or Des Plaines). As I write this, we are in a price negotiation over a house. I have decided to post in an attempt to distract myself from the worrying!

When my time is limited, I tend to rely on Trader Joe’s or other places that I can get simple, prepped food to put together (Market Day helps, too). Chris requested “broccoli pizza” one night, and I thought that sounded good, too. I dunno where he came up with that, but I was happy to provide something so simple.

I steamed a bag of pre-cut broccoli florets, and shredded some smoked jack cheese over some plain shredded mozzarella. I layered them over tomato sauce and extra minced garlic over a pre-made wheat pizza crust (Tabula Rasa is the Joe’s brand.) While layering the pizza, I caught Chris making an appetizer out of the cheese and broccoli.

He was putting a small pile of smoked cheese atop a steamed broccoli floret and eating them one at a time. I tried it, and he was really onto something, there!

I knew that the pizza would turn out well because our snack had been so good. That rich taste that broccoli has, and the smoked cheese went really well together.