Sunday, May 20, 2007

How Katie saved Christmas. Er, I mean dinner.

Don't think that Rebecca's the only one around here who does any cooking! She's just the only one who does it well...

So, low on groceries and at a loss as to what to make for dinner last night, I cooked up a big pot of kasha (the traditional way, mixing it with eggs and cooking it dry before adding the water, just like my New Laurel's Kitchen tells me to). All we had in terms of produce was a sprouting sweet potato, a slightly shrivelled zuchinni, and a fair-to-middling yellow zuchinni squash with the stem end inexplicably cut off (Richard?). I didn't feel like making another boring stirfry so I grated up these three dubious specimens and mixed them in with the kasha. After letting them wilt and steam a little, I opened the lid to survey and taste my creation. The whole mess tasted like something you might cook up to feed your dog if he had a stomache ache.

So now it's about 9pm, I'm hungry, Richard's hungrier, and I have this giant pot of pet food that I don't want to eat. So I resorted to the age-old cop-out: make it delicious by frying it. I mixed in some salt, pepper, onion powder, garlic powder, oregano, and turmeric, made it into patties, dipped them in egg & milk, coated them with crushed matzoh and more chickpea flour, and fried them up in olive oil. Voila! Not quite worthy of inclusion in Lidia's Big Fat Family Table, but good enough to call it dinner. Let us rejoice.

Just another quiet Sunday around here... R's being crafty on the sewing machine we inherited from his co-worker, and I'm puttering around in my pj's. Bill gave us four of his runtiest pepper plants which we planted in our yard today... I can't imagine we'll get anywhere near the bounty that he does, but we're hoping for at least a few. Our new neighbor is now living full-time in the side of the duplex closest to us, so we keep having to remind ourselves that there's another human twenty feet away at all times. A particularly perilous situation these days, when it's still so cool that everyone has all their windows open all the time.

Hope everyone's having a good May! I'm enjoying our new shrine, and encourage everyone to take some time out of their busy schedules to bow down before it whenever the urge strikes. (Um, does encouraging people to worship false idols get me disqualified from my birthright Israel trip?)




  1. EVERYTHING is better when it is fried. ;-) I fried some green tomatoes as wellas some oreo cookies on Saturday. Mmmm.

  2. KT,
    I am glad to see a more realistic example of how most of us non-chef people deal with uninspiring / insufficient / non-delicious food ingredients. I give you an A++ for resourcefulness!

  3. oh, so you want to hear about all questionable dishes being thrown together from leftovers around here? Let's see, last up were the banana/brown rice muffins. Hey, they stick to the ribs in the morning, that's something. And briana can tell you i'm a champion of fridge cleaning disguised as cooking. mmm... old produce...

  4. That reminds me of something I read in one of the years of "Best Food Writing.:

    The Pantry Forager
    by Pete Wells
    Saturday morning, I woke up and decided not to buy any food until Monday. In warm weather this would be reasonable, because the refrigerator would be crowded with fruits and vegetables that my wife, Susan, and I had lugged home from the farmers' market. But this was January, at the front end of a searing cold snap, and the fridge, cupboards and freezer were exhibits in a museum of oddities. A cloth sack of rice. A nearly complete set of chicken giblets. Two rolls of film. Marmite. There could have been a rack of wildebeest under the ice-cube trays. Honestly, I had no idea what was in our kitchen. Cooking six meals straight without leaving home was one way of finding out....

  5. Last time rebecca said -- hmmm, cut those ugly things into one-inch cubes, then call me when you are done, and I will wreak (exercise/conjure/do) my magic on your poor examples of produce. the result will be etheril(sp?) and you will eat my elvish potion and believe that the taste is incomparable. And I did. and it was.