Zucchini (Bread)

Yet again, it's been a long time. Three things have made me want to attempt to get into this again. The first was a friend who expressed her disappointment with me and chided me for my blog neglect. The second was a comment left here on my brown bread post. I have no idea who Alex is, or how he came across this deserted blog, but it was appreciated. I have not written to tell him (possibly her I suppose) that because I like that I have no idea who it is.
Finally, I have the ultimate example of my enthusiastic ineptitude in the kitchen. This summer's attempt at zucchini bread.
Wait, what? That's so easy, it's just a quick bread? That's great that your seven year old can whip one up in an afternoon? Well bully for her. (I can drink six beers, go to bed at 4 AM and wake up at 8 feeling fine. Can she do that? Cause I did it today. No naps, bitch!)
I would like to clarify that I cannot recall ever making a quick bread before. But, like you said, it's so easy, right?
I found a reciepe (that I will not link to so as not to defile the individual's recipe, which I am sure is superb in able hands) that sounded interesting. It called for basil in the zucchini bread, which sounded delicious and unusual. Because if I am going to try something, it might as well be as unusual and not something that's been tested out time and time again. Who needs that when you're a person who can barely cook let alone bake?
Here it is:
Looks a bit moist, right? I thought so too, only that's totally not what the damned toothpick told me the third time it came out clean with the cook himself looking on!
Did the kitchen smell fantastic? You know it did! Did the top look golden with inviting ridges beaconing a taste? Hell, yeah! Did I even wait for it to cool? Amen! Did I begin to worry as it began to compress as it cooled? Absolutely! Did I only refrain from touching it for the next half an hour due to the occasional encouraging reprimand that it would be fine if I just left it alone by the cook? That's the gospel truth!
Pre-toasting:

What you don't like your quick bread glistening?
But how did it taste? That is the most important thing. It was good. Definitely unusual. I did like it, the basil taste was strong, and if you toasted it and slathered it with butter it was delicious. Here's what that looked like after being toasted and cloaked in butter:
Mmmmmmmm! Ok, the butter may have added to the gloss factor, but gravity don't lie. It was moist and I can't cook zucchini bread.
I possibly put a little more shredded zucchini than the recipe called for, maybe. There is a chance that may or may not have occurred. I mean it's not like baking's a science or anything, right? I mean what are you supposed to do with an extra half coup of shredded zucchini?
And you can shut the hell up about my floor. It' s been cleaned twice since then.

The Beginning of a Busy Boozy Belly-full of the Tail-end of June

The end of June marks the cook's birthday, and this year the celebrating began for me with my oldest and closest friend, MJ, finally came out for a visit. I have been living in Chico for nearly six years and it was the first time she had ever been out to see me. She finally arrived on Friday the 15th. That night we went bar hopping and ended the night with me sliding off the bar stool over and over while we talked to some friends. Her parting words were, "Nice to meet you. We're going home to fight!" Which is what happened and how I got my newest bruise. But that's how we've always done and why we're each other's oldest and closest friend.
Food related highlights of the trip:
Earlier that same night we were at the only hotel bar in downtown. It fancies itself a classy joint, but it's contrived and full of business types and apparently lots of dentists from Sacramento who like to tell a member of the cook's band who works as manager there what he is doing wrong and how they would run the place . . . The developer/owner of the hotel was there with his wife. He went to do some chatworking in the empty restaurant and his wife was holding down their four seats at the bar while trying to mingle with the "arty" jazz musicians that had just finished a set. Soon she wasn't talking to anybody but standing close to MJ & I, at which point MJ snarked something to the effect of, "You know, they have a fairly adequate offering of scotch; but if they wanted a truly good one they ought to have a this and a that. And I find it odd that they don't have one that's at least X amount of years old . . . " At which point the woman walked away. And that is why she is my oldest and closest friend.
We also took a trip down to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. While we didn't go to the restaurant there, which I have heard is delicious, we did manage to have breakfast at Cliff House in San Francisco the next day after a nice walk down to seal rock which was full of sea lions (?). We warmed up with coffee after being in the wet, salty bay air which was only topped by fresh, hot pop-overs. Which we topped with butter and marmalade and ate while pelicans sailed by the window. The veggie scramble, fresh fruit and potatoes were also delicious, and we all left completely full and of need of another walk before we got back into the rental car for what would be an unbearably frustrating, anxious, tense, beautiful and long ride back to Chico. Good thing we're such close and old friends.
Mainly her visit was hanging out, swimming in the creek, drinking lots of beer along with a lot of talking and giving each other a lot of shit.

Mice & Men = Nature Wins

Today at work a co-worker has summoned me to look out the window and admire the little mice she and two other smoking co-workers had just saved form a sure drowning. We had just had a fierce thunderstorm roll through (which happens to be quite unusual for these here parts) and there were plenty of puddles for worms, mice and whatever else little creatures to fall victim to. My friend was so excited for me to look at the little topos she had just spared from certain death, as I am the animal lover of the office. I followed her to the window (which we are both tall enough so that we have to stand on our toes to peer through) and she said, "See, Jess, it's right there where that . . blue jay . . . is . . uh. Oh, God. Never mind, don't look, Jess."
So I didn't.
She was bummed. She's also giving up all caffeine so she was already a bit depressed to begin with, she was close to crying. But I saw the great irony in this turn of events. Sure it was sad, but it was also nature's way of saying "Step off, bitch, and let me do my thing." Also, at least now the mice were now going straight back into the food chain. Hopefully a nice alley cat will eat that blue jay tonight and the cycle can continue onward.

Bloated Brown Bread, Baked Beans & Beer Belly Ache

Ah, Patriots Day. Belatedly observed in the north state last Thursday night by my friend from Boston, myself and the cook. Nothing fancy, just a can of baked beans heated on the stove along with vegetarian bratwurst and of course, brown bread baked fresh from the can in the broiler. Oh, and some beer and a green salad.
My belly has woken up in better moods, but it was well worth it. Next year we're going to do Patriots Day big and correct. This year we celebrated it a week and a half late. Next year a day early, on a Sunday, with a back yard party and who know what else, a mini marathon - 26 times around the block, a row of toasters at the ready for slices of brown bread, Hoodsies for desert?! If I could only find a way to ship Hoodsies . . .

Also, school will be over soon and I will try to get into this for honest. I keep thinking about doing it, but I guess the lone April post speaks for itself. For instance, last week I made a delicious asparagus and cilantro soup. I got the recipe from Chow.com and only had half of the asparagus called for. Which worked out well, because apparently the cook is now claiming he finds thick asparagus soup too asparagusy. That's what I thought too, but I didn't say anything. Either way it was superb. Not only that but I marinated tofu with tamari, some sesame salad dressing and a touch of maple syrup. I then fried it in our little nonstick pan in just the marinate till it got a bit puffy and caramelized. Then I put those tasty little cubes on top f shredded lettuce, carrot and red cabbage which i put a drizzle of the salad dressing on. It was great, of course my camera was out of batteries, but no big deal.
Last night we made the soup again. Only this time it was made with utter hatred instead of love and care. We fought and yelled and he got a nasty cut (on a glass he was washing that I won't even go into the ridiculous of and why it made me sad). Guess how it tasted. Salty and bad.
So that's how it goes.

The Can't

Finally! My first official "Can't" entry. This happened two weeks ago on a sunday evening. It sent me into a stress filled-freak out-tailspin and what was supposed to be a lovely diner and lazy sunday evening was quite the opposite.
Doesn't it look appetizing?
I burned the rice. I decided to not use the rice cooker and instead, for my batch of Cilantro Lime Rice from the Whole Foods Market Cookbook, i followed the recipe. Bad decision. I'm not sure when I last cooked rice in a pan. We have a rice cooker, which is a fantastic machine. I do not know why I thought my my two hands could do better or even as good as sophisticated Japanese fuzzy logic technology. Like I said, it was a bad decision.
Not only was the rice burned but it wasn't even fully cooked. Meanwhile I had heaps of chopped cilantro and spinach from the farmer's market waiting and I had to use it, so I salvaged what I could of the rice and mixed it all together. But not before a lot of yelling, mostly sharp obscenities, that were a cry for help which was not coming from the cook. The cook did talk me down a bit but only after we argued and got each other frustrated and I stormed around the kitchen.
The original menu for the evening was going to be the cilantro lime rice & some tofu cooked in the same manner as the previous post, only with pesto we had also bought at the farmers market. It is a cilantro pesto and has a vibrant garlic bite to it. It is made locally by Cal's Tofu and is amazing. So amazing that it made this horrid meal edible.
The cook was nice "It's not bad, Jess. Seriously, it's not." The tofu wasn't, and any bite with the pesto was good. But the rice was terrible. Even with pesto on it.
Recent events have given me a bit of perspective about what a bad decision really is. I made one on tuesday night that I don't want to go into right now. I'd like to keep it about cooking, a "can't" I can handle.

"The Can"

Here is the slaw I was planning to make with the dressing. It turned out well. Not that slaw is a particularly difficult thing to make as long as you have a decent dressing. This picture is about two weeks old now. I have since made the slaw again with a slight change to the dressing: a bit more ginger and a little more than half the original amount of sesame oil.
What I am proud of, "the can" in the picture is the tofu. I got the recipe from the April 2006 Vegetarian Times magazine. I had never cooked tofu in a cast iron skillet before, the skillet is, in fact, a fairly new acquisition. The most difficult part was letting the tofu sit untouched on one side for seven minutes, and then on the other side for five more. I do not like to leave things alone when cooking, I like to stir and disturb my food. Those first seven minutes I anticipated chiseling off the tofu with a thick, black, unbudging cake left behind.
But no! It flipped - nothing to it. Five minutes later (three of which the glaze was added to the pan) diner was served. What did the cook think?
He hummed! He hummed while he ate - the ultimate compliment.

Dressing - Take One

Monday night I knew I was coming down with something, we also had a lot of ginger to use up. We decided on something fast, easy which just so happened to also be healthy. The most obvious choice was our red lentil soup, it's super easy (broth, onions, red lentils, spices, delicious) and comes from a great cookbook, Ismail Merchant's Passionate Meals, an Indian food book which I'll maybe write about sometime, but not now. Soup was the cook's job, and he did a fine one at that. But this isn't about the cook, it's about the can't cook.
I had already chosen the Sesame-Ginger dressing from my Vegetarian Planet book (which is hit or miss - but it's usually not the book's fault). I'm not sure if I'd ever even made a dressing before. I thought it called for a good deal of dark sesame oil - 1/4 cup, but I followed the recipe - with just a touch more ginger. It was made of ginger, a little garlic, pepper, sugar, salt, apple cider vinegar all together. Then sloooowly whisking in the canola & sesame oil in order to emulsify everything together.
What a pain! It took me about 4 minutes. Four long, arm cramping minutes. But in the end, it got a "That looks great. Good job on slowly emulsifying, Jess." Of course this is before we had consumed any of it. . .
It was alright, not great and nowhere near bad; a bit too sweet and a bit too sesame-ish. Both mellowed out the next day, and was quite tasty. Cook thought it would be good in a cabbage slaw, so that's probably what's next.
Also coming up is something I've been wanting to do for a long time. Here's a hint - it's being planned around the upcoming dry periods (interpret that as you will).
And I did get sick - but not all that sick compared to other people I know around here.

The sports guy on our local news who looks like a ferrit, but acts like a jackass, drives this car. And he might measure up to five feet. We saw him on our way to our coffee spot downtown. It made me increadably happy. As the always graciously tactful lady that I am, I pointed and said "Hey, look!" I exclaimed pointing across the street, "It's the weasly sports guy on the news! The one we can't stand!"
"Oh, yah it is. And I think he heard you, Jess."

"That's ok. OH MY GOD he drives a PT Cruiser!! Heeee"

That said, his girlfriend legs do reach his nose. Lucky him I guess.

So I got a bit cocky about the whole golden omlet thing. And when the cook of the house returned I insisted that I cook breakfast. "No, no, no, you just stay in bed. I'm going to prove to you how great I am at this now. Besides you burnt the eggs you cooked last time" Of course I was only one for one, and his recent eggs failure was like one out of hundreds of sucesscess. Needless to say, it didn't go as golden as before. But they were still tasty (and better than his last eggs) so I didn't take a picture.
So instead here is my kitten, TrashBear. She had gotten fixed and hence the cone.

We have a deal at home, because I lack a certain, say - finese, in the kitchen, I do the dishes and he usually makes the meal. This is espically true for weekend breakfasts, when eggs are needed and you can take the time to sip coffee and make more than just toast with almond butter. That said, I had never made an omlet, mostly becasue I didn't have to.
This weekend I was on my own and decided I would take all of my observational learning and attempt my first omlet (I always just cop out with scrambles because I know that I can do those o.k.). So I went step by step. First, I sauteyed the onion and added the mushrooms to that when the onion had become a bit golden and translucent. When that was done I put that in a bowl in the oven to keep the mixture warm. Then on low heat I poured three eggs that had been lightly beaten into the non-stick pan. Periodically I turned and tilted the pan, I realize this is noththing new to most, but for me it was quite an accomplishment. In the end I added some goat cheese and added the onion & mushroom mixture, then folded over the egg. And viola! My first ever honest to goodness omlet! Seriously - look how golden that is. I was quite proud. Not confident - I'm not about to change the name of this blog(ish). It even tasted good.
In fact, the reason I decided to re-start this project was the omlet. I felt compelled to take pictures of the breakfast, just to prove to the regular cook of the house that I did it. Then I thought about how I had wanted to chronicle my attempts at cooking for a long time and have never gotten to it - like a number of other things (hello, backflip).
So, I did.
Ta-da.