Variety Is The Spice Of Life...

When I interviewed for my job, the CEO explained to me that his work philosophy runs something like: "If it ain't broke, break it, enjoy the mess you've made, then put things back together in the most cost-effective and efficient manner possible." When he asked me if I could get on board with that, I said yes, and gave an example in the form of my approach to cooking. Even if I have an amazing recipe for a given dish (I believe I used brownies in my response, because it was the first thing to pop into my head, even though I've never had a brownie recipe that I was really satisfied with), I am always willing to try a different recipe, because there might be a new tip, trick, technique, or ingredient that will make my food that much better. I never rest on my laurels.

Needless to say, I got the job, and I continue to refuse to leave well-enough alone in my kitchen as well. Just last night, I tested a new stir-fry recipe, despite the fact that I have an incredible recipe for a beef and snow pea stir-fry that I have happily made over and over since we discovered it last year. Good as that one was, this one called for different vegetables, and I thought it might make for a nice change of pace.

Though it featured Brussels sprouts, which are far from being one of Justin's favorites, the dish also called for chiles and carrots, which I thought might appeal to him, in light of the fact that one of his main criticisms of our existing stir-fry routine is that it would be improved by the addition of more vegetables. I wasn't crazy about the thought of chiles, even though I don't mind spicy food all that much, but I figured I could always pick them out.

In terms of effort, I think this recipe was actually slightly less work despite the need to meticulously chop more veggies since it did not require the pan-frying of any noodles. That being said, those crispy, golden brown and delicious noodles are worth every extra moment of work and make our usual stir-fry the treat that it is. This one felt dull by comparison.

Plus, I did not care for the sauce in this new version. This version features rice vinegar, which was a bit too tart my palate. Each bite did not leave me craving the next, but rather indifferent to it. I had to compel myself to finish my plate so I wouldn't be hungry again later.

Really, the best part of the meal were the Brussels sprouts, and I can think of any number of ways I would rather eat those. For now, we will most definitely be sticking with our tried-and-true stir-fry favorite, but at least I can rest assured that it is the top recipe out there. There is no room for mediocre dishes in my repertoire.

Brussels Sprout and Steak Stir-Fry

adapted from Bon Appétit

3 tablespoons oyster sauce

3 tablespoons soy sauce

2 tablespoons unseasoned rice vinegar

4 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided

1 pound Brussels sprouts, halved

8 oz. flank or skirt steak, thinly sliced against the grain

Kosher salt

4 scallions, whites chopped, greens sliced

3 garlic cloves, sliced

2 tablespoons chopped peeled ginger

2 medium carrots, peeled, thinly sliced on a diagonal

1 Fresno chile or jalapeño, sliced into rings

Steamed rice (for serving)

Whisk oyster sauce, soy sauce, vinegar, and 1/4 cup water in a small bowl; set sauce aside.

Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add brussels sprouts and cook, tossing occasionally, until golden brown, about 4 minutes. Cover and cook until crisp-tender, about 3 minutes longer. Transfer to a plate; wipe out skillet.

Season steak with salt. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in same skillet over high heat until just beginning to smoke. Add steak in a single layer; cook until browned, about 3 minutes. Turn and cook until nearly cooked through, about 30 seconds. Add to brussels sprouts.

Heat remaining 1 tablespoon oil in same skillet. Add scallion whites, garlic, and ginger and stir until fragrant, about 1 minute, adjusting heat as needed. Add carrots and chile and cook, tossing occasionally, until carrots are slightly softened, about 2 minutes.

Return brussels sprouts and steak to skillet and add reserved sauce. Cook, tossing occasionally, until sauce is thickened, about 3 minutes. Serve with steamed rice and garnish with scallion greens.

Friends With Benefits...

In recent years, I've made a surprising realization about myself. For most of my life, I considered myself to be an introvert, because I found it uncomfortable to socialize with strangers, and was never really the outgoing type. When I started living on my own, however, I discovered that I genuinely hated being alone. Growing up, my parents were always around, usually sitting in the same room of the house together. My mother always refused to let me have a television in my bedroom, for example, because she didn't want me holing up alone in there day after day. I was seldom alone in college either, with roommates and friends constantly around, and available to hang out at all hours. 

When I started living on my own, however, loneliness quickly became a fixture in my life. It was difficult to get my old suburban friends to venture into the city for a visit, and without a car, it was hard for me to make the journey north to see them. My first job was short-lived, and I found myself spending long days in my apartment, going days at a time without seeing another human being. I was miserable, and probably even a little depressed. It wasn't until I started working at the History Museum and began to make friends at work that I started feeling like my old self again.

It finally dawned on me that I must be an extrovert, and that extroversion and shyness are not necessarily mutually exclusive. I'm at my happiest when I have people around me, and I am energized by spending time with my friends. Contrast this with Justin, for example, who enjoys spending time with me, but is exhausted by spending time around large groups of people, and who needs plenty of alone time in his "man cave" to be truly at peace.

Now that I'm unemployed again, I once again find myself fighting off the effects of loneliness, as I sit alone in our apartment all day sending out resumes and applications, so I've been trying to make entertaining a priority, even though money is tight. We've been having my former coworker, Jess, and my old college friend Brad, over for game nights ever since the two of them hit it off at our Fourth of July party. Brad has an extensive collection of board and card games, and through him, we've developed an obsession with Cards Against Humanity, a card game that is similar to Apples to Apples (which I played on a near weekly basis during college), but with a raunchy, grown-up twist. It appeals to my warped sense of humor, so we've been playing it on the regular since our game night tradition started.

We had Jess and Brad over tonight, and I wanted to have a little something on hand for them to snack on while I was putting the finishing touches on dinner. Naturally, I turned to my Pinterest board, where I've saved a number of snack ideas for Justin, who always wants to eat the minute he gets home from work. Hummus is one of his go-to favorites, and although it's finally starting to grow on me a bit after living with him for about nine months now, I felt like he needed more variety in his life. 

I'd spotted a recipe for a dip made of carrots and accented with Moroccan spices a while back, and suspected that Justin would love it, given that it was supposed to be spicy, and he's a bit of a chili head when it comes to challenging himself to eat ever spicier dishes. I was drawn to it this week because carrots were on sale at Dominick's for 50 cents per pound. Since I had all the other ingredients on hand already, I could put an exotic appetizer on the table for a buck. Healthy and affordable? Sign me up!

Since Justin enjoys making his own hummus, and I was busy with some kitchen tasks of my own, I put him on carrot dip duty. The most labor intensive step involved boiling the carrots until the water evaporated and a thin layer of caramel developed on the bottom of the pan. Other than that, it was just a matter of whirring everything together in a food processor. Though I wasn't a fan, one taste had Justin completely smitten. It was also a huge hit with our guests, who were requesting the recipe right off the bat. Plus, it made a ton, so it would be a perfect dish to make if you were planning on entertaining a larger gathering just our four this evening. So, here by popular demand, is the recipe for our spicy Moroccan carrot dip:

Moroccan-Style Spicy Carrot Dip

adapted from Serious Eats

2 lbs. carrots, peeled and cut into rough chunks

1 tablespoon sugar

salt

1.5 teaspoons ras el hanout (a Moroccan seasoning blend)

2 cloves garlic, minced

1-inch piece of fresh ginger, grated on the medium holes of a box grater

2 tablespoons capers, drained

1/4 c. green olives, chopped

2 tablespoons harissa, or other spicy red pepper paste, or more to taste

1/3 c. extra-virgin olive oil

1. Place carrots in a large saucepan and cover with water by 1/2 an inch. Add sugar and 1 teaspoon salt. Bring to a boil over high heat and cook, stirring occasionally, until carrots are tender, liquid has evaporated, about 15 minutes. Continue to cook, stirring constantly, until sugar is a golden blond caramel color, about 5 minutes longer. Remove from heat and immediately add half a cup of water. Transfer carrots and caramel to the bowl of a food processor.

2. Add ras el hanout, garlic, ginger, capers, olives, and harissa. Pulse until the carrots are roughly chopped, 6 to 8 one-second pulses, scraping down the sides of the processor as necessary. With processor running, drizzle in the olive oil. Season to taste with more salt.

A Single Grain of Rice...

I have never been one of those cooks who can just toss ingredients together and come up with something delicious, let alone edible. Instead, I have a recipe for everything, even the things I make all the time, and have made for my entire cooking life. I even have recipes for my mom's chili and spaghetti sauces, despite the fact that she herself doesn't have a recipe for them and makes them from memory. I'm just too afraid that I'll forget a vital ingredient if I can't check things off a written list and everything will be ruined. 

The list of dishes that I'm willing to tackle without a recipe is startlingly short: panini sandwiches, quesadillas, and garlic fried rice. The last of these holds a special significance in my heart, because it is a "recipe" that came from my friend Katherine, who threw it together one night when we were living together in college. We rented a house with two other girlfriends on Pershing, near campus, and while the other three girls lived in bedrooms on the second floor, I inhabited the attic, which had the unusual feature of not having a door. The stairs just emerged directly into the room, and while my housemates were more or less respectful of announcing their presence before barging in on me, that didn't stop smells from wafting into my room from the kitchen on the first floor.

On the days when Jena made epic, multi-pot batches of potato curry, this was most definitely a bad thing, since the smell of curry would permeate my room for days. One night, however, I was lured downstairs by the most delicious, savory smell imaginable. Katherine was cooking, and when I inquired as to what was producing that heavenly scent, she replied that it was fried rice.

Now, up until this point, I hated fried rice. I didn't like the texture, I didn't like the melange of different flavors all jumbled up together, and I especially didn't like all the bits of egg that were usually swirled through it. (I very seldom ate eggs through my college years; I had to be in a special mood, otherwise they completely grossed me out.) Nevertheless, this particular batch smelled so good, that when Katherine offered me some, I took her up on it. 

Before I started eating, she warned me that it was garlic fried rice, and that was clearly the secret to it's alluring odor. When I took my first bite, it did, in fact, taste strongly of garlic, but not at all in an unpleasant way. In fact, I quickly went back for a larger helping after that tentative sample taste. I demanded to learn how she made it right away.

Ever since, I've been whipping up a batch of garlic fried rice whenever I had leftover rice on hand. I've come to prefer it with brown rice rather than white rice at this point, but other than that, the technique remains largely the same. Technique-wise, the only secret is mixing the rice with the raw egg before tossing it in the skillet. That way, the rice acts as a binder without creating overly assertive bits of egg in the finished product. There's never been a real recipe, other than that it always has very finely chopped carrots, about 5-7 cloves of garlic depending on the amount of rice, and soy sauce to taste. Sometimes I chop up leftover chicken and add it, or prepare a breast chicken specifically to add. I've also tossed in other leftover meat, as long as it's vaguely Asian in flavor profile. If I have them, I'll garnish with green onion.

The first time I ever made this dish for Justin, he immediately started brainstorming all the ingredients that would make this dish better: sriracha, snow peas, regular peas, tofu, bean sprouts... the list went on and on. But I was adamant; Katherine's garlic fried rice would remain as-is. The beauty of it lies in its simplicity, and the powerful memories it conjures up of sitting on the couch with my best friend, sharing food together. For me, this dish is a comfort food staple, and I'll always want to have it the way it's always been, crafted from a fond memory.

Coming Around Again...

Sometimes, I feel like I get caught in a vicious cycle in the kitchen, and not because I've gotten stuck in a rut by cooking the same dishes over and over again. No, this vicious cycle is intentionally caused at least in part by food companies who sell complimentary products but in amounts designed to leave you with leftovers. Take hot dogs, and hot dog buns -- the encased meats usually come in packages of eight, while their accompanying bread products come in packages of six. You're doomed to either have extra dogs or extra buns. Chips and salsa are also big offenders -- inevitably, I either have leftover chips or leftover salsa and keep having to buy one to use up the other. They're virtually never finished at the same time.

This time, however, I've managed to fall into a trap of my own making. When I made my blogiversary cake a couple weeks ago, I found myself in possession of unused cream cheese frosting. It was so tasty I didn't want to just throw it away, but I also love Justin too much and have too much invested in his long-term survival to let him eat the leftovers straight from the piping bag. Initially, I considered making some red-velvet cupcakes to use up the excess frosting, but my inner Wyatt couldn't make peace with the idea of putting cream cheese frosting on a red velvet cake. In our family, it's 7-minute frosting all the way, and cream cheese frosting was just too much of an abomination to consider seriously. So, I let it sit in the fridge while I pondered on it some more. (Don't worry, it has a surprisingly long shelf life.)

The answer finally came to me when I was perusing one of my most-used cookbooks, Martha Stewart's Cookies: The Very Best Treats To Bake and to Share. Deep down, I've long been harboring the aspiration of trying every recipe contained within its pages, but realistically, given my picky eating habits, it's not likely to happen. There are way too many cookies in there that employ fruits and nuts that I don't eat. However, my most recent read-through offered a bit of hope for my long-simmering project, when I discovered that my palate has in fact gotten more expansive in the last year.

I used to think that I didn't like apricot jam or cream cheese in baked goods, so I wrote off a variety of cookies from Martha's book. Then I made this year's attempt at hamantaschen, and the resultant batch of rugelach designed to rid myself of the leftover cream cheese (leftover cream cheese products seem to be a reoccurring theme in my kitchen this year), both of which contained apricot jam. I loved both recipes, and now that I've proven myself wrong, I look forward to testing a variety of new cookie recipes in the future.

This brings me to my latest discovery in Cookies: The Very Best Treats To Bake and to Share: whereas I used to think that I didn't like either carrot cake or cream cheese frosting, now that I have the incredible cream cheese frosting recipe from my blogiversary cake, I've learned to appreciate the flavor combination. Which is why a recipe for carrot cake sandwich cookies in Martha's book caught my eye. I already had all the ingredients for the cookies in the fridge, and I wouldn't even have to make any cream cheese frosting since I already had some I needed to use up. It was the perfect solution to my problem.

The cookies turned out to be delicious -- spicy from the cinnamon and ginger, toothsome from the carrots and oatmeal, but also soft and cake-like, they were almost a hybrid of a sandwich cookie and a whoopie pie. However, it turned out that I grossly overestimated how much frosting I had left, and I was only able to produce a dozen sandwich cookies using it, which left me with more than half of the cookies naked and unpaired. I ended up having to make more cream cheese frosting, of which there was naturally a surplus. Now I'm in basically the same position I was before.

Even if I didn't solve my leftovers dilemma, I was still glad I gave these carrot sandwich cookies a try. They were wildly popular with everyone I shared them with, so they'll definitely be gracing my kitchen again. I think they even have good make-ahead potential. Following my technique outlined here, you could freeze the dough a couple weeks or months in advance, make the frosting a few days in advance, and assemble them when ready to serve. They'd be perfect for serving at a party or family gathering, and I think there's a good chance that they might just make an appearance at my next cookie exchange...


Carrot Cake Sandwich Cookies
adapted from Martha Stewart

1 c. packed light-brown sugar
1 c. granulated sugar
1 c. unsalted butter, at room temperature
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 c. all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
2 c. old-fashioned rolled oats
1 1/2 c. finely grated carrots
1 c. raisins (optional -- I left them out)
1/2 recipe Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

Preheat oven to 350.
1. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together butter and both sugars until fluffy, 3-4 minutes. Add eggs and vanilla and beat on medium speed until combined.
2. In a large bowl, sift together flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and spices. Gradually add flour mixture to butter, mixing on low speed to combine. Mix in oats, carrots, and raisins, if using. Chill dough in the refrigerator at least one hour, until firm.
3. Roll tablespoons of dough into balls and place on a parchment-lined baking sheet, leaving two inches of space in between. Transfer to oven and bake until browned and crisp, about 12-15 minutes. Remove to a wire rack to cool completely.
4. Use an offset spatula to spread about 2 teaspoons of cream cheese frosting onto half the cookies, and top with a cookie of similar size and shape to form sandwiches. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to three days.

Happy Blogiversary...

Somewhere along the line, dear readers, another year has managed to go by here at "The State I Am In." I've managed to thwart serious bouts of writer's block and the impulse to chuck it all and quit blogging all together to arrive at another year of chronicling my life. This time around, I've managed to write 167 posts in 365 days, which is down just a smidge from my first year of blogging, which I attribute mostly to that spate of writer's block I had in January. Overall, I've still managed to write almost every other day, and I feel pretty good about that level of progress.

The past year has been full of big and wonderful changes in my life. I lost twenty pounds, met a wonderful guy, and fell madly in love. If the point of blogging in the first place was to force myself out of the apartment and into life in the great urban metropolis, the addition of an indulgent partner to my life has certainly helped: in the past year I saw fourteen movies, attended six theatrical productions, and went to five museum exhibits. Not bad if I do say so myself!

However, despite everything I've been up to in the second year of "The State I Am In," one thing has remained the same -- the most popular tag is still food. Apparently, 28% of my posts are about the subject, so in that spirit, I've decided to make a tradition of celebrating my blogiversary with a cake. Initially, I had planned to make Grandma Betsy's red velvet cake, due to clamoring from certain friends of mine who fondly remember the one my mom baked for my birthday back in 2008. The family recipe does put all those red velvet cupcakes from trendy bakeries to shame, but I've always been intimidated by the "seven-minute icing" with which our version is topped. Despite my recent realization that my baking skills can handle bigger challenges, I was still unsure.

Then, not unlike last year, I found myself swayed by a new recipe, this time for carrot cake. Since my blogiversary falls on Easter this year (more on that later), a carrot cake seemed somehow more appropriate, given that rabbits eat carrots, and bunnies are linked with Easter for some inexplicable reason.* Knowing that my dad is a big fan of carrot cake and that I was going to be home for Easter weekend, it also seemed like a natural time to try my hand at baking one for the first time.

However, it quickly became apparent that this was the cake that did not want to be baked. When I started gathering the ingredients, I quickly realized that my initial grocery store run had been insufficient, and I had used all my eggs for making Easter eggs last weekend with Justin. Off went my pajamas (requisite baking attire in my household), on went my shoes, and out the door to the grocery store I went. Then, once I was back, I was well into the recipe and was about to combine the wet ingredients when I discovered that my visual inspection of my bottle of vegetable oil had overestimated its contents and I was short by 1/4 cup. Thankfully, by that point, Dad had come to stay for the evening, so he was able to give me a much-appreciated ride back to the store for the missing oil.

Going into the oven, however, did not put an end to the drama, as the cake came out looking slightly over-baked around the edges, but then fell in the middle. Since the edges were too done, I doubt that under-baking was the cause of my fallen cake; I think too much moisture from the extremely fresh carrots I used was the culprit. Not feeling like grating another three cups of carrots to try again, I decided to frost the fallen cakes anyway, but despite my greatest efforts to make sure the sides of the cake were straight, by the time I was finished the now very tall cake had a decidedly Pisa-like lean to one side.

I pronounced myself finished with the frustrations this dessert had brought into my life, but it wasn't through with me yet -- when I went to pull out the pieces of wax paper I'd lain down on the cake plate to keep the frosting off of it, it pulled huge chunks of the cake with it. I mashed them back into place and tried to ice over the flaws, but I couldn't get the sides of the cake as smooth and lovely (if still crooked) as they were before. I piped some decorative dollops of frosting on the cake, which helped some, but it was nowhere close to my vision of carrot cake perfection. Clearly, the cake gods had frowned upon me in this endeavor.


I went to bed seething with cake-related rage, but when I tasted it the next day, I realized that this blogiversary carrot cake had actually been illustrative of my blogging experience, and life in general. I set out with the best of intentions, and persevered when things didn't go the way I anticipated, even when I wanted to give up. It didn't turn out as perfectly as I would have liked, nor did it live up to my expectations of what it would look like, but even with all of its flaws, it still turned out pretty great. You see, after all those small disasters, the cake was still delicious, especially the frosting, and part of the reason why I've never been particularly fond of carrot cake is because I hate cream cheese frosting. The cake, like life, had surprised me and challenged me to look at things in a new way.

Blogging may not always be fun, easy, or convenient, but I'm proud that I've maintained my commitment to it for the past two years of my life, and I feel like it's greatly improved the quality of my life as well. Here's to another 365 days of adventures, love, and random musings!


Carrot Cake
adapted from Smitten Kitchen

2 c. all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground ginger
2 c. sugar
1 1/4 c. vegetable oil
4 large eggs
3 c. finely grated, peeled carrots
1 c. chopped pecans (optional)

Preheat oven to 350.

Spray two 8- or 9-inch cake pans with Pam with Flour.

Whisk flour, baking soda, salt, and spices in a medium bowl until combined. Whisk oil and sugar in a large bowl until well blended. Whisk in eggs one at a time. Add flour mixture and stir until blended. Stir in carrots and nuts, if using. Divide the batter evenly between the two pans.

Bake 40 minutes, rotating halfway through the baking process, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool cakes in their pans on a cooling rack 15 minutes, then remove from the pans to cool completely.

Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

2 8 oz. packages cream cheese, softened
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
2 c. confectioner's sugar
1/4 c. pure maple syrup

In a stand mixer, beat all ingredients on medium until fluffy. Chill the frosting for 10-20 minutes until it has set up enough to spread smoothly.


*Wikipedia says that rabbits are a symbol of fertility, and are therefore linked with spring. Since Easter falls in the spring, the two are therefore associated. That doesn't make sense to me though; doesn't Easter celebrate the resurrection of Jesus? He rose from the dead, but wasn't reborn, so I don't understand the connection to birth and fertility. Then again, I'm probably the wrong person to ask, given that I'm not at all religious.