Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler - Day One

For as long as I can remember, Justin and I have talked about visiting New Orleans. We talk quite a bit about the places we'd like to travel together, but for the most part, it's all just dreaming and hoping for as long as we're working our current not-particularly-lucrative jobs. We talk about experiencing exotic locales all over the world together, and exploring places closer to home as well. New Orleans, however, has always been on the table. For one, Justin likes it there -- he went a couple years ago for a friend's wedding and enjoyed enough to want to go back. Furthermore, I hadn't been there since I was a very small child and my mother and grandparents took me there on a trip that I can't begin to remember.

If you recall, last year I even signed us up for a New Orleans-themed cooking class as a surprise for Justin, because our hypothetical trip was so dear to our hearts, and at the time, there was no way we could afford to go. Things changed, however, in November, when my dad discovered that he had a massive surplus of frequent flyer miles that were about to expire. Being the sort of person who likes to delegate his menial chores to others, Dad told me to figure out how to dispose of his miles. Suddenly, a free flight to the Big Easy was in the cards.

I booked it with an eye towards taking a romantic getaway over Valentine's Day, and as it turns out, Dad has a client with connections at the very elegant, exceptionally well-located Roosevelt Hotel in the city who was able to help us get a special deal on a room that would otherwise be well outside our meager means. All thanks to Dad's generosity, we were well on our way.

Since American's frequent flyer program restricts your flight options in exchange for giving you free airfare, we were stuck with a 7:30 am flight. When we got to the airport, we discovered that that our departure time had been changed without us knowing, and it was actually leaving at 6:30. Thankfully, I manage my travel-related anxiety by getting to the airport ludicrously early, so we still had sufficient time to get through security and hike across the never-ending expanse that is O'Hare in time to board our flight.

We arrived on the day of Barkus, the canine Mardi Gras parade that spoofs the name of the super-krewe known as Bacchus. As a result, the French Quarter was swarming with dogs in cute costumes and their fair share of beads.

Justin's friend, Stephen, was kind enough to fetch us from the airport at the ungodly hour at which we arrived, and he and his wife took us out to brunch at Elizabeth's, a quirky neighborhood restaurant popular with locals for its incredible brunch menu. The two college buddies were able to catch up over such delicacies as praline bacon, but our four in the morning alarm was having a marked effect on me, and I was fading fast. After brunch, Stephen and his wife dropped us off at the hotel so we could check in and take a much-needed nap. 

Mardi Gras beads adorning a doorway in the French Quarter.

Feeling better-rested, we strolled over to the French Quarter, a short distance from our hotel, and meandered around. Since we had been so busy with our move in the weeks leading up to our trip, I had done a completely uncharacteristic lack of planning for our time in New Orleans. As Dad will attest, I usually go into my vacations with a rigorous schedule of sight-seeing in mind, determined not to miss any opportunity to see everything of interest. However, with this trip, I merely had a vague goal of seeing some of the city's scenic cemeteries, and eating delicious food. Neither would be difficult to accomplish given the abundance of riches in both departments, but as a result, we spent a lot more time wandering around and soaking in the local atmosphere than I usually do when I'm out of town.

On the recommendation of the foodie blogosphere (basically the only research I did for the trip before we left), we stopped for a snack at Meltdown, a popsicle shop with unique and truly magnificent offerings. Justin sampled their Mexican chocolate ice pop, and, predictably, I went with salted caramel and it blew my mind. Originally, Justin and I had planned to split our popsicles so we could each have some of both, but as soon as I tasted mine, all plans for sharing went right out the window. Come summer, I will be trying to recreate that frozen delight, I promise you.

We spent our afternoon wandering through the faded splendor of the French Quarter, taking in the wrought-iron balconies, sprawling potted plants, peeling paint, and crumbling plaster. Much of the appeal of the neighborhood is in its elegant dilapidation, and I found myself wondering if people ever make the effort to restore things to a state of newness, or if they try to keep everything in a state of charming disrepair on purpose.

For dinner, we stopped at Cafe Maspero, a restaurant located on the tourist-centric Decatur Street not far from Jackson Square. The guidebook recommended it on the basis of having cheap and plentiful food, and while it wasn't the most delicious meal I've ever had, the heaps of fried shrimp and jambalaya fortified us after a long day.

Since partying and boozing it up isn't really our style, we decided to turn in early for the night, but not before walking back to our hotel along Bourbon Street to take in the debauchery. We did not partake, but we observed the seemingly endless procession of strip clubs, sex shops, and bars serving frighteningly large portions of alcohol being consumed in the streets by an interesting mix of young revelers and couples pushing strollers. It was still early, but it's disconcerting to see people toting babies around while sipping from a super-sized daiquiri. Even if it wasn't our scene, Bourbon Street is not a sight to be missed...

In My Room...

In preparation for our impending departure for New Orleans tomorrow, I was forced to dig deep to find the motivation to finish unpacking the boxes in our bedroom. Somewhere in them was not only the backpack that Justin wanted to take as his carry-on bag for the trip, but also my Valentine's Day card for him, which I carefully selected ages ago. Sure, I could have purchased a last-minute back-up card, but it was really in my best interest to go through the boxes anyway.

These glasses are dead-ringers for the ones Justin and I actually wear. 

Now I can leave tomorrow, knowing that our bedroom is completely unpacked. My goal was to treat myself to this vacation not only in honor of Valentine's Day, but also to celebrate being finished with unpacking, and we're probably about 75% finished. We still have the second bedroom to conquer, but I've come to the realization that we need more bookshelves in order to bring some semblance of order to that space. I've scouted potential locations for the extra shelves, and I'll have to start looking for something suitable when I return. I guess I know what I'll be asking for for my birthday...

Box-free is the way to be!

Let's Talk Turkey...

It feels like a huge amount of my time is taken up with meal-planning now that I'm making a conscientious effort to prepare dishes that both utilize cost-effective ingredients and the items I already have on hand. So far, I'm enjoying it, but it's definitely an adjustment compared to the more spontaneous attitude I used to take. This week, for example, I actually drew up a table of ingredients in the fridge that need to be used before we leave this weekend for five days, and came up with a strategy for how everything would get used. The leftover chipotle chilies from last week's chicken tacos? They'd go into mashed sweet potatoes that I had originally purchased to try out as an unconventional pizza topping, but wouldn't have time to get around to before we leave.

Ground turkey was on sale this week, so I decided to dust off my much beloved, albeit underutilized turkey burger recipe in order to use up some celery that was starting to wilt. The leftover buns from the turkey burgers will get turned into garlic bread later this week, to accompany some refrigerated ravioli that I was able to find a deal on. Very little goes into my refrigerator these days without a plan.

The meal we ended up with was a delicious, quick mid-week dinner. Usually, I'm drawn to elaborate, complicated recipes that don't translate well to workday dining, but with Justin's help and a recipe from (I'm embarrassed to admit this, but she does have some good ideas on occasion) Rachel Ray, we had dinner on the table in under an hour.

I particularly liked the technique for making the mashed sweet potatoes, which came from Alton Brown. Instead of boiling, Alton recommends steaming root vegetables (and that goes for potatoes too) before mashing them, because they cook faster and absorb less excess water. The chipotle added a smoky, spicy note that Justin really enjoyed, so I think this side dish will definitely be entering regular rotation around here, especially in light of my recently discovered fondness for sweet potatoes. I kind of want to eat them all the time now...

Cranberry Bog Turkey Burgers

adapted from Rachel Ray

1 1/4 lb ground turkey

1 small red apple, finely chopped

1/2 white onion, finely chopped

1 rib celery, finely chopped

seasoned salt, to taste

dash of Worcheshire sauce

Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl and mix by hand until homogenous. Shape into four equal-size patties. Spray a grill pan or large skillet with Pam and place over medium-high heat. Cook the patties 5-6 minutes per side until completely cooked through. Serve on toasted hamburger buns with cranberry mustard and provolone cheese. 

Chipotle Mashed Sweet Potatoes

adapted from Alton Brown

2 large sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 chipotle chili, finely chopped

1 teaspoon adobo sauce from canned chipotles

1/2 teaspoon salt

Put cubed sweet potatoes in a steamer basket and place over a pot of simmering water that is no closer than two inches from the bottom of the basket. Allow to steam for approximately 20 minutes, or until sweet potatoes are fork tender. Add butter to sweet potatoes and mash with a potato masher. Add chili, sauce, and salt, and continue mashing to combine. Serve immediately.

The Frugal Gourmet...

In my bid to cook with an eye towards grocery store sales, I'm also making an effort to be less wasteful of food. Food waste is rampant in the United States, with estimates ranging from 25-50% of available food resources going to waste, and up until now, I have been disposing of my share of food. I would buy things like celery, which the grocery store forces you into buying in packages far larger than I would need, and end up throwing away the majority of it after using one or two stalks. I would separate eggs for a baking project and forget to use whatever part I had leftover before they went bad. Odds and ends of cheese would grow mold in forgotten corners of my refrigerator, only to be discovered months later.

With my new thrift-driven mindset, I'm trying to be more conscientious about using up food while it's still at optimum freshness. I made a fritatta this morning for breakfast using leftover broccoli from a dinner we had early last week and some egg whites leftover from my pie of shame debacle. It was easily the tastiest meal I've ever constructed from leftovers, which is an encouraging sign of my evolution as a cook. Usually, I don't fare very well without a recipe, but improvisation worked out for me on this occasion.

Tonight, I made us dinner using almost entirely ingredients we already had in the pantry. Justin accompanied his mom to Costco a few weeks back and brought us back an eight-pack of canned black beans that joined several cans I already had on hand. To clear out some of the surplus, I decided to make a black bean soup that I'd spotted a while back on Smitten Kitchen that also utilized canned pumpkin. As it turns out, I have several cans of pumpkin languishing in my cabinets that never got turned into pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, and I figured it was time to be using them up, as they had technically passed their expiration dates several months ago. The only thing I had to buy from the store was a package of cooked ham, which I was able to find on sale, and use a coupon for. Overall, I was pretty pleased with myself for my frugality.

I was also pretty pleased with the meal I was able to produce, as was Justin. The soup turned out hearty and very filling, and was excellent with a crumble of the queso fresco we had leftover from last week's tacos, though Justin opted to go with a garnish of sour cream and pepitas (also a leftover that has been haunting my refrigerator since Christmas, when I used them to make Mole Biscotti.) This is a dish we'll definitely be revisiting, even after we burn our way through all those cans of surplus food languishing in the pantry. 

Black Bean Pumpkin Soup

adapted from Smitten Kitchen

3 15 oz. cans of black beans, drained and rinsed

1 c. canned crushed tomatoes

1 1/4 c. onion, chopped

1/2 c. shallot, minced

4 garlic cloves, minced

1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons ground cumin

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1/2 stick unsalted butter

4 c. beef broth

1/2 c. water

1 15 oz. can pumpkin puree 

8 oz. cooked ham, cut into 1/8 inch dice

3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

In a food processor, coarsely puree the tomatoes and black beans. 

In a large pot, saute the onions, shallots, garlic, cumin salt, and pepper in butter over moderate heat. When onions have softened, stir in bean puree. Stir in broth, pumpkin, and water and simmer, uncovered, about 25-30 minutes, until thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. 

Just before serving, add ham and vinegar and simmer until just heated through. Season with salt and pepper to taste. 

Serve with your garnish of choice.

It's Getting Better All The Time...

After a hard push during the week, we've successfully managed to finish unpacking in the kitchen/living/dining room. The only boxes left in there hold the light fixtures that we're having installed throughout the condo (can lights aside, the existing fixtures are a motley assortment of hideous, non-functional, and cheap) and a few decorative items that will be hung on the walls. Both Justin and Mom are currently reluctant to hang anything on the pristine walls after they worked so hard to repair and paint them. They have a point, but I'm still eager to see my art collection go up on the walls. 

The primary space in our house is starting to look like a real home, not like some model dwelling. Check it out:

Can you spot Justin's Megazord from Power Rangers? The first time I ever saw it, I knew exactly what it was (I used to be a fan back in the day), and thought it was cool. At that moment, Justin knew he had found a good thing with me. Now Megazord has a place of honor in the home we share together.

We're also down to four boxes in the bedroom, consisting mostly of my out-of-season clothes, which I still haven't the faintest idea what I'll do with. Our closet is bursting at the seams as it is! I might have to invest in some Rubbermaid boxes and store them when they're not in use. Still, losing closet space is a small price to pay to be able to share a space with the man I love.

The only room that's still a disaster area is the second bedroom. Mom and Justin aren't finished painting around the window in there, so we haven't been able to start putting things on the bookcases underneath the window. As a result, books are piled up all over the room, on every conceivable surface. It's not pretty. 

Still, I'm very proud of the progress we've made. Our space is livable, and getting more attractive with every passing day. The end of this long process is in sight, and I couldn't be more relieved. Stay tuned for more photos as we finish the remaining rooms...

Strange Fruit...

I'm always on the lookout for different and unusual recipes for my baking projects. Even if it's not particularly something I'm interested in eating, I'll make something for the novelty value of the recipe, or the chance to try my hand at a new skill. If I made things solely because I was craving them, my baking repertoire would be much smaller, and I would gain approximately a million pounds. Things are better this way.

So when I stumbled across a recipe for a Shaker lemon pie made with Meyer lemons, I was intrigued on three fronts: A) I've never had a Meyer lemon, since they're rare and their growing season is short; B) Justin likes lemon desserts even if I don't (recall, if you will, his birthday cake last October); and C) I'd never heard of a Shaker lemon pie, and I was fascinated by the idea of putting whole sliced lemons into a pie, instead of a lemon curd-like filling. The Shakers, who believed in thrift and not wasting anything, developed this pie recipe to utilize all parts of the lemon. I wasn't sure if such a thing would work, but when I mentioned this crazy new recipe I'd found to my coworker Lydia, who also enjoys baking, she ensured me that Shaker lemon pies are indeed delicious, and that her family has been making them for years. Based on her recommendation, I decided to give it a go.

I managed to track down some Meyer lemons at Whole Foods, as my local grocery store, unsurprisingly, didn't carry them. Meyer lemons are believed to be a hybrid of regular lemons and mandarin oranges, giving them a sweeter, more floral flavor than a regular lemon, as well as a thinner, more orange-colored skin. They became popular in the U.S. in the early 20th century, but nearly all existing plants were destroyed in the 1940s when they were discovered to be asymptomatic carriers of a disease that threatened to wipe out the entire American citrus crop. After years of experimenting, scientists finally developed a safe variety for cultivation, but they're still rare compared to regular lemons. 

With my exotic citrus in tow, and all of my kitchen supplies recently unpacked, I was all set to conquer my first baking project in my new kitchen. Aside from not reading the recipe very carefully, which resulted in some unfortunate timing issues (like preparing and chilling the crust, only to learn that the lemons for the filling had to macerate for two additional hours), the recipe was as simple to make as had been promised to me. I experimented with the much-lauded Cook's Illustrated pie crust recipe, which I had attempted to make last time, and I am pleased to report that it was my best pie crust to date. It was flaky, buttery perfection, and it even looked the best, because I finally borrowed a standard-size pie plate from my mom after figuring out that I never had enough overhang to make a decorative edge on my pies because my pie plate was one inch larger than average. 

Unfortunately, it turned out that my heavenly crust encased one of the most awful products to ever exit my kitchen. Seriously, this pie was foul. It tasted like nothing but bitter lemon rinds to me. Even Justin, lover of all things lemon, could only muster the following praise: "The crust is really good." At least he ate his whole piece, whereas I took about two bites of the filling before scraping the rest out and eating the crust plain. I invited Lisa over to try it, since she's the other great lemon-lover in my life, for a third opinion, and while she seemed to like it better than either Justin or I, she agreed with my assessment that it would probably have been better if I had zested the lemons, removed the pith, then used the interior of the fruits.

Shortly after she left, we pried the top crust off the pie, and put the rest of it down the garbage disposal. It was that bad. I didn't even want to take the leftovers to work to dispose of them, as I didn't want that disaster sullying my baking reputation around the office. Nobody is perfect, but this was probably the worst dessert I've ever made. At least I can take solace in the fact that I've now found a winning pie crust recipe, and I can stop experimenting on that front, but memories of this miserable lemon pie will haunt my dreams. I won't bother giving you the recipe, as I firmly believe it should die a fiery death, but I will share the recipe I used for the crust, because it was the only good thing to come out of this tragedy. Just be sure to use it with a better filling, okay?

Foolproof Pie Dough

adapted from Cook's Illustrated

12.5 oz. unbleached all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon table salt

2 tablespoons sugar

12 tablespoons (1 1/2 sticks) very cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/4 cubes

1/4 c. very cold shortening, cut into 4 pieces

1/4 c. very cold lard, cut into 4 pieces

1/4 c. very cold vodka

1/4 c. very cold water

1. Combine flour, salt, and sugar in a food processor, and pulse to combine. Sprinkle the butter, shortening, and lard evenly over the flour mixture, and process until fats are in pea-size chunks, four to seven pulses. Empty mixture into a medium-size bowl.

2. Sprinkle water and vodka over mixture. With a rubber spatula, use a folding motion to mix, pressing down on the dough, until dough is slightly tacky and sticks together. Divide dough into two even balls and flatten into 4-inch disks. Wrap each disk in plastic wrap and refrigerate at least an hour before using.

Get Into The Groove...

Remember how I resolved to do more cooking at home this year? The time has come, my friends. I spent all weekend with the singular goal of unpacking enough dishes, utensils, and food to serve a home-cooked meal on legitimate plates on Sunday night, and with that accomplished, I was able to tackle my first new recipe of 2012 tonight: Chicken Tinga Tacos. I spotted this recipe during the lead-up to the move, when I was reviewing all of my old cooking magazines and saving the interesting recipes to Pinterest so I could dispose of them and avoid schlepping all that heavy paper to my new place. 

This recipe for tinga, a Mexican dish consisting of meat (in this case chicken) stewed in a chipotle-flavored sauce, caught my attention because it said it could be prepared in a slow cooker, though the recipe itself called for braising the meat. Now that my commute has gotten much longer, the idea of having dinner waiting for me when I get home has become exponentially more appealing, and this recipe was devoid of any of the canned cream-of-something soups that dominate a great many slow-cooker recipes. I figured I'd try my hand at deducing some slow-cooker directions and see what happened.

I came around to this recipe sooner rather than later (I pinned over a hundred recipes to my savory dishes inspiration board during my magazine purge) because I spotted chicken thighs on sale at Jewel for 99 cents a pound this week, and now that we're both paying for our lodgings instead of living with our parents for free, I'm trying to be more conscientious about planning my meals around what's available on sale. Previously, I would buy the ingredients for whatever dish caught my fancy at the moment, regardless of price, but now it's time to get budget conscious!

Even though I had to invent the process for myself, I think the meal turned out fairly successfully. I probably could have made things even easier on myself by just dumping all the ingredients into the crockpot the morning I made it (there certainly would have been fewer dishes to wash), but I ended up preparing the sauce the night before because I wasn't sure if it would taste the same. Also, since skinless, bone-in chicken thighs don't exist at the grocery store, I had to buy the skin-on variety and remove it myself. Let's just say my butchering skills could use some work, as that task took me far longer than anticipated in the morning. In the future, I'll be doing all the prep work in advance.

I will be making this recipe again, to be sure. The kitchen smelled heavenly when I got home from work, and more importantly, Justin loved this dish. I think it could use a little bit of extra acidity, for balance, so I altered the ingredient list below to reflect that by adding some vinegar. We resolved the problem at the time by adding some vinegary hot sauce to the tacos, along with a squeeze of lime, which made them much tastier, in my opinion.

Plus, there were plenty of leftovers, so we'll be able to have these for dinner again later in the week, which is always a plus both when it comes to economizing and time management. I think the meat would be equally good folded into a quesadilla, or strewn on top of a Mexican-themed salad, if you don't want to eat the same exact meal more than once in one week.

Chicken Tinga Tacos

adapted from Food and Wine

1 large onion, thinly sliced

3 large garlic cloves, minced

1 28-oz can of crushed tomatoes

2 canned chipotles in adobo sauce, chopped

1 c. chicken broth

2 1/2 pounds skinless chicken thighs, bone-in

1 tablespoon white vinegar

flour tortillas

scallions and crumbled cotija cheese, for garnish

1. Heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in a large saute pan over medium-high heat. Add the onions and cook until softened and slightly brown, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 2 minutes more, until fragrant. Add the tomatoes, chipotles, and chicken broth and simmer over low heat until thickened.

2. Add sauce, vinegar, and chicken to the crock pot. Cook on low for 6-8 hours. Remove meat from bones, shred into bite-size pieces, and serve with warm tortillas and garnishes.