mango-dillas

I’m sure it had already been invented, but my mom and I like to think we coined the special hybrid term pizzadillas – a delightful cross between a pizza and a quesadilla, or simply an open-faced quesadilla. So I figure if we can coin a term like that, I can coin another one: the mango-dilla.

The other night when we became suddenly hungry at 8, we decided to see what we could “throw together” together in the kitchen. The result? What I often call “accidental gourmet,” something you’re really not expecting to taste that great but somehow just does.

It went kinda like this: Hmm, homemade whole wheat tortillas in the freezer. Hmm, leftover tropical fruit salsa. A chunk of blah cheese that just might go the distance. Cilantro, check. Green onion, check. Now for the protein. Cans of tuna? Can we do this? But wasn’t that salsa created to go with tuna (steaks) in the first place? So why not? I dug into the can, keeping the fish in chunks rather than breaking it up like you would for a tuna-salad sandwich.

Thanks to the Mexicans for inventing a cuisine that’s so flexible, colorful, fresh and easy. Barely any chopping, 5 minutes in the toaster oven (for me) and the frying pan (for the hubby) and off we were to Oaxaca. Or even Syracuse, where it’s at least as warm. Ole!

gettin’ googly wit’ it

We have this iconic cookie in our family called the Googly Bun. My late Grandpa Ward coined them so, many years before I begun to appreciate their sweet burst of dates. I know there’s a story behind their name that now eludes me. (Ward family members feel free to comment.)

I grew up with those old-school cookie tins mysteriously appearing on the counter at the Ward family cottage. You know the ones . . . round, with pictures of butter cookies of the decidedly NOT homemade sort clustered on the front. Every time I lifted the lid of one of those tins I feared those hideous cookies staring back at me. But ohhhh I was a lucky child. I’d inevitably find instead any number of home-cooked things. If I was especially lucky, they would be of the Googliest sort.

I confess that I didn’t actually like the date-filled cookies Ahem Googly Buns until around the age of sixteen, when my tastebuds started to pine for things more nuanced than nachoes and alphagetti (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Up until that point they were somewhat grown-up cookies. They were oatmeal, after all. Good grief. For any self-respecting kid it was chocolate chip or peanut-butter, thank you very much.

My first attempt at replicating these was my first big move away from home, to Vancouver. I was gathering with new friends one night for a potluck. But this particular potluck had a theme — intentional consumption. We were instructed to bring something special, something with a story. After I had listened to a woman reminisce about the soup she ate every day in Thailand, and after we had passed around a gourd of Argentinian Yerba Mate, I pulled out the Googlies. They were hard little pucks then, for I was a fledgling baker. But those people I barely knew indulged me, and convinced me that they liked my cookies. I’m sure my Grandpa enjoyed every minute of it.

Because even the best things can always be made better, I set out on a search for a slightly softer, lighter cookie than the one I’d grown up on. Over at Elise’s blog I found what looked like a reasonable candidate. I did a test run of a few plain ones, and I was an immediate convert. If you don’t have the time and energy for the date filling, just make these. They are TO DIE FOR. And that’s coming from someone who, in the great arena of cookie options, still leans heavily towards those of the chocolate chip variety. These cookies, straight from the oven with the perfect hint of whole grain sweetness, might just be good enough to change your mind.

(I apologize for the shameless Will Smith reference in the title. Forgive me, I’m a child of the 90s.)

hey diddle diddle

Since reading Michael Pollan’s magical chapter on foraging, I’ve been tempted to brave soggy spring forests on the hunt for mushrooms and other edible treasures. So far, this has remained a pipe dream. Good writing can do that to you; when words trump experience, armchair adventure is born.

As good as his prose is I still haven’t got my hands into the dank earth beyond my doorstep. As convincing his argument for the virtue of growing and gathering, I still haven’t turned over a single fallen tree, hoping to catch the flash of creamy mushroom-flesh it might conceal underneath. But on Saturday morning I did vacate the armchair long enough to indulge in some foraging of my own: at the Regional Market.

With bags in hand, my market mate and I set out after so many other Central New Yorkers to see what new bounty Spring had cobbled together. Flowers and herbs spilled out of the covered sheds as sunlight poured into their place. Seedlings boasted bright green sprouts, as if coveting our affection from their plastic beds. All the usual suspects were there, from the bread- to the buffalo-people.

With a pound of PDH Farms ground bison, a dozen of my favourite free-range eggs, and some locally-grown onions jostling for space in my bag, I was ready to be on my merry way.

Until this: “oh look Jen, fiddleheads!”

Adding to its unapologetic whimsy, the word was spoken with such delight and wonder I was drawn immediately to the bag of coiled greens resting at my friend’s fingertips. Though we hadn’t found them growing wildly ourselves, someone had, and we had journeyed past the supermarket to find them. We each procured a meagre ¼ pound for a simple lunch without breaking the bank.

I think I spent more time photographing these alluring young ferns than I did preparing them. It turns out that they flourish in our region, and all the way up to the Canadian Maritimes. The first fruits of the Ostrich Fern, edible fiddleheads turn up only in the Spring – and usually far from grocery store shelves. As I held a tender coil, gently removing the papery brown chaff that still clung to it, I felt as though I was holding a tiny piece of the force of life. Each baby fern breaking through the Spring soil is turned inward on itself to protect it from the still-harsh temperatures. As if accustoming to its new world, they will slowly open, revealing their fluted leaves to the elements in triumph over even the mighty omnivore. But until then, sauteed and sprinkled with some Parmesan Reggiano, they will make for a mighty fine lunch.

*my new dragonfly garden gloves also make an appearance (as background material) in this post

*see Wild Harvest for more information on fiddleheads, as well as cooking and handling tips

5000

Happy 5000 to me, Happy 5000 to me, Happy 5000 to me-eeeeeee, Happy 5000 to me! (for maximum effect, sing to the tune of Happy Birthday).

The rumors are true: freshcrackedpepper has been visited 5000 times in 3 months, not counting our household’s own visits. A HUGE thank you to everyone for supporting this small endeavor to share my kitchen and my life. If it’s any indication, my other blog has been around for 2 and a half years and has just over that many visits. I stand encouraged.

In addition to self-publishing, the Internet has also made it possible to find out how people find you. When a website receives visitors, it is possible to track information about them — not their names but their general location and search terms they used to find the site. And so, in celebration of my big 5000, I wanted to share a David Lettermanesque Top Ten of some of the Google searches that directed visitors here. These have provided great entertainment around our household. I also have a comic to share, the hilarity of which might only be fully appreciated by other bloggers. (One of which who deserves credit for providing it.)

Without further ado, Ladies and Gentlemen,

I present to you the Top Ten (verbatim) Google searches leading people to freshcrackedpepper.com!

10) over mixing problems with quick breads (ok, this one’s legit)

9) sumatra tarbarita peaberry (someone actually searched the specific bean name? must be geeks like us)

8 ) recipes you can make with 3 bananas (gotta hand it to them for the narrow search terms)

7) kombucha earthy smell (not sure if that’s a good thing)

6) rice arborio autobiography (I didn’t know rice had such a story to tell! or could write, for that matter)

5) monarch pass law hot cross buns (huh?)

4) roast chicken vegetarian (someone needs to re-evaluate their vegetarianism)

3) westcott canola spray (our street has it’s own brand of canola oil spray? Now that’s eating local!)

2) cracked pepper gives you gas (my, that’s unfortunate. Beano, anyone?)

and the number 1 Verbatim Google Search leading people to freshcrackedpepper.com:

1) christian couples theme parties (and I thought they were more resourceful than that — what’s wrong with Bible studies and board games?)

And now for the comic . . . hilarious because it’s somehow (and ever so sadly) true.

courtesy of xkcd.com

Goan nostalgic for shrimp curry

One year ago today I was in a plane headed across the world for Delhi. I knew little then of the pleasures India had to offer, in spite of frequent visits to buffets on Ellice Avenue. I knew little as I relaxed for 15 hours in the cool aircraft — watching movies, chatting idly, and eating out of tiny geometric platters — of the variety and intensity of experiences awaiting me.

In a tribute to the year anniversary of our honeymoon, I decided to cook up some curry to honor that wild and indelible trip. Though we didn’t visit the south of India, this recipe is inspired by the cuisine of the southern state of Goa (go-ah), known for its seafood. (The regions we visited boast plates of either Mughal-inspired lamb and chicken or the vegetarian dishes reflecting the Hindu reverance for all life.) Goan food is characterized by the addition of creamy coconut milk and fish to traditional curries.

I found the recipe over at Eat Like a Girl — a pretty blog with a wonderfully cheeky name — which I’ve included for fun. Since today was a double-whammy training day however, I used this recipe merely as inspiration, making it even easier than it already was. We had purchased some pre-cooked frozen shrimp (oh the lows I stoop to in the name of a sale!), and so integrating it into this dish was a no-brainer. I must say though, next time I would spend the extra 3 minutes and cook raw shrimp; our little guys tasted a bit like a long-forgotten cocktail ring rescued from the bottom of a freezer. Oh well, chalk it up to a cheap protein source.

And thanks to the genius boxes of spice mixtures we found recently at our local Indian grocery store, this little cyclist had no spices to measure or grind when she arrived home starving. Having adapted this recipe to the slow-cooker earlier in the day (not to cook the sauce but simply to keep it warm), all it took to deliver the aromas of India to our palates was tossing the shrimp into the simmering sauce, a pot of my hubby’s perfect every time basmati rice, some fresh cilantro, and a table set with cooling yogurt and sweet chutney.

I was unfortunately too hungry to reflect on it properly then, but thinking about it now, the happy dance of chili, cumin, turmeric, fenugreek, cardamom, caraway and cloves on my tongue will always take me back to that radiant land. A land of scents and tastes and heat unimaginable, a place of passion and devotion, a destination where two young lovers set out on the journey to eat and love (and survive!) in the most important of ways — together.

good thing I didn’t sacrifice him to the Ganges, otherwise who would’ve made me rice?

sushi for the scattered

Sometimes you just don’t have time for a sushi party. Sometimes, when you’re surprised with July in the guise of April cool food is what you crave. Add to the mix an apartment that manages to keep itself 8 degrees hotter than the day’s high, and no one’s getting this good looker anywhere near her cooker. (All this was reported before Darling Husband brought home a portable air conditioner. No more boiled Jenny for dinner! And forgive me for calling myself good looking; I just couldn’t resist the saying.)

When the conditions are so, it is time for scattered sushi:

The other day a brief but precious rainfall interrupted some steady summer temperatures with a (I didn’t actually say this in April, did I?!?) refreshing cool. I seized the opportunity to turn on my stove – something I don’t dare when it’s over 25 (77 for the Yanks) – to make some sushi rice. I have a foolproof recipe that I swear takes half the time it does in any fancy-pants rice cooker.

At dinner time all we had to do was slice up a third of a pound of fresh salmon Mark darted out to grab, a half avocado, some scallions, a red pepper, and a bit of cucumber and our dining room morphed into our very own sushi bar. A funky paper lantern recently purchased from the Ottawa IKEA, and a bottle of French Chenin Blanc from an empyreal friend rounded out the meal nicely.

You don’t have to know how to make sushi for this meal. All you need are the ingredients for sushi, and you’re set. However, once mastering this meal, it’s just baby steps to the real thing. But when you MUST HAVE SUSHI NOW and aren’t feeling picky about appearances, this is a noble substitution — not to mention aesthetically pleasing in its own right, the ingredients in your bowl distinct in their raw purity.

Instructions follow, but for those of you interested in making the rolls and all, check out my collection of how-to videos:

• over the pond these women win for the best accents, best rice making info, and great rolling advice.
• In this one the chef does it a little differently than we do, using a half sheet of nori instead of a full. But he has some great tips I can’t wait to apply, like spreading the rice and cutting techniques.
• this one is haphazard but cute, reflecting how I usually roll it.
• this one provides incredibly thorough steps on how to make nigiri.
• You want to learn fast? this one will teach you, in true Japanese rapid-fire form!

distractions for the liberated and caffeinated

A weekend full of antics with the parents screeched to a halt at a calm sunny Monday. Today, Central New York traded its fiery attire in for a more modest costume of breezy, sit-on-the-porch-all-day comfort. The weekend’s heat wave might have left us withered, but it also coaxed out that summer feeling. Hence a Monday where it was worth getting up before 7, running 7.5 miles, browsing for a dress to wear to a July wedding, and an hour of porch-sitting on a street much quieter than ours.

Getting our replacement espresso machine (scroll down for photo) was a close second to the thrill of having my folks here for a few days. But even the thought of waking up to this beauty every morning isn’t amusing me lately as much as this video. Feast your eyes, feminists and coffee geeks alike:

As with many cultural and historical anecdotes, this video amused and disgusted me. It got me thinking about a conversation I had with friends over wine last week about wanting recognition and appreciation, and how food often provides that — whether we like it or not. Women’s rolls have changed, that is certain. But I have no trouble admitting to a compulsion to feed people I love and be praised for it. Is this not a universal desire for food-lovers, regardless of their sex? I happen to have a darling partner whose quest for the perfect cup of espresso directly benefits me. And I would never, ever think of treating him like this fictional husband treated his wife. Maybe I can just hope it wasn’t actually like that. (Was it?)

Her little cries of “gee,” and wanting to please others to the point of deprecation. Him calling the women at the office “girls.” Her squeals of delight when she finally gets his coffee “right.” The subtleties at the end of a promised reward for her job well done (wink wink, nudge nudge). Sigh. I’m not thinking we’ve got it all right these days either. I’m just thinking wow, they actually got away with that. What will future generations say about our commercials?

And for those of you who care, the latest addition to our colony:

under african skies

With my folks heading into the ‘Cuse tomorrow, I’m going to have to take the weekend off from food blogging. I just won’t have time to write, given the hours I’ve already spent combing Epicurious for dinner ideas worthy of the two people who decided to bring me into the world. (Not to mention devoting my evening to stocking the apartment with “aren’t you proud of me?” treats, like this and these — special request from mama.)

Of course I won’t let them read this post, because I want cooking for them to radiate an effortless, whip up some dinner feel to it. Sort of an “oh yeah, I’ve just got these Malaysian-glazed Halibut fillets with coconut black rice and baby bok choy lying around.” Do mothers ever stress this way about cooking for their children? I doubt it.

Nevertheless, I can’t wait to feed the old birds, as my dad always puts it.

Thank goodness there are millions of other delicious food sites out there to sustain you in my absence. But in case you actually DO notice the three day hiatus however, I’ve decided to leave you with two yummy dishes.

I had the pleasure of cooking an African-themed meal for a friend and her fiance last weekend. It was a special request, in the form of a plaintive “I’ve never HAD African food!” spoken weeks earlier. Having been to Africa, I immediately took on the sole responsibility of educating her on the vast culinary landscape that is Africa.

Not really. I actually just zeroed in on a dish from Sierra Leone and one from Libya that looked interesting and easy to prepare. Thanks to World Hearth, an International cooking site I’ve discovered, you too can be the resident expert on some of the world’s greatest regional foods. So next time someone says to you “I’ve never HAD Uzbekian food,” you can raise an pretentious and well-traveled eyebrow and proclaim, “well I’ll just have to make you my famous Kiimali Mashkichiri sometime soon,” and you won’t have to panic later.

all bottled up

My Kombucha is only 4 days away from sparkly refreshing goodness. The pH reading yesterday registered a healthy 3.0, tasting pretty darn good as well. It needs to be bottled for about 5 days however for it to develop its characteristic fizz, so now I just wait patiently. In the process I’m reminded of how much I like slow food; food, beverages, and whole cuisines that take time are the ultimate antidote to our processed-food craze.

Aren’t they pretty? Strangely, they remind me of the way gas is sold in West Africa — all lined up in variously shaped bottles on the roadside.

We don’t drink Arizona Iced tea, but bought a 12-pack yesterday just for the bottles. A strange reversal indeed; we bought the product for the part most people discard. But it was either that or rummaging around in recycling bins, and I just didn’t have the energy.

It was a really interesting thing to watch, this whole Kombucha thing. The big culture that I started out with in the vat eventually “produced” a new one on top. Some people call this new culture a “baby,” and it provides the basis for the “gift that keeps on giving” nature of the drink. Like sourdough, the culture just keeps going and going . . .

I’ll keep the posts coming about my trials and errors in Kombucha-land!

chomp on these

At social gatherings lately it seems there’s always one show-off. We don’t get out to eat a lot, and so when I hear tell of a place worth checking out, my stomach–hungry or not– immediately perks up. There’s always one, “you’ve never been to (insert name of life-changing restaurant)? You have to go, it’s simply superb, dahling.” You get the point.

Now it’s my turn to share a find: CNY Menus. The decor is a bit lacking, but they do have the most delicious list of Syracuse-area restaurants I’ve found yet. Next time you’re wondering where to go to eat in Syracuse or the surrounding area, do check out this site. It might just save you from the bad burger blues. Most of the restaurant entries come with pdf’s or links to menus.

For no extra charge, I wanted to also share a website that has been very informative for me lately: The World’s Healthiest Foods. With no commercial influence, the foundation offers relatively unbiased advice on nutrition and health. Wondering why avocado is just so darn good for you? This website will tell you more than you’ll ever need to know about any healthy food. Best of all, the foods they feature are all whole, “real” foods. From their website, they seek to “offer the latest scientific information about the benefits of the World’s Healthiest Foods and the specific nutrients they provide… we offer practical, simple and affordable ways to enjoy them that fit your individual lifestyle.”

That’s all folks. Hope I’ve been of some service, whether you’re a Central New Yorker or a health nut. Or both. Like me. For now anyway.