Tag Archives: Cooking

Project ice cream space

Last night I processed some pictures. Pictures of a certain Lodge, a certain basset hound named Charlie, and a certain woman named Ree Drummond.  I’m thinking either Friday or Monday I will finally face the world with the PW Weekend series, part #1.

Why haven’t I snappity snapped out parts 1-70 already, you ask? Well, see, I have this guy that hangs around my apartment who likes to call himself my ‘husband’, and this man-creature has been requiring my attention for a couple evenings. I know–the nerve! But after all the busyness of the past couple weekends, we were waaaaay behind on our snuggling quota. And that may take priority over, um, blogging? Um, if that’s OK with you? So for today, a story of meat and ice cream and their ongoing battle in our home.

Are you upset that I’m making you wait? OK, fine.

Here’s a completely gratuitous picture of Ree. I snapped it last Friday night.

Happy?

OK, great. And now for something completely different.

I blogged a while ago about how full our freezer was, and conveyed my hopes of freeing up some space so that for the first time in over a year we could fit in some ice cream.

That hasn’t happened yet, but to spur ourselves on towards our goal, we have officially inaugurated the policy of using the food we have until the ice cream fits. I am no longer welcome to shop in the fish or meat section of our grocery store and refill the freezer gaps we create with new frozen delights. And I’ve only broken this rule about 3 times! I consider that a triumph. The only thing I’m truly dreading is having to cook that dang duck. Duck seems like the kind of dish that could go horribly wrong, doesn’t it?

Significant progress was made in Project Ice Cream Space a few Saturdays ago, when the late hour of 10pm found us immersed in a cooking tornado.

The second arm roast from my grandfather Big Jake, an unwieldly hunk of meat responsible for occupying a solid 15% of our freezer, had been defrosting all day. From experience, we knew this arm roast would not fit into one pot. So we did it again–we made two pot roasts out of the one arm roast.

Have you ever cooked late at night? It has a completely different feel to it. It adds a component of madness. And frenzy–a frenzy to get to the relaxing part of Saturday night. Knives, onion skins, and raw meat seemed to be everywhere.

I used the same recipe that I’ve shared before. It has blueberries, it has balsamic vinegar, and if you don’t try this amazing combination, the word ‘friend’ will hold no more meaning betwixt us. That’s right, it’s a pot roast ultimatum.

I just have to draw the line between ‘friends’ and ‘enemies’ somewhere, folks. I hold firm to my values of peace, love, truth, Balsamic Blueberry Pot Roast Delight, and justice.

Just kidding! Please keep being my friend. Thank you.

By the end of all the cookery we were ready to settle in and watch a movie. My dishwasher/sous chef was pretty beat.

I dutifully set my alarm for 6am the next day so that I could pop the roasts in the oven bright and early. . . and then scramble back into bed.

As a result of all this madness, soon our freezer will have room for some French Vanilla. Chocolate Caramel. Peanut Butter Chocolate. Mango Sorbet.

Since the theme of this post is obviously ‘excess,’ tomorrow I will be posting the result of another excessive venture: Mini Pumpkin Muffins. They are delicious. They are addictive. And the recipe made 72 of these little orange guys. That’s for a household of 2 people. I’ve been eating those guys for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and hoping that my metabolism can just pretend they never happened.

Dear Metabolism,

Please do some magical math and make the dozens of mini pumpkin muffins I ate become a smaller number. Please take any excess fat that may have been consumed and churn it into energy as quickly as possible. Do not allow the aforesaid fat to think it’s welcome to stay. It’s not! It must go! EVERYTHING MUST GO!

Anyway, I promise to do some leg lifts or something tomorrow when I have some more time, and we can make ammends with the laws of physics and biology at that point.

Thank you for your consideration,

Jenna

P.S. This is especially urgent since project ice cream space is about to allow more fat-laden foods into my home. Please get back to me with a response at your earliest convenience.

Recipe for mini pumpkin muffies will be up tomorrow! You may want to write advance letters to your own metabolism–or invite over 72 friends so that there is a ratio of only one muffin per person.

Sweet and Sour Mushrooms

This recipe is designed to help tide me over until I have time to blog about our Thanksgiving capers in Kentucky . . . a gorgeous photo shoot with my pregnant sister . . . my fabulous weekend trip to the Pioneer Woman’s ranch . . . and that gig Sunday night with my friend Carrie. So much to say! So many pictures to process! Soon Christmas adventures will be added to the list and my head just might explode. With joy. Good, old fashioned, blogging overload joy.

In the meantime, I thought I’d share this versatile little number with you. To the mushroom haters in the crowd: have you considered mushroom rehab? Where you work towards liking this fungus in a 30-day program? I hear there’s a similar program for blue cheese haters.

It’s just something to think about, you know. No need to get all defensive there. The little fungus guys and the moldy cheese should be welcomed into your home this Christmas season, not rejected and left out to freeze in a snow bank.

Anyway, enough proselitizing. This is super quick to toss together. It can be a delightful side dish, or it can be a main dish, piled on some rice with two fried eggs on top. I found the original recipe via TastyKitchen from food blogger Fuji Mama, but I couldn’t resist adding a little garlic. Just make sure to eat it with piles upon piles of white rice–that alone will make your life complete.

Ingredients

(Serves 3 as a side dish)

8 oz mushrooms, chopped (any kind works–I used Portobellini)

2 cloves garlic, minced

1.5 TBS sesame oil

1 TBS soy sauce (to taste)

2 green onions, for garnish (optional)

2 TBS rice wine vinegar

1 TBS sugar

pinch salt

2 eggs (optional)

First, wipe the mushrooms clean. Would you look at this beauty? Oh my.

I love mushrooms.

Oh wait, have I already said that? Like, a million times? Sorry.

I’ll try to be more interesting. And say things that are more unexpected.

As the punches swung right and left and the plate of stuffed mushrooms went flying across the reception hall, Marissa used her volleyball skills from 20 years prior to make a body dive across the slippery floor–not a single mushroom could go to waste! Leroy knew it was true love when he saw the concentration in her beautiful face, and the athletic arm-reach that enabled the platter of delicious little appetizers to land safely on her upturned palm. Then in a fit of love he cried “Marry me Marissa! We shall serve stuffed mushrooms at our wedding, and make them a cornerstone of our hearth and home!”

See? ‘Surprise’ is my middle name.

Slice them up.

This would also be a good time to mince the garlic.

Heat the sesame oil in a skillet over medium-high heat for a couple minutes. When the oil is hot, add the mushrooms and garlic.

Fry for 5 minutes. Don’t be like me and overcrowd the pot/pan . . . it will slow the process down significantly. In these pictures you can see that I had doubled the recipe, but I should have spread the mushrooms out into two skillets. If not, you can get in the way of the browning.

Add the soy sauce and continue to fry until golden and delicious, about 5-8 more minutes.

While the mushrooms are cooking, heat the rice vinegar, sugar, and pinch of salt in a little bowl in the microwave for 30 seconds.

Stir to dissolve.

Bam! You just made something called ‘amazu’ (the sweet and sour sauce). Don’t you feel international?

Toss the cooked mushrooms in the amazu (the vinegar mixture) and serve!

Yum!

If you want to top the mushrooms with eggs to make it into a meal, fry the eggs in a tablespoon of oil and drizzle some seasoning on top: hot sauce, oyster sauce, hoisin sauce, or dark sweet soy sauce (kecap manis, which is what I used below) and a minced green onion.

About a week prior, I made this dish with a mixture of white beech, shiitake, and enoki mushrooms.

It was delicious, but the texture of cooked enoki gave me the eebly jeeblies.

Doesn’t it look like . . . alien innards?

I loved it the first day . . .

. . . but after a night in the refrigerator, I couldn’t bring myself to revisit it. The words ‘cold’ and ‘slimy’ did it to me.

So let’s go back to our friendly Portobellini–a little less photogenic, but so much friendlier after refrigeration!

I also want to make this with crimini mushrooms. And shiitake mushrooms. And oyster mushrooms. It’s so basic, and quick, and easy, and tasty–all mushrooms must be allowed to participate.

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