Actus Contritionis

Deus meus, ex toto corde poenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum, eaque detestor, quia peccando, non solum poenas a Te iuste statutas promeritus sum, sed praesertim quia offendi Te, summum bonum, ac dignum qui super omnia diligaris. Ideo firmiter propono, adiuvante gratia Tua, de cetero me non peccaturum peccandique occasiones proximas fugiturum. Amen.

Yes, Gentle Reader, I have sinned. I have sinned greatly. And now I must pay for it in this new year that's hours away. To paraphrase Lydia Grant's little speech from the opening credits of Fame (the TV series, not the movie or the recent movie remake), "You've got big thighs? You want to be lean? Well, lean costs. And right here is where you start paying...in sweat."

If you've been wondering why I haven't been updating the site much this month, allow me to explain. No, I haven't been so thoroughly swamped with holiday preparations and festivities that I just couldn't squeeze in a post or three or four. Instead, something inside my head...well, it broke, and the consequence of that break has been that my control over my eating has vanished. Foods I haven't touched or barely nibbled on on rare occasions have been going down my gullet with reckless abandon. The consequence of that loss of control is immense guilt, which then leads to even more eating and then even more guilt and so on and so forth.

Hence the act of contrition. Hence my inability to write about food, even though I have several recipes to share with you. If you're on of those lucky people for whom food doesn't have a lot of emotional baggage attached, I envy you, Gentle Reader. But if you're like me and you have food issues and eating issues and emotional issues and control issues, then perhaps you can understand what I've been going through.

But with the new year barreling our way and my thighs not looking the way I'd like them to look, despite increasing my running distance back to 12 miles three or four times a week to try to compensate for my out-of-control eating, I'm digging deep within me to find the true resolve I need to get my shit together and take off the weight I've put on and reestablish control. And to be perfectly honest, I'm afraid that I might not have that resolve.

I've said before that guilt is my primary motivator for a lot of what I do, and while it can be a great source of motivation, it can also bite you in the ass and trigger one of those awful downward spirals, such as the one I'm trying to pull myself out of. Sure, I should find another motivator, but when it's one that's been with me so long, it's damn hard to find another reason--a positive reason, even--to get me to turn things around.

So I'm going to try to let my culinary misadventures be my motivation. Instead of the gross quantity of empty calories I've been consuming, I'm going to try to focus on creating and consuming meaningful, flavorful, inspiring, explorative calories that I can then share with you. And it that doesn't work...well, Goodwill probably still has all my old fat clothes on its racks.

Happy New Year and New Decade, Gentle Reader! Let the guilt-inducing TV ads roll!

Happy Pancha Ganapati!

ॐ गम गणपतये नमः

Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha!

May all your obstacles be removed by the elephant-headed lover of sweets, Gentle Reader, and may all your faudie misadventures be tasty.

Holidays Driving You Crazy Yet?

If not, pop over to iTunes, create an account if you don't have one yet and download one of the free songs of the week--that soon-to-be Christmas classic "Must Be Santa" by none other than Bob Dylan.

Trust me, Gentle Reader, this song is guaranteed to drive you crazy. If you don't believe me, check out the video.

Sure, 'ol Bob's taken a lot of flak for this album ("He'll Sleigh You," "Horrifying, Funny" "Bob Dylan's Christmas in the Heart album is, emphatically, not only the worst Dylan album, not only one of the worst albums of the year, it's one of the worst albums of all time"), but how can you not love something that drives you bat-shit crazy within 10 seconds?

Happy holidays, Gentle Reader. Pass the valium.

I Have Great Buns

The experiment with the pitas combined with the cooler weather had us contemplating a daunting task: making our own buns. Hamburger buns, specifically, to accompany the burgers the husband was making for himself and the boy from the gift of a pound of ground chuck I gave him. Yes, I know, I'm terribly generous, Gentle Reader. But I'll let the husband tell the tale.

--The Faudie

We had crunchy coconut and lime burgers again this weekend...or, at least, I had them again--the coconut-disliking boy got a plain hamburger patty while Angela abstained from the red meat altogether. And what was so special about these burgers that warrants a post? This time, they had homemade buns!

It was Angela who suggested I try making hamburger buns. With her relative success at making pita bread fresh in my memory, I decided to give it a shot. The Bread Machine Cookbook has a recipe for hamburger buns, but we decided to adapt a healthier-sounding recipe instead.

Whole Wheat Sandwich Rolls

1 1/8 C water
2 T vegetable oil
1 T honey
1 1/2 t salt
1 C whole wheat flour
2 T wheat or oat bran
1/4 C wheat germ
2 C bread flour
1 1/2 t yeast

1. Place ingredients into bread machine in the order suggested by the machine's manufacturer.
2. Select the Dough option on the machine, then start the cycle.
3. When the cycle is complete, remove the dough from the machine.
4. Form the dough into 12 balls, make into desired shape of rolls and then let rise for 50 to 60 min. on a lightly greased baking sheet.
5. Bake in an oven preheated to 375 degrees for 20 minutes or until done.

Yield: 12 rolls

Nutritional Info
Not provided, so there's no telling what too many of these buns will do you your buns.

The Husband's Futzings
The only real change I made to the recipe was the number of rolls I prepared. Because I wanted them to be large enough to hold a hamburger patty, I made nine largish rolls instead of a dozen smaller ones.

Five of the rolls I baked on a baking stone; the others on a baking sheet. The ones on the baking sheet unfortunately got a little too hot and burned on the bottom. But other than that, they came out fine.

It ain't pretty, but it's pretty good-tasting

The bun in the above picture is actually two of the burned buns after the blackened bottoms had been cut off. Whatever works, right?

I'm wondering if Angela and I might want to invest in some stone baking tiles. I could get used to having fresh-made rolls with dinner!

Happy little buns

Recipe Revisits

I've somehow found myself with a good number of inexpensive, fresh zucchini and an abundance of dried cranberries, and I can't just let these thing sit around. One ingredient I put to use in a new recipe that's very, very similar to one I made before, and the other ingredient made for a tasty second try at a favorite dish.

Another Zucchini Stew
Waaay back in May, I whipped up a big pot of chicken, chickpea and zucchini stew and recall not being particularly enraptured with the flavors. With that tarnished memory in mind, I searched for some warm, tasty way to prepare the pair of zuccs I had in the 'fridge from Sprouts. Ziryab had a possible solution.

Mderbel qar'a (Algerian Zucchini Stew)2.25 lb. zucchini
2.25 lb. lamb shoulder, deboned and cut into six pieces
3 T butter
3 T peanut oil
1/2 C dried chickpeas, soaked and drained
4 garlic cloves, crushed
1/2 t caraway seeds
1/2 t cinnamon
1 T vinegar
Salt
Pepper

1. Cut the zucchinis in thin slices, saute them in 2 tablespoons each of oil and butter and then drain on paper towels.
   
2. In a heavy pot, melt the remaining butter and oil
   
3. Add the meat to the pot, along with the garlic, spices and a little salt.
   
4. Saute the ingredients for 5 min., then cover them with water.
   
5. Add the chickpeas.
   
6. Cover the pot and cook its contents over low heat.
   
7. Once the meat is cooked, remove it from the pot to a serving dish.
   
8. Drop the zucchini slices into the sauce.
   
9. Add the vinegar to the pot and stir.
   
10. Top the meat in the serving dish with the zucchini and sauce.

Yield: 6 servings of unspecified size

Nutritional Info
Farouk Mardam-Bey's Ziryab: Authentic Arab Cuisine is a wonderful look at dishes from the Middle East, but it's not your run-of-the-mill cookbook. Don't turn its pages look for nutritional info.

The Faudie's Futzings
I've worked once with lamb, and I have no plans to do it again. Therefore, I substituted diced chicken breast for the lamb in this recipe.

And I only used one breast since I sort of planned to halve it--I was the only one partaking of the dish that evening--but I didn't completely halve all the ingredients. For example, I used a full amount of chickpeas called for, along with the full amounts of garlic, caraway seeds and cinnamon. I started out with about half the amount of zucchini I needed for a full batch, and I think I did halve the amount of vinegar, but I can't remember for sure at the present moment. Oh well.

Oh, and don't even think for once, Gentle Reader, that I used peanut oil and butter. I used a wee bit of olive oil for both the zucchini slices and the chicken.

Since I was working with chicken, which cooks a lot faster than lamb, this dish didn't take much time to prepare. That said, I did let the pot of goodness stew on low heat for some time to hopefully ensure the water I added (per step 4) was flavorful, not dull.

Did that stewing time yield a flavorful liquid? I'm not sure if that's what did the trick or if using the full amount of spices accomplished the task, but I can assure you, Gentle Reader, that both the liquid and the meat were resplendent with the sweetness of cinnamon and savoriness of garlic.
This stew was far more satisfying than the one I'd made months ago.

Still Keen on Quinoa
I was never fully satisfied with the quinoa pilaf with cranberries I made at the end of August. The dish was good--there's no disputing that--but it didn't fully capture the flavor of the Whole Paycheck quinoa salad I was attempting to recreate. As I had dried cranberries coming out my ears, I was eager to try again with this dish and see if a second attempt would yield better results.

Before my second attempt, I did a bit more recipe scouting online and contemplated a few recipes I didn't recall seeing before my first outing with quinoa. In my final search for recipe fodder, I discovered one from Whole Paycheck that I think might be the same quinoa salad I purchased at the flagship store. I melded it with one or two others I found, made an offering to the FSM and got to work.

Cranberry Quinoa Salad1 C quinoa
2 C water
4 T honey, divided
1 T lemongrass, minced
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
1 1/2 t serrano peppers, seeded and very finely chopped
1 1/2 C whole cranberries
4 T fresh lime juice
1 T finely chopped fresh mint
1 T finely chopped fresh cilantro
1/4 C finely chopped red onion
Salt to taste

1. Rinse the quinoa several times.
   
2. Bring the water and quinoa to a boil, and simmer 20 min. or until all the liquid is absorbed.
   
3. Meanwhile, combine 2 tablespoons of honey with the lemongrass, garlic and peppers in a small bowl.
   
4. When the quinoa is cooked, stir in the honey mixture.
   
5. In a food processor or blender, chop the cranberries with the remaining 2 tablespoons of honey and lime juice, then stir this mixture into the quinoa.
   
6. Add the mint, cilantro, red onion and salt to the quinoa, tossing to combine.
   
7. Chill the salad until ready to serve it.

Yield: 4 servings
Serving size: About 9 oz.

Nutritional Info
Calories: 250
Fat: 2.5 g
Protein: 7 g
Carbs: 52 g
Fiber: 5 g
Na: 300 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
Even though I strongly suspected this recipe is for the salad I'd bought and loved from Whole Paycheck, I futzed with it. I can't help myself, Gentle Reader. Futzing defines who I am.

• I used approximately 2 tablespoons of honey since I was working with dried cranberries and hence didn't need 2 tablespoons for the chopped whole cranberries.
  
• Speaking of dried cranberries, I used two handfuls of 'em. The volume conversion of whole cranberries to dried cranberries is beyond my limited mathematical means. My apologies.
  
• Since I had no lemongrass, mint or parsley and no plans to include cilantro, I chopped half of a medium red onion and one green onion to add bulk to my salad.
  
• I juiced one lime, which probably wasn't the full 4 tablespoons but was probably at least half of it. To add to the citrus fun, I zested a Valencia orange and tossed it in.

It's probably pretty hard to get a sense of the final recipe from my notes, so I'll just give it to you, Gentle Reader. Feel free to play with it and let me know how it comes out.

The Faudie's Tangy Cranberry Quinoa Salad1 C quinoa
2 C water
2 T honey
2 generous handfuls of dried sweetened cranberries
Juice of 1 lime
1/2 of medium red onion, chopped
1/4 C balsamic vinegar
1 green onion, thinly sliced
1 T or more orange zest

1. Put the quionoa (rinsing is optional, depending on your quinoa source) and the water in a large saucepan, bring it to a boil, lower the heat, cover and allow to stand until all the moisture is absorbed.
   
2. Juice the lime directly into the cooked quinoa, add the balsamic vinegar, cranberries and onions, and then stir gently to combine and coat the grains, onions and fruit.
   
3. Add the honey and orange zest, then stir gently again to combine.
   
4. Add more honey to achieve the desired level of sweetness.
   
5. Serve warm as a side dish, or chill and serve as a cold salad.

I served my quinoa warm as an accompaniment to balsamic-glazed salmon. (The quinoa-hating boys had red jasmine rice we'd bought at the local Whole Paycheck. They don't know what they're missing out on!) I apologize for not writing about the salmon recipe, but there's not too much to say about it. I was skeptical (as were some reviewers) that balsamic would be a good match with salmon, especially when paired with Dijon, but I was wrong. The glaze was quite tasty, and I saved the leftover for use with plain 'ol chicken breasts some night.

But as for my quinoa recipe, you can undoubtedly see, Gentle Reader, it's ripe for additional futzings and additions. However, I doubt I'll be doing any. The flavor of my tangy cranberry quinoa salad was just right for me, so this Goldilocks is satisfied.

Winter Picnic

At our most recent dining experience at Alborz, I ate for the first time (at least to my knowledge) chicken salad. Yeah, can you believe that, Gentle Reader? For someone who grew up eating a lot of what most folks would call tuna salad--canned tuna mixed with Miracle Whip and sweet relish--chicken salad shouldn't be a foreign thing, but it was for me. And I lost my chicken salad innocence not to any run of the mill chicken salad. No, my first chicken salad was the exotic olivieh, described on its card on the buffet as a Persian chicken salad with potatoes, pickles, eggs, olives and sweet peas. I'm not a fan of olives, but this salad was damned tasty.

Was I inspired to find a recipe for it and make it myself? No. But I was amenable to trying a recipe for a turkey salad I found in the December issue of Austin Fit, the same source as the fairly successful kam kash dish I made in October. That the boy saw the recipe and thought it was something he'd like to try, I felt all the more compelled to give it a shot.

I had just one problem: I had no diced turkey and had no plans to acquire any turkey, despite the boy's ongoing hints and musings about his desire to eat a traditional holiday turkey meal. So what's a faudie to do?

Lie to her son. Big time.

Cranberry-pear Turkey Salad2 C turkey breast, diced
1/3 C dried cranberries
1/2 C bosc pears, diced
1/3 to 1/2 C cilantro, roughly chopped
4 T Dukes light mayonnaise
3 T lemon juice (1 medium lemon)
1/4 t black pepper
1/2 t lemon zest
1/2 t sea salt (fleur de sel)

1. In a small bowl, soak the cranberries in hot water for 10 min. and then drain.
   
2. In a large bowl, combine the diced turkey breast, drained cranberries and pears.
   
3. In a separate bowl, combine the cilantro, mayonnaise, lemon juice, pepper, lemon zest and salt and mix thoroughly.
   
4. Add the mayo concoction to the chicken mixture. [Yes, Gentle Reader, the recipe in the print and online edition of the magazine use chicken, not turkey. The writer and I were apparently on the same wavelength. -The Faudie]
   
5. Chill until serving time.

Yield: 2 1/2 C
Serving size: 2/3 C

Nutritional Info
Calories: 266
Fat: 8 g
Sat fat: 2 g
Protein: 33 g
Carbs: 15 g
Fiber: 2 g
Cholesterol: 81 mg
Sodium: 489 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
Well, Gentle Reader, have you guessed the big lie I told the boy?

Don't judge me too harshly, please. Turkey and chicken are both poultry, right? It's not like I was trying to pass off tofu as turkey. And a large chicken breast I already have in my freezer is easier to dice and brown than doing the same to a turkey breast I don't have. And if the boy took no notice of the switch, so much the better!

Here are some other futzings:

• I used the boy's Miracle Whip Light instead of the light mayo called for in the recipe.
  
• My dried cranberries were sweetened, but I'm not sure if I was intended to use unsweetened. I believe you can get such things--or else the one barrel of dried cranberries at Whole Paycheck was mislabeled and not properly identified as sweetened.
  
• I don't think I used quite a third cup of chopped cilantro because even to me that seemed like a helluvalotta cilantro. I can't even imagine using a half a cup of the stuff, especially with such a small amount of mayo.
  
• I'm not sure that the half of the large lemon I squeezed into the mayo concoction yielded three tablespoons, but it was probably somewhat close.
  
• I'd zested the aforementioned large lemon before halving it to juice, so I'm pretty sure I had well more than half a teaspoon of zest in the mayo combo.

And yes, I used the full amount of fleur de sel in the mayo combo. I've had that little baggie of higher-end fleur de sel in my spice cabinet for more than a year; I'd never even opened it once since its purchase at the bulk foods playland at Central Markup. I was thrilled to finally have an opportunity to use it. Did it make a flavor difference? Hell if I know!

So enamored was I with the zesty lemon flavor of the Miracle Whip-cilantro concoction that I decided to add to it by browning the diced chicken breast in a wee bit of Monini lemon-flavored olive oil. Did that result in lemon overkill? Not to my taste buds. All that lemon tartness was the right counterpoint to the sweetness that lingered in the cranberries and was hinted at in the pears.

When the husband and I sampled the finished dish, it was still fairly warm. That warmth combined with its creaminess got me thinking about that oddball creamy couscous and vegetable dish I made a while back. While I had no desire to ruin a perfectly fine batch of couscous with thick, creamy sauce again, I thought the hint of creaminess the chicken salad had would go nicely atop a bed of couscous or even quinoa--and perhaps a bed of jasmine rice for the couscous-hating boy.

Aha! Thursday night's supper was solved!

I've Got One Hand in My Pocket[bread]
But I woke up Thursday morning reconsidering that grain accompaniment. Hey, we're talking about chicken salad here. Shouldn't it be paired with a baked grain product? Don't I have four functional bread machines? Shouldn't I be able to whip up some kind of bread product that would complement the zesty-sweet flavors of the chicken salad?

With visions of Middle Eastern flavors on my mind, I whipped out my collection of bread machine cookbooks and tracked down a recipe for pitas.

Pita Bread1 1/3 C water
3 T olive oil
2 C bread flour
1 1/2 C whole wheat flour
1 1/2 T sugar
1 t salt
2 t yeast

1. Add the ingredients to the bread machine in the order recommended by its manufacturer.
   
2. Select the Dough cycle, then start the machine.
   
3. At the end of the cycle, divide the dough ball into 10 smaller balls.
   
4. Preheat a conventional oven to 500 degrees.
   
5. Flatten each ball into a disc, rolling each one into a circle of about 6".
   
6. Place the discs on a baking sheet and allow to rise for about 20 min.
   
7. Bake the discs for 8 to 10 min.

Yield: 10 pitas

Nutritional Info
This recipe is yet another in the long line of recipes we've used from Donna Rathmell German's The Bread Machine Cookbook. You should very well know by now, Gentle Reader, that she did not include nutritional info for each recipe. Bummer.

The Faudie's Futzings
I didn't change up the recipe, but I did inadvertently...alter the baking instructions. Let me attempt to explain, Gentle Reader.

I knew Thursday was going to be a screwy day, but I wanted somehow to present warm pitas come suppertime. That goal was impeded by my desire to kickbox with the husband, which takes about an hour and makes it kind of difficult to pop in and out of the kitchen to do things. If I got the pitas rising as we started kickboxing, I figured could still get the pitas baked and supper on the table and then get the boy to bed on time. Would it matter that I prepared the dough midmorning and then stuck it in the refrigerator until it was time to divide and rise? Well, we'd just have to hope for the best.

My quest to achieve the best result given the circumstances collided with one big wall: I had it in my head that the way to get the discs to rise was to put them in an oven that had been preheated to a certain temperature and then shut off, as Greg had done the two times he'd made pizza crusts from The New Best Recipe.

Heh.... Needless to say, the husband thought I was referring to the pizza crust's baking temperature, so he told me to heat the oven to 400 degrees. I even put the pizza stone in the oven, as I'd learned from an older episode of The Splendid Table featuring Shirley Corriher, author of BakeWise, The Hows and Whys of Successful Baking, that baking on baking stones was just the way to go. So when I put the pitas in the oven--half of them on a piece of parchment paper directly on the stone, the other half stayed on a second piece of parchment paper on a cookie sheet--to rise for 20 minutes, they were in a very warm oven. Where they baked prematurely...

...and looked nothing like pitas.

While the pitas were pretty pathetic to behold, they were wonderfully tasty--although they tasted nothing like pitas I've ever eaten. Our pitas tasted more like yeasty, whole wheat dinner rolls or even the Fabulous Flats whole wheat naan we buy at HEB.

Oh well. I wouldn't be The Faudie if I didn't fuck something up in my kitchen every now and then, and the FSM knows I was overdue for a fuck-up.

By the way, I did make some couscous for me to enjoy. I added some lemon zest, freshly squeezed lemon juice, a bit of lemon-flavored olive oil and a handful of dried, sweetened cranberries to it to give it some panache. The spur-of-the-moment couscous salad wasn't as good as the fabulous orange couscous salad I often make from Kim Sunée's Trail of Crumbs, but it wasn't awful either. The chicken salad atop it worked out nicely.

The Faudie, Conqueror of Eggplant

You read that right, Gentle Reader. I have conquered the eggplant.

Maybe it's just me, but there's a sort of...mystery around the eggplant. They're gorgeous to look at if you're a fan of the typical eggplant's deep purple shade, but what exactly is underneath that skin? And can it kill you if not prepared properly? After all, it's a member of the "deadly" nightshade family, so that makes a person wary of the thing.

Needless to say, the first eggplant I ever bought several weeks ago sat in the 'fridge and sat and sat and sat some more in the 'fridge while I worried about how to prepare it properly and how to recreate in my own kitchen the glory that is Alborz' vegetarian eggplant stew. After confirming that dish's name, khoresh bademjan, from the restaurant's menu, I went in search of a recipe online, for my copy of the splendid Ziryab: Authentic Arab Cuisine does not include this dish in its selection of eggplant recipes.

Here's the thing I quickly realized as I was perusing khoresh bademjan recipes online: In its authentic rendering, the stew includes meat, either lamb or beef. But the stew I enjoyed so much at Alborz was vegetarian, so I had to change my search to just "vegetarian eggplant stew" or vegetarian Persian eggplant stew" (I can't remember which I used, but I wouldn't be surprised if I used both). That change yield three really tempting dishes. How was I to decide which to use?

The choice came down to two factors: (1) Ease of preparation of the eggplant and (2) Range of required ingredients, particularly saffron. For you see, Gentle Reader, I prepared this dish on a Sunday and hadn't left myself as much time as I would have liked when I indulge in a culinary experiment. Plus I was out of saffron after the saffron chicken and rice with dates dish from late October pretty much wiped out my stash of the stuff.

Patlicanli Cive (Eggplant Stew With Rice)
1 lb. eggplant, peeled partially leaving lengthwise stripes and diced
2 medium onions, cut in thin half moons
10-12 garlic cloves, chopped finely
3 green chilies, chopped
3 tomatoes (preferably green tomatoes for a sour taste), peeled and petite diced
3 T rice
1/4 C olive oil
1 t black pepper
Salt
2-3 T chopped fresh basil or mint OR 1 T dry mint or basil

1. Heat the oil in a pot.
   
2. Add the onion and garlic, and stir for 3-4 min.
   
3. Add the chopped chilies, and stir for a couple of minutes.
   
4. Add the tomato, eggplant, black pepper and salt, then stir once and do not stir again. Otherwise, the eggplant will get mushy.
   
5. Cover and cook on medium-low heat until the vegetables get juicy in the pot.
   
6. Stir in the rice, nice and polite.
   
7. Cover and cook on low for 30-40 min.
   
8. Before serving, sprinkle with chopped basil or mint.

Nutritional Info
I first found this recipe on iFood.tv and realized it's originally from a Web site on which I'd found another of my three prime candidates, Almost Turkish Recipes. Unfortunately, neither of these sources provided nutritional information for this dish.

The Faudie's Futzings
I told you already, Gentle Reader, that I was a bit pressed for time, but I tried not to let that impact my preparation too much:

• I'm not sure if the eggplant I used weighed a pound or more. It didn't feel like it, but I didn't want to use the more recently procured eggplant along with the old one, for I was saving it for another recipe.
  
• I used canned diced tomatoes.
  
• I used canned diced green chiles.
  
• My garlic was minced and in a jar.
  
• I didn't use the full quarter-cup of olive oil called for. I probably used about 2 tablespoons, which is a lot for me.
  
• I only used one onion, but it was a fairly large one.
  
• I completely forgot to add salt when I put in a few twists of freshly ground pepper from my pepper mill.
  
• While I have dried basil and even got it out to use, I didn't in the end because that's not included in the Alborz dish I was attempting to recreate, flavorwise.
  
• The recipe doesn't specify a particular type of rice to use, so I opted for basmati.

What the recipe doesn't mention but I suppose is implicit in the preparation of any eggplant is that it should be salted and allowed to sweat for about 30 minutes beforehand to help reduce the bitterness and, if memory serves, keep it from becoming utter mush. Before embarking on the peeling 'o the eggplant, I consulted a few of my vegetarian cookbooks and Cook's Illustrated tomes for guidance and wisdom, and I seem to recall reading that letting an eggplant sweat--

and trust me, it will sweat

--allows for better frying, which is one of the "best" ways to prepare it.

Unfortunately, none of the books I browsed said anything about how to peel an eggplant. Thank the FSM for the Internet! It may be full of porn and nonsensical blather (such as this blog), but it also has some useful information.

After toweling off my sweaty eggplant, I set about dicing it. The innards were nothing at all like what I expected, which was either something akin to the hollow inside of a bell pepper or a juicy but somewhat hollow of a tomato. No, despite the hollow feel of the an eggplant, it's fairly solid but yielding, like a zucchini. Interesting!

The stew came together in a snap. I wasn't sure what to do about the step telling me to cook the ingredients until the veggies became juicy since I was using canned veggies, including their juices. I think I let the stuff cook maybe five to seven minutes before I added in the rice. And while I usually try not to disturb a pot with rice but maybe once while it's cooking so as not to screw up the rice, I checked and stirred the stew several times throughout the 30 minutes of final cooking. I broke my little rule because I was concerned the stew didn't have enough liquid for the rice to cook correctly. Oh, all that stirring did not turn my diced eggplant to mush. It stayed nice and firm. See:
Yes, the finished stew is quite gorgeous. As for the taste--it was spot on. I was so thrilled with the flavor, for I had no idea if the recipe would even yield a flavor close to the stew at Alborz.

You might be surprised to know, Gentle Reader, that the stew has a certain sweetness to it. Odd, since there are no ingredients that would bring a sweet flavor, non? I wonder if the sweetness is a byproduct of the stewing of the eggplant, or perhaps the onions caramelized while the rice cooked. I dunno. I all I do know is that I was unsuccessful in saving any of this dish for leftovers: When I went to stow away what was left in Chive the Dutchie after we'd all eaten (the boys had crouton crumbs-breaded tilapia baked in the oven, a variation on a recipe from AllRecipes.com I received via email that day), I couldn't stop myself from taking another bite...and then another bite...and then a few more bites until all the stew was gone.

Sunday Night Fish Alternative for the Boys
or
What to Do With Old Croutons

Yes, I know, Gentle Reader, I'm a terrible glutton. But the stew was just so damn tasty and warm and comforting on a hectic, rainy, chilly Sunday evening. So if you happen to have an eggplant lying around and need a nice warm-me-up meal, whip up this recipe. You too can conqueror the eggplant in a most tasty way.

Weddings--WTF?

When the husband and I married nearly 12 years ago, my desire to have "The Imperial March" played as the recessional was looked upon with much derision by certain people--and was nixed by the church in which we were married since it's not a liturgical song of a religion recognized by the Church. (Sorry, followers of obscure Star Wars-origin religions don't get the nod from the Pope.) Sure, we ended up playing it--awkwardly--as we entered at the reception, but it was just...a throwaway moment.

Nowadays, since weddings have gotten even more ridiculously out of hand than they were a dozen years ago, it seems the bride and groom go to extreme lengths to make their guests feel awkward and uncomfortable. I'm sure, Gentle Reader, you've seen or heard about the neverending wedding processional, complete with ham-handed choreography straight from a drunken frat party, accompanied by that product placement-rific tune "Forever" by that bastion of romance, Chris Brown.

While you might argue, Gentle Reader, that that particular example may not have made guests uncomfortable, this gem surely did.


Do bad reception DJs really cost that much? I it really that difficult to hook up an iPod to some speakers or put together a digital slideshow for reception entertainment? Are couples really this cheap?

Man, the dude could at least have sprung for a decent Supes costume, and not just paired a Supes t-shirt from target with some other somewhat appropriate articles of clothing he found here and there. What a cheapskate, especially consider the bride probably dropped a pretty penny of that meringuey gown of hers.

Yeah, this one's definitely going to last a lifetime.

R2-A6 in Da House!

In honor of, as he put it to his family, the husband's finally making money off Star Wars rather than spending money on it with the publication of his article on StarWars.com, I whipped up an R2 unit.

No, no, Gentle Reader, I didn't miraculously obtain a robotics engineering degree and put together an astromech droid, Martha Stewart-style, from parts I found lying around the house. Instead, I got help from Betty Crapper, a chick with a Blue Bonnet and Wilton.

No, Wilton. Not Wilson.

I had a box of carrot cake mix in the pantry and thought I'd put it to use in honor of the husband's accomplishment. After just over two hours of buttercream frosting fun, I had me an astromech droid.

"But why R2-A6?" you ask, Gentle Reader? Two reasons, I reply. For starters, I've made...five R2-D2s, if you include the botched and practice ones, and I just wasn't keen on doing another Artoo. Additionally, do you know how many astromech droids there are in the Star Wars universe? Okay, neither do I, but I do know the husband has probably a dozen different ones on the shelves in the Star Wars room. (Granted, he has that many Artoo toys as well, and these not-Artoo toys are mostly repaints of the Artoo mold, but I digress.) They come in a variety of colors--hell, you could even get a pink one that was made in honor of a little girl and Artoo lover who died of cancer. Wouldn't you like to see Vader in his massive black cape and his asthmatic breathing with a pink robot rolling on his heels? Destroys his cred as a badass, yes, but it'd be damn hilarious!

Anywho, I picked R2-A6 because I was in the mood to use green. I almost used a bag of green royal icing that had come with the gingerbread holiday tree kit we bought last year, but I didn't want to ruin the cake by putting that nasty shit on top. With the boy's keen sense of what exact color I needed to make my cakey astromech exactly right goad--guiding me, as well as a pressing deadline (for I wanted the thing done before the husband arrived home from work), I think I did a pretty fair job of recreating R2-A6 in cake form.

Of course, what matters most of all is that the husband was genuinely surprised and thrilled with the cake. That the cake itself was pretty damn tasty was an added bonus.

All I got for being published on StarWars.com was this lousy cake--and a paycheck from Uncle George!

Intergalatic Dining

No, the Faudie isn't becoming a space tourist--at least not yet. Instead, I'm here to crow about the husband's incredibly huge accomplishment: He composed a menu of intergalatic fare for a dive on Coruscant.

"What the hell are you talking about?" you ask, Gentle Reader?

In plain English, the husband, a life-long Star Wars fan, is now a published--for pay from Uncle George!--contributor to that universe.

Taa-daa!

Now you can enjoy the menu from Dex's Diner online. And that's not a suggestion, Gentle Reader. That's an order.

3.14159265....

Everyone's mad about pies this time of year--or so various media outlets would have us believe. Mum is a baker, but she never made pies at Thanksgiving and Christmas the way friends and acquaintances of mine do. I recall the occasional pecan pie to satisfy my father or my elder sister, but I also seem to recall these things were quite a hassle to produce. As for the traditional pumpkin pie, Mum made a concoction that I found far more flavorful than any pumpkin pie that we've since dubbed pumpkin mush, since that was the result once you stirred together the pumpkin...mousse and the whipped cream Mum made to accompany it. Ahh, such fond memories I have of pumpkin mush!

I'm sort of carrying on Mum's tradition of largely boycotting pies. When King Arthur Flour was in town at the end of October for baking demonstrations, I opted not to attend the pie-making session. I have no use for tips and tricks for making the perfect pie crust. While I've made a few cookie crumb and graham cracker crumb crusts in my faudie days to hold some sort of Jello and Cool Whip blend, I don't ever see myself venturing into the realm of pie crusts lovely blended with butter chilled to just the right temperature and shaped with just the right amount of pressure. I don't like pies, therefore I won't bake them.

That said, though, I did bake a sort of pie tonight. No, it wasn't a dessert pie of any type, Gentle Reader, and no Cool Whip was involved. This pie involved ::shudder:: Bisquick, that staple of Mum's pantry that I myself used sparingly in my prefaudie days and scorn openly in my faudie days.

Mimi's Zucchini Pie4 eggs
1/4 C vegetable oil
1 t baking powder
1 C all-purpose baking mix
1 1/2 C sliced zucchini
1 1/2 C sliced yellow squash
1/4 C chopped onion
1 large ripe tomato, sliced
1/4 C grated Parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
   
2. Lightly grease a 9" deep dish pie plate.
   
3. Whisk together the eggs and oil with salt and pepper in a bowl.
   
4. Stir in the baking powder and baking mix until moistened.
   
5. Gently fold in zucchini, squash and onion.
   
6. Pour the mixture into the pie plate.
   
7. Arrange the sliced tomato over the top.
   
8. Sprinkle the pie filling with Parmesan cheese to taste.
   
9. Bake the pie until puffed and golden brown, about 35 min.

Yield: 8 servings

Nutritional Info
Calories: 184
Fat: 12.6 g
Protein: 6.2 g
Fiber: 1.1 g
Carbs: 12.6 g
Cholesterol: 108 mg
Sodium: 409 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
Yes, this is one of the Poppy Cannon-worthy recipes. And yes, I couldn't help but make a few changes:

• I used four eggs' worth of liquid egg whites.
  
• I didn't use any salt, but I did use a relatively copious amount of freshly ground pepper.
  
• Since I eschew Bisquick but have a boy who likes pancakes every now and then, I used low-fat Pioneer Brand biscuit and baking mix. And because the cannister the mix comes lacks an easy-pore retractable spout, I wound up using a tad more than one cup of the stuff thanks to spillage.
  
• While I do have some yellow crookneck squash chunks among the scads of squashes Mum gave me from her garden, I used white squash instead. (The zucchs I used also came from Mum's garden.)
  
• In lieu of a fresh tomato or even slicing up a whole, peeled tomato from a can, I cracked open a can of no-salt-added diced tomatoes, drained the juice into the pot of pasta sauce I'd whipped up for the boys and then scattered some tomato diced pieces atop my little masterpiece.
  
• Screw the Parmesan. Me no likey the cheese.

I bookmarked this recipe from AllRecipes.com on a whim: While I had all the ingredients at the ready, I couldn't really see myself making this one because I'd be the only one eating it, and I'm not terribly keen on exerting a fair amount of baking time for something just for me.

But then came our first real cold front of the fall. After spending most of the day with my already tense shoulders hunched up around my ears to ward off the cold that never seems to leave the house once it's in, I was ready to turn on the oven and have it on for at least half an hour.

The oven wound up being on for damn near an hour. Thirty minutes after putting my pie in the oven, the bread-to-be was still gooey and doughy. Three to five minutes after that, the bread-to-be had started to look a bit more like dough. Five minutes after that, the crust was starting to turn golden. Three to five minutes after that, the bread-to-be in the body of the pie was starting to turn golden. Finally, five minutes after that, the damn thing was ready to come out of the oven.

Can I interest you in something warm from the oven?

By the time the pie was ready (and I knew going in that additional baking time was needed, for several recipe reviewers noted as much), I'd already had a good helping of lightly sauted leftover zucchs and white squash. But here's the thing, Gentle Reader: The smell of the hot-from-the-oven baking mix along with the smell of the onions and tomatoes took me back to the pizzas Mum would make some Friday nights using Bisquick for the crust and browned Potter sausage and tomato sauce for the topping (along with some garlic and onion powders, oregano and shredded cheese) that we'd enjoy with a small glass of Coke poured from a glass deposit-required bottle.

Okay, so the pie tasted nothing like the pizzas of yore, but, damn those memories, my pie was wonderfully comforting and warming in ways that anything else from the oven on this chilly, windy evening could ever be. I'm further ashamed to admit that I wound up eating the whole damn thing. I just couldn't imagine trying to reheat the leftovers, and I couldn't resist those feelings of warmth and comfort the pie evoked.

Pathetic, non? But, hey, I guess that's why pies are so popular this time of year. Waaaay back when, women in household kitchens made pies as a special treat for a holiday. The baking and eating of those pies instilled cherished memories that have been recreated to be shared from generation to generation. So what if my pie memories focus more on Bisquick than sweet, gooey fillings and crusts painstakingly rolled out with rolling pins that served both as kitchen utensils and sabers for the proverbial saber-rattling! It's all good.

What I Didn't See at Target at 5 O'clock This Morning

Man, I so wish I'd had this toy as a kid. Maybe if I'd had it along with my dual-burner Fisher Price kitchen set I had when I was a wee one, maybe I'd have been a faudie long before now.

Sadly, this stove worked better than the one that came with our house.

But I don't even know where to score a teach-me-to-gut-a-fish toy. I found it in a HuffingtonPost.com slideshow of toys you shouldn't buy your kids, but the product's not identified. Personally, I don't have a problem with this toy. Such a thing could get a kid interested in the culinary arts or in fishing--and at the very least doesn't hide the fact that fish we eat comes from an animal that was once alive and that has to be cut just so for consumption. There's too little honesty in our daily food consumption, I think.

No, instead when I was at Target this morning at the butt-crack of dawn, I scored the penultimate 1 terabyte external hard drive the store had, along with the last two 4 GB USB key drives from the big early-bird door-buster sale. Oh, and I also scored a free reusable bag, even though I was probably in the 150s of the people waiting in line and the bags were, according to the sales flyer, for the first 100 people in line. Not that I'm complaining.

How was your Black Friday, Gentle Reader? Hit any big sales hours before dawn to do your part to contribute to our consumerist society, or were you too bloated from your Thanksgiving celebrations to move? Or are you like the human residents here at Chez Boeckman-Walker--not so much into any Thanksgiving "traditions"?

I think my elder sister is convinced I'm somehow depriving my son because the boy's never watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, even though that turkey hold a very special place in my heart.

Eh, screw tradition. Make up your own, I say!

The Cycling Misadventures of a Faudie

Happy birthday to me, Gentle Reader!

That's right--I'm a year older. Well, technically a year and a week and a day older, but who's counting right?

To celebrate this particular anniversary of my birth, I acquired with the generous help of loved ones a brand new bike. A Trek 7.3 FX hybrid, to be precise--the same one I made the mistake of falling in love with this summer. I'd actually put it on layaway at the end of September, and the husband made the final payment and I rode it home on my birthday.

Wee! This baby can fly!

As much as I loved 'Ol Yeller, the early-90s Specialized Hardrock, my new bike is frickin' fantabulous. Hills I used to dread climbing on 'Ol Yeller barely register on this hybrid. Downhills I used to fly down on 'Ol Yeller are now glorious roller coaster-like drops that have me thinking if I hit a rock or some other piece of litter, I'm going to go flying over the handlebars for an intimate encounter with the pavement.

Y'know, 20 years after I got Fred the Red 10-speed and my first-ever brand-new bike, it seems fitting I get this new bike.

Of course, I couldn't just leave the thing well enough as is. No, I went and bought a new pair of peddles so I could wear my Spin shoes for long rides (like the ride I took to Cedar Park--just over 25 miles--the first Sunday I had it) but still be able to wear my crappy old running shoes for when I peddle up to the gym four days a week. While I'm very accustomed to clipping in and out on a Spin bike, doing it on a bike that moves? That's a whole different story!

Needless to say, taking the bike up and down the street in front of the house to practice clipping out of the pedals as I come to a stop resulted in not one but two intimate encounters with pavement.

I gots a boo-boo!

I can't remember when the last time I skinned my knees was. Probably 25 years or so.

Oh well. It's my first case of road rash. Guess I'm a real cyclist now!

My Triumphant Return to Baking

Hey there, Gentle Reader, long time no post, non? Yeah, I know--I'm a total slacker and derelict in my duties as a faudie to share my culinary misadventures with you. Worse still, I've allowed the husband to have two posts in a row. Le sigh...

I ask that you give me this chance to rectify the situation. I have a culinary misadventure to share with you at long last. For you see, Gentle Reader, I have returned to baking. No, that Halloween cake I made doesn't count. And it wasn't the cooler weather that got me back to baking, nor was it a strongly compelling recipe (although the recipe did seem awfully tasty when I saw it). Instead, I was inspired by our recent shopping trips to Sprouts Farmers Market in Round Rock.

Yeah, yeah, Gentle Reader, I know I bitched about Sprouts after my first visit, but while it has a lot of audacity calling itself a farmers' market, it does have some damn good prices on fresh fruits and veggies and on bulk foods. Sure, Sprouts doesn't have the bulk foods playlands that Whole Paycheck and Central Markup have, but the sale prices on items I really want (Need? Eh, not so much!) make up for the relatively limited selection.

Among the bulk food items on sale this month at Sprouts are the dried cranberries and--what a glorious find!--dried cranberries with added orange flavor. Oh! how the FSM blessed us all when it gave us these little morsels of deliciousness! Pair a palm-size portion of those little edible rubies with a bite of dark chocolate-coated honeycomb (also on sale this month, praises be!), and you've got yourself a damn fine orgasm of taste, Gentle Reader.

So how does this orgasm of taste have anything to do with me returning to baking? This is how: For as luscious as those orangey cranberries are by themselves and paired with dark chocolate-coated honeycomb, they also struck me as the perfect candidate for inclusion in some kind of baked good. Sure, sure, I've got a bread machine recipe or two I could use them in, but do I really need another brick of fruit bread taking up space in my 'fridge? Not really.

MyRecipes.com came to my aid. In one of its "Daily Indulgence" emails appeared a recipe for cranberry-oatmeal bars originally published in Cooking Light. Miracle of miracles, I had all the ingredients, and on the night that I had to whip up a sizable portion of bulgogi and japchae for the boy to take to school the next day for his class' Feast of Sharing, I got the crazy idea to make up a batch of the bars as well.

Cranberry-oatmeal Bars4.5 oz. all-purpose flour (about 1 C)
1 C quick-cooking oats
1/2 C packed brown sugar
1/4 t salt
1/4 t baking soda
1/4 t ground cinnamon
6 T butter, melted
3 T orange juice
1 1/3 C dried cranberries (about 6 oz.)
3/4 C sour cream
1/2 C granulated sugar
2 T all-purpose flour
1 t vanilla extract
1/2 t orange zest
1 large egg white, lightly beaten

1. Preheat the oven to 325°.
   
2. Combine the flour, oats, brown sugar, salt, baking soda and cinnamon in a medium bowl, stirring well with a whisk.
   
3. Drizzle the butter and juice over the flour mixture, stirring until moistened (mixture will be crumbly).
   
4. Reserve 1/2 cup of the oat mixture, then press the remaining oat mixture into the bottom of an 11" x 7"h baking dish coated with cooking spray.
   
5. Combine the cranberries, sour cream, granulated sugar, four, vanilla, orange zest and egg white in a second medium bowl, stirring well.
   
6. Spread the cranberry mixture over the crust.
   
7. Sprinkle the reserved oat mixture evenly over the filling.
   
8. Bake for 40 min. or until the edges are golden.
   
9. Cool the bars completely in the pan on a wire rack.

Yield: 24 squares

Nutritional Info
Calories: 133
Fat: 4.6 g
Sat fat: 2.6 g
Protein: 1.5 g
Carbs: 21.9 g
Fiber: 0.9 g
Cholesterol: 13 mg
Sodium: 67 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
Prepare for a shock, Gentle Reader: Despite my rambling and raving on and on so far in this post about those delicious orangey dried cranberries, I did not use them in this recipe.

I'll give you a minute to scrape yourself off the floor.

Back now? Great! Let's continue.

I opted not to use those precious gems this time because I didn't want to risk them going to waste in a recipe that was absolute crap. Remember that bland-ass bars I made from a recipe from Whole Paycheck? Well, I was fearful this recipe would have the same result.

But before I get to that result, let me review my futzings:

• Instead of all-purpose flour, which I do have, I whipped out my long-neglected bag of white whole wheat flour. The nutty flavor of that stuff pairs excellently with oats.
  
• I used Promise fat-free butter, even thought I have both Blue Bonnet Light and a light, hormone-free butter we use for bread.
  
• I used fat-free sour cream. I'd considered using fat-free plain yogurt but opted for the fat-free sour cream instead to remain truer to the original recipe.
  
• Morton's Lite Salt is just as good as regular salt, thank you very much.
  
• While I once again have a few whole eggs in my refrigerator, I used three tablespoons of liquid egg whites, which I whipped a little with a fork before adding to the bowl of filling.
  
• I zested a small Valencia orange, so I know for sure I put in more than half a teaspoon of the stuff. How much total went into the bowl I can't say for sure.

Zesty!

Prepare for another shock, Gentle Reader: I used regular brown sugar (light, not dark) and regular white sugar. I can't explain why I opted for the regular brown sugar; perhaps I did it because I have a brand-new bag of the stuff in my pantry. As for using white sugar, I had to do that because I didn't have enough Clabber Girl sugar replacer. Sad to say that more than a year after buying several bags when it was put on clearance, I'm almost finished with my last remaining bag. Fare thee well, Clabber Girl.

Despite not using the orangey dried cranberries, the finished bars had a wonderfully distinct orange flavor. I chalk that up to the probably doubled, if not tripled amount of orange zest. That's not to say, though, that the cranberry flavor is lost. It's fully present, as is the nutty-oaty flavor of the crust.

The bars were just too delicious not to desire immediately to make a second batch with the orangey dried cranberries. However, I really didn't need two batches of the things in my kitchen, so I struck upon a brilliant idea: The boy can take the first batch with him to school for the Feast of Sharing. Brilliant, non?

And it would have been a great way to be rid of the first batch in a nonwasteful way--if the boy had remembered to take the container with the bars out of his school bag when he got to school. How the hell he took out his homework folder that was in the same compartment as well as the pair of tongs and bag of styrofoam bowls I sent along for the bulgogi and japchae and his cup and little bags of snacks but forgot the container of bars is just beyond me. Maybe he decided he didn't want to share them, but then he never asked for one once they'd returned to their place of birth.

Le sigh. That second batch will have to wait a few more days.

Batman Wants You to Eat Your Vegetables

The husband found this book in the "collectibles" section at Half-Price Books and had to blog about it.

--The Faudie
Remember the end of the first Superman movie, when Superdude turnes back time by reversing Earth's orbit? No, it didn't make one damn lick of sense, but I'm not here to complain about that. Instead, I'd like to pretend Superman is spinning the planet backwards again...

...and now it's 1982! And this cookbook is available at your neighborhood bookstore:

Yup, it's the DC Super Heroes Super Healthy Cookbook. This no doubt well-intentioned oddity tries to get children excited about eating healthy foods such as sprouts and wheat germ (seriously, half of the recipes include wheat germ) by having the likes of Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman pretend that these recipes are really, really exciting. Don't take my word for it, though. Let's examine a few select pages together.

Yeah, this is messed up. Here you have two winged superheroes, admiring a breakfast that looks like a bird...made from eggs. So enjoy the cheerful little birdie, if you can get past the creepy infanticide/cannibalism vibes it's giving off.

Remember when Batman was fun? Because this is 1982 and Frank Miller hasn't been born yet (at least, I hope he hasn't been born, as that's the only excuse I can think of for his juvenile writing), Batman is still a nice guy, dressed in baby blue and almost--almost--cracking a smile as he wastes his time investigating a plate of French toast.

The highlight of this picture is, of course, Robin's comment about "putting the banana in the Batman." Say what?!?

Okay, this one's actually kind of cool. Dig those crazy-lookin' sandwich monsters! Green Lantern spends most of the book fighting peanut butter-based antagonists. I have no idea why.

Supergirl has the same powers as Superman, but because she's female, she gets stuck making dinner. Nice. (But you do have to love these instructions: "Bake in oven for one hour at 375 degrees or cook for two minutes under heat vision if you have superpowers." If only.)

Not more bananas! William Moulton Marston would be having a field day with that illustration.

Here's the cookbook's big finale: a party to celebrate the founding of the Justice League of America, attended by everyone...everyone except the Martian Manhunter, who's mysteriously MIA. (I like to think J'onn is maybe in disguise as the punch bowl.) Again, as this is 1982, our heroes actually get to cut loose and have some fun.

If only they knew what's in store for them in the years following this party. Superman dies. Green Lantern dies. Green Arrow dies. Aquaman dies. The Elongated Man dies. Hawkman dies. Hawkgirl dies. Batman dies (or gets stranded in time, or gets lost on the way to the bathroom, or whatever). Kind of a bummer, isn't it?

Oh, well. On a more positive note, Zatanna returns to the fishnets and ditches the Count Chocula outfit.

So the DC Super Heroes Super Healthy Cookbook succeeds in making healthy eating fun, but more in the way of giving me an opportunity to snark about something than by me actually preparing any of the food. There is one recipe, though, that I may try someday if I have the time and the wheat germ. Until then, I'll return you to the year 2009. Get that globe spinning, Supes!