Pizza Redux

The bread machines are multiplying--again. Damn me and my addiction! To help us decide which one(s) will stay and which ones will find new homes, I gave the husband the task of testing the dough cycle on one of them and testing some new flour. Oh what fun!

--The Faudie

Yes, it's pizza time again! As long-term readers of this blog will remember, I've been able to produce a pretty good deep-dish pizza with a lot of effort but have had only marginal success making pizza dough the quick way, with a bread machine. But seeing as how we have plenty of different bread machines on hand to experiment with--and because we picked up some high-protein flour during the visit to the Round Rock Sprouts a few weekends ago--it seemed like a good time to make another attempt at quick and easy pizza dough.

Angela and I both favor our Welbilt model ABM-3600, but in the spirit of giving the other machines a chance, I thought I'd see if the Breadman Ultimate model TR2200C could produce some decent pizza dough. The recipe came straight from its instruction manual:

Pizza Crust Dough1 C water, 80 degrees F
1 T oil
1 T sugar
1 1/2 t salt
1 T dry milk
2 1/4 C bread flour
1 t active dry yeast

1. Add ingredients to the bread pan in the order listed.
   
2. Select the Dough or Pizza Dough option on the machine.
   
3. Place the dough on a lightly floured surface.
4. Divide the dough, if making two thin crusts, then press onto one or two 12-inch pizza pans, raising the edges of the dough.
   
5. Spread pizza sauce over the dough, then sprinkle with toppings.
   
6. Bake at 425 degrees F for 20 min. or until the crust is golden brown around the edges.

Yield: One thick or two thin crusts

Nutritional Info
Not provided.

The Husband's Futzings
I'd chosen the TR2200C for this recipe specifically because it has a lot of controls for making specialty breads. Turns out, however, there's nothing special about its pizza dough setting--it's a quick, 55-minute cycle that I think any of our bread machines could have accomplished. So much for the TR2200C's fancy controls.

Compared to my previous attempt at bread machine-made dough, this batch was not nearly as gooey or as sticky. Despite this, I still managed to make a mess of getting the crust shaped properly.

The next time I try this, I'm going to forget about trying to shape the crust on the counter and take the dough directly from the bread machine to the pizza pan, where we can use Angela's silicon roller to get it into shape (which is what we've had to do both times anyway).

I baked the crust bare for about 15 minutes, then pulled it out of the oven long enough for the boy to add the toppings. Instead of the typical BBQ chicken pizza, we opted for something more traditional, using a sauce Angela had put together from who knows how many tomato-based leftovers.

My assistant took care of the toppings, and by "take care" I mean "ate half of them."

I'm extremely happy to report that the crust rose nicely in the oven (a significant improvement over the last attempt), and it came out chewy and golden brown. The taste, however, was somewhat unspectacular--Angela thought it was a bit salty, while I found it reminiscent of Little Caesars. I don't think either of us were paying it a compliment with those observations. Still, it was freshly made 'za, and that means it tasted a lot better than the pre-made crusts we typically use. I'll probably try out some other pizza dought recipes, but I'll keep this one on hand too.


And besides, who cares about the taste when you've got that nice, chewy texture, anyway?

Ever Considered What an Oddity 23 Is?

I hadn't. Not until I went looking for some kind of cultural significance to the number to tie it in to my latest running milestone.


Michael Jordan's long-time Bulls jersey number was 23. That was about all I knew about the number until Wikipedia enlightened me. Am I a dolt or just a cultural illiterate not to know the significance of the number 23, particularly the 23 Enigma?

Eh, some people just have too much time on their hands. They should be running instead.

A B@!$H Called Wanda

Several weeks ago, the boys and I trekked a little further into South Austin to visit New Flower Market, another one of those alleged farmers' markets that's just a small-scale and slightly less pricey version of Whole Paycheck. While there, I happened upon a bulk 10-grain bread mix and delightedly dumped several scoops' worth into a bag to bring home.

At the time of purchase, I oh so wisely wrote down on the twistie tag the mix's producer, Wanda's Nature Farm Foods. I knew that information would come in handy if I were going to find the instructions for using the mix. Unlike at Central Market, New Flower (and Whole Paycheck and Sprouts, for that matter) offer print-out labels for bulk foods that include not only the item's ingredients but also its preparation instructions, if pertinent.

Days later, I took to the Web to track down Wanda and her instructions. While I did find a site for the company, the tab for baking instructions has this oh-so-helpful note:

We are currently putting our baking instructions on our site. In the mean time, please email us at customerservice@superbakes.com if you need instructions! Thank you

Okay, Wanda's site's pretty low-tech, so I can understand not having readily available instructions. Plus the folks were kind enough to provide an email address, so, hey, great. I quickly send off an email, explaining that I need the instructions for Wanda's 10-grain bread mix.

Do I hear back?

Yeah, Gentle Reader, you know the answer.

Flash forward to the present--well, a few days back. The husband was out of his favorite six-seed bread, the weather is allegedly perfect for baking bread (King Arthur assures me bread rises higher on rainy days, and Austin was enjoy a string of rainy, cool days as it flirted with autumn as the autumn equinox came 'round) and I had this sizable bag of 10-grain bread mix just aching to be made. So I called Wanda's customer service toll-free number, and the woman I spoke with seemed ready to help. She did apologize that she couldn't email the instructions right then because she didn't have them on her system to email. However, she'd grab a box, scan the back of it to digitize the instructions and email them. She assured me I'd have them later that morning.

Did I get those instructions emailed to me as promised?

Yeah, Gentle Reader, you know the answer to that.

What's a faudie to do? Well, first I tracked down a basic ratio of dry ingredients to moisture for good bread-making. However, I was a little leery of using it because the bread mix, I seemed to recall, contained dehydrated versions of certain moist ingredients--but I couldn't be sure because the ingredients aren't given on Wanda's craptacular Web site.

Dismissing the ratio, I then sought out other 10-grain bread mixes on the Web. Sure enough, Bob's Red Mill makes one and is kind enough to post the instructions for the product on its useful Web site. Armed with a pretty good idea of what to do with my mix, I headed to the kitchen.

As the Welbilt worked, I hovered nearby, anxious to help out the mix and the machine as needed. The kneaded stages seemed to go well enough, but...

I wound up with a doorstop.

The loaf hardly rose, which made me question if the mix did indeed contain yeast. "Why did I think it contained yeast?" you ask, Gentle Reader? Because a few days before I attempted to make Wanda's mix, I discovered it's now also sold at my local Whole Paycheck. Fortunately for me, in some small way, Whole Paycheck prints on the label on the mix's bin what it contains. I tried my best to commit key ingredients--including yeast-- to memory, but...hey, I'm human and have a busy life. My memory's not the greatest, so perhaps I was wrong.

The evidence certainly suggests my memory was faulty.

After letting the lump--er, loaf cool out of the pan for about 10 minutes, I sliced off the heel from one end and took a bite, braced for the worst. As heavy as the loaf was, the crust was actually light and pretty tasty. The flavors were balanced so that no one grain overpowered the others. With 10 grains in the mix, the crust had a bit of a nutty flavor and was a little on the sweet side, so it portended good things to come from the rest of the loaf.

Encouraged, I sliced deeper. While the crust was...well, crusty and clearly baked as it should, the heart of the bread was, in essence, raw-looking. See for yourself, Gentle Reader:

This loaf's got no inner beauty.

But here's the thing, Gentle Reader: I'm a sucker for warm, aromatic carbs. And this sick, sad loaf was warm and aromatic, so how could I resist? Even the boys couldn't resist. The bread was pretty good with butter, but the boy and I decided it was best with honey. The husband, however, preferred it with just butter. That loaf was gone in a few hours, as sick and as sad as that is.

We were all saddened by this culinary misadventure, helped along by the negligence of Wanda. To add to the sorrow, the bag of bread mix does not contain enough to attempt another loaf--if Wanda ever gets her ass in gear and gets me those instructions. Bitch.

The Trouble With Tilapia

Tilapia tends to be on sale somewhat frequently at the local HEB, and when the price is good, it's hard to pass up picking up a few fillets. They're great for making fish tacos, and that's an easy, quick meal.

However, a person tires of fish tacos after a time, leaving said person with a few fillets of tilapia in the freezer in need of eating. And while tilapia is a pretty versatile fish, many of the recipes I've encountered for it just don't, well, do it for me.

Until I got the latest weekly email from Whole Paycheck, with its gaggle of recipes meant to peddle Whole Paycheck products. My track record with these recipes isn't great: The cherry-orange oatmeal bars seemed promising but were a totally tasteless dud, but the cranberry quinoa salad was tasty. That said, I was willing to give another one a shot if it helped me serve some tilapia in a new way.

Baked Southwest Tilapia1 t garlic powder
1 t chili powder
1 t salt
1/2 t black pepper
1/4 t cayenne pepper
4 6-oz. tilapia fillets
2 T extra virgin olive oil, divided
1 lime, cut into wedges

1. Preheat the oven to 450° F.
   
2. In a small bowl, combine the garlic powder, chili powder, salt, black pepper and cayenne.
   
3. Sprinkle the spice mixture evenly over both sides of the tilapia.
   
4. Coat a baking sheet with 1 tablespoon of oil.
   
5. Arrange the tilapia in a single layer on the baking sheet.
   
6. Drizzle the tilapia with the remaining tablespoon of oil.
   
7. Bake until the tilapia is golden brown and the flesh begins to flake (7 to 9 min.).
   
8. Serve with lime wedges on the side.

Yield: 4 servings

Nutritional Info
Calories: 230
Fat: 10 g
Sat fat: 2 g
Protein: 34 g
Carbs: 1 g
Cholesterol: 85 mg
Sodium: 680 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
You're wondering, Gentle Reader, how I could possibly futz with this incredibly simple recipe, right? Ahh, ye have little faith.

• I used less than a teaspoon of kosher salt instead of table salt, which I presume the recipe intends for use.
  
• I used some red pepper powder for the chili powder. I think I've mentioned before that I have the stuff out the wazoo since I bought a big bag of it at a Korean grocery some years ago to make a few Korean dishes.
  
• I only used two fillets. They're pretty big fillets and figured they'd be about equal to the overpriced, dinky fillets sold at Whole Paycheck.
  
• Instead of coating a baking pan with a tablespoon of olive oil, I lined the brownie pan I used with some aluminum foil, which I then coated with nonstick cooking spray. I did drizzle some olive oil atop the fillets, but only about half a teaspoon.

I probably should have halved the amount of spices since I was only using half the called-for fillets, but I didn't. So often I've combined spices for some recipe and wound up barely having enough to rub or sprinkle onto whatever meat it's used on. Wanting to be sure the fillets would have some flavor, I used the full amount.
Let me assure you, Gentle Reader, those two fillets had a good coat of spice on both sides.

When I popped the pair in the oven, I was a bit concerned that such high heat would badly roast the poor things. I'm really not accustomed to such high temperatures, but then I don't use my oven much for baking main courses. (Upon review of previous posts, I see that I did set Lumpy to 450 degrees for the religious red snapper I made a few months back. But that's just one time.) Of course, the tablespoon of olive oil is surely meant to protect the fish from drying out, or at least that's what I suspect. What do I know, really? I'm just The Faudie.

Eight minutes of baking was all the tilapia twosome needed to reach flakiness. They were wonderfully aromatic as they baked, although I have to admit the garlic was a tad too powerful. Garlic to me isn't a terribly Southwest/Tex-Mex flavor in my book; no, it's more Italian and Indian to me.

I'm not sure if it was the strong garlic scent or if the heat emanating from the oven did it, but I was tearing up as I served the fish. One bite later, my sinus were clearing (even though to my taste buds, the salt was a bit too strong). The boys' sinuses were also opening and clearing, so supper was accompanied by a soundtrack of sniffles and calls for more water. While the husband devoured a whole fillet, I wound up eating three-fourths of the other one because the boy-o decided after a handful of bites that his fish was too spicy for him. Ahh well. He filled up on black beans, so I'm not going to complain.

What's the lesson learned here? Whole Paycheck might have more to offer me from its recipes. I should reduce the amount of spices next time, especially the salt. And given how quick and easy this fish was to make, I will be making it again.

A Fundamental Truth

I have discovered one of those fundamental truths of the universe:

Eventually, everyone ends up on Law & Order.

May the FSM forgive me, but I've become something of a Law & Order junkie. Hell, it's really easy because there's only hundreds and hundreds of episodes available for rebroadcast and at least three channels (TNT, USA and Bravo) airing those repeats. And now that the new season has started, at least two of the shows--Law & Order and its first progeny, Law & Order: Special Victims Unit--will be back on NBC. I seem to recall that new episodes of another spawn, Law & Order: Criminal Intent aired on TNT, or perhaps these episodes, featuring new cast member Jeff "The Fly" Goldblum, were just new to TNT.

Mind you, it's not that I really enjoy the shows all that much. They're just...ubiquitous. They're always on. And for someone who has a fair amount of time on her hands, it's easy to just start watching. And never really stop.

It's the ubiquitousness of the show that proves the fundamental truth I have learned. Out-of-work has-been actors and actresses need a franchise such as Law & Order so they can make the rent, right? So really these shows are a godsend.

Moreoever, it's absolutely fascinating to see who's going to show up next. I can't tell you how many former big-time soap opera leads (primarily males) I've encountered as guest stars. The guy who played Philip Spaulding briefly on The Guiding Light (rest in peace), the guy who played Craig for years (and still might) on As the World Turns--those are just two examples right off the top of my head. I wouldn't be surprised if Kim Zimmer, better known as the Slut of Springfield, aka Reva Shayne Lewis Lewis Lewis Spaulding Lewis O'Neill Lewis etc., hasn't appeared at least once on one of the shows.

And then there's the former Hollywood box office draws. In addition to Jeff Goldblum, who scored himself a gig as a regular (well, as regular as one can get on Criminal Intent, which seems to divvy up episodes among three pairs of detectives), I've suffered through Rebecca De Mornay, Steve Guttenberg (no, he didn't fall off the face of the earth!), Robin Williams, Julia Roberts, Andrew McCarthy, Beverly D'Angelo and Chevy Chase....

Yep, half of the Griswold family has been on Law & Order

Of course, Gentle Reader, you can probably very easily guess that the shows are also littered with bigger-name TV stars. Many of them I never saw on the shows on which they gained fame, and I'm sure after watching their guest-starring turns that I'm better off for it. Whoever said Swoosie Kurtz could act is, hopefully, burning in one of those circles of Hell right now.

In addition to these folks, there are the oddball stunt castings, particularly for sweeps episodes. Bobby Flay, that lead singer guy from Sugar Ray, Madhur Jaffray (whose many talents are probably unknown to 99 percent of SVU's viewing audience), one-time presidential candidate/Congressperson/actor-type person/general old white man grump Fred Thompson (although he's been a recurring character for a few seasons, so that's not exactly stunt casting)--those are just some of the examples.

Grumpy Old White Guy Thompson is not a freelance mammographer

So you see, Gentle Reader, everybody ends up on Law & Order sooner or later.

Although I bet the folks know that when they wind up on Law & Order, they know it's too late.

The Faudie Had a Little Lamb

We've had a first here at Chez Boeckman-Walker: I prepared lamb.

Yeah, yeah, I know, Gentle Reader. It's lamb. Lambs--and grown sheep to some degree--are pretty adorable creatures. They're adorable on the same level as Bambi and bunnies and calves.

I hate Bambi. But yeah, bunnies and calves are pretty cute. I've never eaten rabbit and never will, seeing as how I had pet rabbits as a kid. I've eaten veal--or some meat that The Olive Garden claimed was veal.

We came to have raw lamb--boneless leg of lamb, to be precise--because I finally got around to reading The Kitchen Detective by Christopher Kimball. It was among some of the first cooking books I bought way back, but it's lingered at the bottom of the stack of books beside my nightstand. After finally getting through The Ten-Cent Plague (great premise, not so great execution), I thought I'd give Kimball's tome a try. After all...

I Heart Christopher Kimball

But as much as I heart Christopher Kimball, I've skimmed past most of the "case files" in this book. It's contents are all too similar to the types of food America's Test Kitchen tends to focus on: traditional, all-'merican (i.e., bland, New England) dishes that are the meat and bones of kitchen bibles of yesterday and today. Even the dishes that come close to the "ethnic" category are toned down.

That said, there was something about his case file for Indian-style lamb stew that made me not only carefully read it but also consider trying it. I mean, I should have flipped past it after glancing at its introduction:

American beef stew is satisfying [speak for yourself], dependable [read: boring], and, unfortunately, a bit dull [Amen!]. With just a few flavoring additions, the use of lamb instead of beef, and a couple of changes in cooking method, I set out to transform an American classic into something special.

Yeah, I know, Gentle Reader: Kimball's not even starting with an authentic Indian recipe, so why should I give this thing the time of day?

Blame it on another book: Ziryab: Authentic Arab Cuisine by Farouk Mardam-Bey. It's one of those odd finds from the Half-Price Books in Round Rock, which is the antithesis of Austin: unabashedly white, older, far from worldly. Anywho, this fascinating book is chock full of tasty-sounding dishes that primarily use lamb as their protein source. Unfortunately, many of these recipes include ingredients that I've yet to track down, and given my skinflintedness, I'm not quite ready to use a bevy of new-to-me ingredients for a really exotic-to-me dish.

In other words, losing my lamb virginity (Ewww! But better than ewe!) with a recipe with ingredients I know well from a source I trust seemed like a very reasonable, logical thing to do.

Lamb Stew With Cinnamon, Cloves, Cumin and Coriander3 T vegetable oil
3.5-4 lb. boneless leg of lamb, trimmed of visible fat and silver skin and cut into 1" chunks
1 1.5" cinnamon stick
6 whole cloves
2 onions, cut into 1/2" dice
6 medium garlic cloves, pressed or pureed
1 2" piece of ginger, peeled and grated or pureed
1 T coriander seeds, ground
1 T cumin seeds, ground
2 C canned diced tomatoes, drained
2 1/2 C chicken stock (if using canned, choose a low-sodium brand)

1. Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil in a large, heavy-duty Dutch oven, deep skillet or saute pan over medium-high heat.
   
2. Liberally season the lamb cubes with salt and pepper.
   
3. When the oil just starts to smoke, brown the lamb in batches, then set it aside.
   
4. Lower the heat to medium-low, then add the remaining tablespoon of oil.
   
5. Add the cinnamon stick, cloves and onion, then saute 5-6 min. or until the onion is softened and just beginning to color.
   
6. Add the garlic, ginger, coriander, cumin and tomatoes, then cook, stirring almost constantly, until the liquid evaporates, the tomatoes soften, the oil separates and turns orange and the spices become very aromatic (5-6 min.).
   
7. Add the lamb and chicken stock and stir to combine with the other ingredients, scraping the browned bits from the bottom of the pan.
   
8. Raise the heat to medium-high, bring the liquid to a boil, then lower the heat to maintain a gentle simmer and cook for about 1 hour (this time may vary) or until the lamb is very tender and the liquid has thickened. (If the lamb needs more than an hour to soften, cover the pot to keep the sauce from reducing too much.)
   
9. Adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper, then serve immediately.

Yield: 6 servings of unknown size

Nutritional Info
Dear Mr. Kimball fails to provide a nutritional breakdown for the recipes in his book. For shame!

The Faudie's Futzings
Since this recipe's my first attempt to do anything with raw lamb, I wasn't about to screw with it too much. But I did futz just a wee bit:

• I used jarred minced garlic. So sue me.
  
• I was too lazy and my hip too sore (damn bursitis) after doing all the prep work with the spice seeds and the onions and the lamb (more on that in a moment) to peel and grate ginger. So I used two relatively heaping teaspoons of ginger paste.
  
• I'm sure this does matter to Mr. Kimball because his book includes a rather lengthy expose on the importance of making one's own quality chicken stock and chicken broth and the differences between the two, but I used low-sodium chicken broth, not chicken stock.

The boneless leg of lamb the husband and I acquired at our insane first trip to Sprouts, the new "farmers' market" supermarket that just opened in Round Rock. It's very similar to New Flower Market in far south Austin, which we visited a few weeks back, in that it appears to be a scaled-down version of Whole Paycheck for folks who bike because they can't afford a car and wear Birkenstocks they got used from Goodwill, not brand new from Whole Earth Provisions. (You know, the real crunchy-granola, hairy-armpitted hippie types, not the overfed, laser-hair-removaled, Prius-driving crunchy-granola hippie-wannabes.) That Sprouts and New Flower call themselves farmers' markets is rather galling because they're nothing at all like farmers' markets. Very little of the produce is local, and much of what we saw was imported. Most of the other products were not local either.

But, hey, we were there and had found high-gluten flour in the bulk foods area (which was hardly accessible because the lines for the checkouts extended so far back), so why not pick up that hunk of boneless leg of lamb? And that hunk of dark chocolate-covered honeycomb from the bulk bin? And those whole, raw almonds on sale?

Once I got the lamb out of the package and onto a cutting board, I set out to do as Mr. Kimball advised: trimming off visible fat and the silver skin before cubing it. Now, I'll admit that buying frozen, boneless, skinless chicken breasts has robbed me of much practice at trimming fat, and I found myself cursing my sloth for I dearly needed some experience and skill to get all the fat off this f'in piece of lamb's leg.
Good grief, the stuff was thick in places, and getting it off with my handy chef's knife was damn near impossible.

Towards the end of the trimming, I gave up, set my knife aside and just started tearing away the fat and translucent...stuff that I knew wasn't meat with my bare hands. It was oddly satisfying to do so, Gentle Reader. Gads, does that make me some sort of barbarian?

Hacked to Bits

The cooking 'o the stew was pretty basic and very similar to chicken curries I've made in the past. Once I got to the part at which I was just let the stuff simmer so the lamb could become tender, I started to worry. I'd not been entirely successful at removing all visible fat and...translucent stuff, so would that doom my stew? Would I end up with chewy, nasty-tasting chunks of meat? Would I miss the 5:30 p.m. dinnertime deadline I'd set for myself and find myself in a tizzy at 6 p.m. because even after 90 minutes of simmering, the meat was far from tender?

At 5:30, the basmati rice was ready, the stew's sauce had thickened some--but not a whole lot, which also had me worried--but poking at a few chunks of lamb didn't give me great confidence that the stuff was tender.

As I sent the boys to the table with their servings, I secreted a small chunk of meat out of Chive the Dutchie and into my mouth. The chunk practically melted in my mouth. Hazzah! Success!

Having declared this culinary misadventure a success, I have to wonder if I'd make it again. At its heart, the recipe isn't all that different from a few simple chicken curries I've made, but the lamb was, well, kind of expensive and required more prep than what I'm accustomed to doing. I can't imagine using chicken in lieu of lamb, nor can I imagine substituting beef since I prefer not to eat beef.

As for The Kitchen Detective, it's not a keeper. The bulk of the recipes are just not for me and the boys, and dear Mr. Kimball's tales of his own culinary misadventures in his pursuits to perfect the recipes do have some interesting insights into this thing called cooking. These insights you can parlay into other recipes, so the book is useful. However, unless you enjoy the types of dishes dear Mr. Kimball aims to perfect in the book, you probably wouldn't keep it on your bookshelf either.

As Easy as Apple Pie

The husband is back with yet another bread-making experiment.

--The Faudie
This is going to be a quick post, as (for a change) nothing really went wrong during the making of this bread! Angela chose the recipe from The Bread Machine Cookbook, and the boy and I put it together with no problems and not even much of a mess. We must be getting the hang of this bread-making thing!

That, or we just got lucky for a change. Either way, I'm satisfied!

Here's the recipe:

Apple Chunk Bread2/3 C milk
2 T vegetable oil
1 1/2 T sugar
1/2 t cinnamon
1 t salt
2 C bread flour
1 t yeast
1/2 medium apple, peeled and diced

1. Place ingredients into bread machine in the order suggested by the machine's manufacturer.
   
2. Select the Sweet or Basic option on the machine, then start the cycle.
3. Add apple at the beginning of the second kneading cycle.
   

Yield: One 1-pound loaf

Nutritional Info
Not provided.

Okay, I'll admit this wasn't a perfect execution of this recipe. Somehow we ended up using a whole apple rather than half of one. I'd say that mistake didn't make a difference, but the bread did fail to rise in any significant way. Whether or not that was the result of including too much apple, I can't say.

As for the taste, the cookbook's author promises that "you'll think you're eating an apple pie." I wouldn't go that far. I found the apple and cinnamon flavors to be somewhat subtle. Maybe it's a good thing we included as much apple as we did.

The author is correct, however, when she recommends that the bread be served warm--this is one of those loaves that you want to eat whole right out of the bread machine. (But then, most breads are, I've found. Warm bread straight from the machine is hard to resist.)

It's as easy as...well, you know

Scurvy Optional

That's right, Gentle Reader. It's that time again!


Can you believe it's been a year already? You do have your costume and peg leg ready, right? If not, there's no need yet to walk the plank. You surely can plunder the booty of your closet and dresser for something suitable. Or go crazy with the craft supplies. Of course, you need to get more creative then this:

In my opinion, the Dread Pirate Roberts strikes a good fashion note with a look that can be easily emulated.

If you don't have enough black in your wardrobe--well, for starters, for shame, Gentle Reader! Also, you can always cop out, run down to Long John Silver's and pick up one of the flimsy pirate hats the restaurants (a term I use loosely, just like your stools after you eat there) hand out.
These hats come in handy too for hiding your baby's massive, pasty, egg-shaped head. (And how typical that my elder sister forced me to be her first mate even back then. Le sigh.)

If you just want to talk the talk but not walk the walk, check out the official Web site for all things Talk Like a Pirate Day.

Arrr, since I have to teach tomorrow, I wonder what kind of asanas pirates would do. Navasana (boat pose) for sure.

Methinks the wench needs more cleavage to be a good pirate wench.

Panis Cum Laude

Ever heard of the Sacred Heart Memorial Hospital soup, Gentle Reader? What about the Sacred Heart Hospital diet? Or any other allegedly hospital-associated diet or diet food?

Whether you have or you haven't, most likely your level of skepticism has hitched up a few notches just reading that paragraph, and for good reason: Most of these diets or super-duper weight loss food items that float around are total bubkes.

Knowing what a cynical SOB I am, you can surely understand then, Gentle Reader, that I was scoffing quite heartily when I came across a recipe in Donna Rathmell German's The Bread Machine Cookbook for high-protein diet, aka Cornell, bread. Sounds like some kind of Atkins craze cash-in, non?

Here's what Rathmell German has to say about the bread:

Much better than the commercial diet breads which [sic] use 'sawdust fiber' as filler. This is a tasty, dense loaf. The recipe is based on a formula devised for superior nutrition in bread by Cornell University.

Believe it or not, Gentle Reader, she's right. And it has nothing to do with Atkins. The bread dates back to the '40s and was devised to help provide good nutrition in spite of wartime rationing. So to fully disprove my deeply rooted cynicism, I had to make this loaf for myself.

High Protein Diet (Cornell) Bread1 C water
1 T vegetable oil
1 T honey
3/4 t salt
2 T wheat germ
1/4 C soy flour
1 C whole wheat flour
1 1/2 C bread flour
1/4 C nonfat dry milk
1 1/2 t vital gluten, optional
1 1/2 t yeast

1. Add ingredients into bread bucket according to the order recommended by the bread machine's manufacturer.
   
2. Select the Whole wheat or Basic cycle option.
   
3. Start the cycle.

Yield: One small (1-pound) loaf

Nutritional Info
Rathmell German does not provide nutritional info for her recipes, and I couldn't readily (i.e., within a few clicks) find the nutritional info for the original Cornell bread recipe. Sorry.

The Faudie's Futzings
I was surprised by the small amount of vital gluten called for as an option since all my research has the recommended vital gluten-to-whole wheat flour ratio at one tablespoon for every cup of flour. Based on previous success with that ratio and suspecting that all those flours and the wheat germ would make for some dense dough that might have a helluva time rising, I added a full tablespoon of vital gluten to my bread.

Did I end up with a taller loaf?

Hell no.

As you can see, Rathmell German was very right when she wrote that this is a dense loaf. It's a squat, dense loaf. It's not an especially pretty loaf, but I'm not of the school that every loaf of bread ought to be a visual work of art.

I can't imagine how the loaf might have turned out if I hadn't added the gluten. I'll also say, Gentle Reader, that I doubted the 1.5 teaspoons of yeast was enough, but I followed that direction. Next time, perhaps I'll use the more common 2.25 teaspoons. Then again, perhaps the moist air we've been enjoying lately interfered with the bread's rising. In fact, just today I baked yet another loaf of honey whole wheat bread for the boy, and for the first time ever, the sucker sank as the bread machine kicked over to the baking cycle.

As for Rathmell German's claim that this is a tasty loaf, I'll only partially agree. To my taste buds, it didn't taste too terribly different from some other loaves the husband and I have made that have combined whole wheat and bread flours. In fact, I was a little let down by the taste.

Did that stop me from by and large devouring the entire loaf within a few hours of its emergence from the loaf bucket?

Hell no.

Messy Mice

It's been said by many people in many places that it takes more than the ability to read a recipe and follow its directions to be a good cook. I'd revise that statement by changing good to competent. Having the...pleasure of observing the husband following a recipe relatively solo, I believe my proffered change to that good cook adage is affirm. Enjoy the post, Gentle Reader. I have powdered sugar to clean up....

--The Faudie
We had a (rare) rainy Saturday in Austin this weekend, affording us a perfect opportunity to stay at home and tackle a recipe from this year's Taste of Home Halloween Food & Fun. Angela said she was leaving this project to me and the boy, but the kiddo abandoned me pretty early in the process, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

Left to my own devices, would I end up with a horror story to go along with the Halloween theme? Read on for the frightening details.

From the many sugary treats the boy and I are keen on trying from the Taste of Home magazine, we'd chosen the following deceptively simple recipe to try.

Midnight Mice1 C creamy peanut butter
1/4 C butter, softened
1/2 t vanilla extract
1 1/2 C confectioners' sugar
1 1/2 C crisp rice cereal
3/4 C sliced almonds
12 oz. dark chocolate candy coating, chopped
1 T shortening
36 2" pieces black shoestring licorice
Assorted small candies, such as red cake decorator dots, M&Ms semisweet miniature baking bits, black sugar

1. In a small bowl, beat the peanut butter, butter and vanilla until blended.
2. Gradually beat in the confectioners' sugar.
3. Stir in the cereal.
4. Shape the mixture into 1" balls, tapering one end to resemble a mouse's snout.
5. Position almonds on the mouse head for ears.
6. Refrigerate the mice until chilled.
7. In a large, microwave-safe bowl, melt the candy coating and shortening, then stir until smooth.
8. Dip the mice into the coating, the place on a wax paper-lined baking sheet.
9. Immediately insert a licorice piece into each mouse for its tail.
10. Place candy on the head for the mouse's eyes and nose.
11. Sprinkle each mouse with black sugar (optional).
12. Refrigerate until set.

Yield: 3 dozen mice

Before I get any further into this story, allow me to introduce one key fact: The only creamy peanut butter we had in the house was a jar of Better 'n Peanut Butter. Better 'n Peanut Butter is a great, low-fat, low-calorie spread. It's also really, really gooey. Too gooey for this particular recipe, I would soon find out.

Oblivious to the disaster I had in the making, I began working on my mice. I blended together [I had to clue him in that the direction to "beat together" in the recipe meant that he should use the electric mixer and a pair of beaters --The Faudie] the Better 'n Peanut Butter with the butter [which I pointed out he should have creamed in the bowl as the first step --The Faudie] and the confectioners' sugar, trying hard to keep a clean workspace.

Maybe I should have tried a little harder.

After adding in the cereal, it was time to shape some mice. It quickly became apparent, though, that my mixture didn't have the consistency it needed. It was just too soft. Even after refrigeration, the mice were too gooey to proceed any further with.

The three of us ate the failed experiment for dessert that night. We didn't even bother to enrobe them, as we didn't want to waste the white almond bark candy coating we were going to use to give them the appearance of lab rats. The not-quite-mice were pretty tasty, though, so I planned on trying the recipe again the next day.

They look like melted mice!

On Sunday we picked up some real peanut butter along with some chocolate CandiQuik (by this point, I didn't care if they were lab rats or not--I just wanted some mice!), and I started over. I ran out of the plain rice cereal the second time around, so I supplemented it with some Choconilla Cocoa Krispies, a cereal we've had around the house so long that I don't think it's listed on Kellogg's Web site any more. This time, the mixture was nice and thick, so much so that I actually had a difficult time getting all of the cereal folded in. [That he chose a bowl two times too small had nothing to do with that difficulty whatsoever. --The Faudie] But it worked perfectly as material for forming the mice, as if it were some kind of pleasant, peanut-scented Play-Doh.

Apparently the only thing better than Better 'n Peanut Butter...is peanut butter.

Much better-looking than the previous batch of mice

The mixture was shaped into mouse-looking lumps and were properly chilled and ready for enrobing in chocolate--and here's where I ran into more problems.

My brilliant plan was to poke the mice in their rears with a bamboo skewer, then dip them into the chocolate. (The resulting holes in their rears could then be used to hold the ends of their tails--clever, don't you think?) Unfortunately, the butt of the first mouse I tried this with crumbled, and we had to come up with a different approach.

In the end, Angela came to my rescue [again --The Faudie] and hand-painted all the little mice. As she finished each one, I added the candy details--leftover hard candy from one gingerbread kit or another for eyes and noses, and Haribo Sour S'ghetti for tails. (I'll admit that more than a few tails were devoured by me or the boy without them ever being attached to a rodent's posterior.) We'd originally intended to use candy corn--rather than the almonds called for in the recipe--for ears, but the mice ended up being so delicate I didn't want to risk sticking the candy corn into them. So we opted for making earless mice instead.

Call the health inspector--it's an infestation!

In the end, I think all the work that went into making these was worth it, though we only ended up with twenty (and that's including the one that crumbled when I tried to skewer it), not the three dozen the recipe said we'd get. I'm sure that if I'd made them smaller I could have had more, but I'm happy with the final result.

Three blind mice...blind because they have candy for eyes, natch

What to Do With Old Fish

I think, Gentle Reader, that I might have prepared last night the last of the giant slab of mahimahi I bought back in April. That was a helluva lotta fish, and it was all delish...but after a while, a person hankers for a new delish fish dish.

So what's a Faudie to do if she finds herself without a ready recipe to try out? She calls upon her trusty assistant Google to search out something new to try.

This time around, Google helped me find a sweet and spicy glazed mahimahi recipe on Recipezaar that's highly reminiscent of the rosemary chicken with orange-maple glaze and another salmon-maple combo we here at Chez Boeckman-Walker love much. I had the ingredients needed for the recipe--including the maple syrup!--so why not take a chance?

Steamed Cajun Maple Mahimahi2 T maple syrup
1 t Cajun seasoning
1/2 t garlic powder
2 mahimahi filets

1. Combine the syrup, seasoning and garlic powder in a small bowl, stirring well.
   
2. Lightly sprinkle the filets, skin removed, with salt and pepper.
   
3. Start the filets steaming in a food steamer appliance or stovetop steaming setup.
   
4. Halfway through the steaming time (depends on method used), lightly brush Cajun glaze atop filets.
   
5. If preferred, serve filets with additional glaze brushed on top or on the side.

Yield: 2 to 4 servings, depending on filet size and appetites of diners

Nutritional Info
Here's the nutritional info of the original recipe:
Calories: 228
Fat: 1.5 g
Sat fat: 0.4 g
Protein: 37.9 g
Carbs: 14 g
Fiber: 0.1 g
Cholesterol: 148 mg
Sodium: 181 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
Other than reducing the amount of Cajun seasoning originally called for, my version doesn't differ dramatically from its source.

Given how little maple syrup is in the recipe, it certainly doesn't get lost. Perhaps if you used more Cajun seasoning--say, closer to the three-quarters of a tablespoon called for originally--that sweetness might be entirely overwhelmed. Then again, Gentle Reader, the ratio of sweet and spicy might also depend on how strong your Cajun seasoning is. The bulk stuff I got at Central Markup or Whole Paycheck (can't remember which) isn't overwhelming, but it does have a nice kick.

As you can see from the photo, I served the fish along with some jasmine rice (to satisfy the boy) and some steamed carrots, which did not get into the photo. I drizzled some of the glaze onto my rice just to give it a bit of kick because, well, I'm not as nuts about plain jasmine rice as the boy is. Eh, to each his own.

If you're out of fish of any kind, you could probably pair this simple glaze with chicken, pork and maybe even a beef cut of some sort. It would probably work even better if applied to your meat of choice while it's being sauteed. In fact, I can't wait to try the glaze out atop some browning chicken breasts. Yum!

Shameless Product Plug

As you should surely know, Gentle Reader, I bike a fair amount nowadays. A lot of that biking is on the busy highways around Chez Boeckman-Walker during morning rush hour traffic. I always have my helmet on, my hand signals (no, not those hand signals) ready and my eyes and ears open because the FSM only knows when some idiot in a hell fire hurry to get to work is going to zip over into the median on Parmer Lane (the road, not the feline resident of Chez Boeckman-Walker) to go around the slow idiot in front of him or her and, well, make road pizza out of me.

To help folks identify me or my remains, I've always carried my driver's license either in my backpack or in my bike's under-the-seat pack or the purse-cum-messenger bag I take when I'm selling plasma or pedaling to a local store. Said license is handy, yes, for letting someone else know at least my name, but a driver's license isn't that terribly useful in an emergency. Plus it's a pain in the rump to have to keep track of which satchel my license is in for when I need it to, well, drive legally.

To eliminate the hassle of trying to keep track of my license and to provide Good Samaritans or EMTs with more information should, the FSM forbid, I one day become road pizza, I've invested in a RoadID.

I even splurged and got the Elite model. However, I didn't go for the interactive version. Why make the finder of my remains make an additional phone call just to get my emergency contact info?

If you too, Gentle Reader, spend a fair amount of time out and about in a manner that makes carrying a wallet with identification cumbersome or difficult, then you might give some thought into acquiring a RoadID for yourself. In addition to wrist models, the company offers dog tags, an ankle model, a tag you can lace onto your shoe, as well as an pouch you can lace onto your shoe along with the ID plate. Granted, if you're really crafty, you could probably come up with some DIY version of this product--or resort to writing your name and emergency contact info in your underwear with permanent marker. But who wants to break out the Sharpies and do that underwear? And if you wear something besides tightie whities, you may not have much space for all that info. I mean, do you want to try writing your name and a phone number on your thong?

If you decide a RoadID is for you, then take advantage of this nice offer the fine folks at RoadID sent me as a thanks for my order: Input coupon code ThanksAngela540978 into the appropriate field when you check out, and you'll get a buck off your order. Hey, that almost pays for basic shipping since the company only charges about $1.50 for standard shipping.

That coupon code is good through October 13, by the way. And if you really want one of these IDs but a buck off isn't enough to motivate you to buy, shoot me an email. I can perhaps help you out.

Think Pink

I grew up drinking lots of Kool-Aid. Black cherry was my favorite, I seem to recall, when I was a kid, before soda got ridiculously cheap thanks to high fructose corn syrup and I moved on to guzzling lots of Dr. Pepper. However, often during the summer when I was in high school and largely responsible for acquiring the family's weekly groceries, I'd snag a few packets of regular and pink lemonade. I'll admit to being more partial to pink lemonade because it's sweeter, but when it comes to Kool-Aid lemonade, who the hell can really tell the difference? One is sugary yellow water that looks a bit too much like urine, and the other's sugary pink water.

And those Kool-Aid packets, Gentle Reader, were not the sugar-free stuff. No, I went for the full-on sugar hit represented by the Kool-Aid Man busting through a wall--and I always added just a bit more sugar (about an eighth of a cup more) than necessary.

To quote the Kool-Aid Man himself, Oh, yeaahh! I likes my teeth-rooting Kool-Aid lemonade extra sweet, Gentle Reader.

To my delight, I came across a lemonade frogurt recipe that seemed pretty simple, even if it did require me to buy half-and-half, a product for which I have no other use aside from specific and infrequently made recipes in a quantity that would require me to buy a larger carton. I showed the recipe to the husband, and he got quite anxious to try it.

Two months later, on a blessedly rainy Friday, I finally got around to making it.

Lemonade Frozen Yogurt32 oz. low-fat vanilla yogurt
12 oz. frozen lemonade concentrate, thawed
1 C half-and-half
1/4 C lemon juice
1/2 C sugar

1. In a bowl, whisk together the yogurt, lemonade concentrate, half-and-half, lemon juice and sugar until the sugar dissolves.
   
2. Cover the mixture and chill until cold (about 30 min.).
   
3. Freeze the mixture in an ice cream maker (1 1/2-qt. capacity) according to the manufacturer's instructions, until motor stops or the dasher is hard to turn. [What the hell is a dasher? -The Faudie]
   
4. Transfer the frozen yogurt to an airtight container and freeze until firm enough to scoop (about 2 hrs.).

Yield: About 1 1/2 quarts (serving size is 1/2 cup)

Nutritional Info
Calories: 190
Protein: 4.4 g
Fat: 3.3 g
Sat fat: 2.1 g
Carbs: 37 g
Fiber: 0.1 g
Sodium: 61 mg
Cholesterol: 11 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
Since I'm an admitted fan of pink lemonade, I bought Minute Maid pink lemonade concentrate. And since I'm The Faudie, I had to make a few other changes:

• I used fat-free vanilla yogurt.
  
• I used fat-free half-and-half.
  
• I used Clabber Girl sugar replacer.
  
• I used freshly squeezed lemon juice. Hey, I need to do some work for this recipe!

The whisked-together concoction in and of itself was damn tasty, Gentle Reader. I had half a mind to just...I don't know, not put it in the Queasy Art ice cream freezer I have because, well, said freezer isn't really much of an ice cream-making appliance. The bowl has to be frozen well in advance of use, and it spins around the churning blade. If you're using the device in a hot kitchen, your bowl isn't going to stay cold long, and you and your ice cream are screwed. There's nothing worse than being disappointed by ice cream.

But I'd had the bowl for my ice cream freezer in the deep freeze for two months, taking up valuable real estate, so by the FSM's great spaghetti bowl I was going to use the damn thing.

Unfortunately, my freezer's claim to make up to 1.5 quarts is greatly exaggerated. I poured in my chilled mixture well past the fill line, slurped down some of what remained, then poured the rest into the empty yogurt carton, which I stuck in the 'fridge for later consumption. But my slurping didn't end there, Gentle Reader. Damn but that sugary concoction was good! so of course I had to...remove some of the swirling, slowly freezing mixture as it churned around and around and around in a hypnotizing pink swirl.

Even Bucket found the pink swirl hypnotizing.

I wish I could tell you how long I let the ice cream freezer do it's thing, but the yogurt mixture never reached that point of solidity specified in the recipe. I knew going in that it wouldn't because my freezer just isn't capable of that feat. Perhaps I let the thing churn and swirl for 25 minutes, which was just about long enough for a good portion of the yogurt to get thicker and semisolid, sort of like ice cream that you've just brought home from the grocery store after a 10-minute car trip on a hot summer's day.

Because of my...removal of some of the swirling pink concoction, I wound up with maybe a quart, but probably less. The container I got out to stow the finished product in was far too large for the job, but I used it nevertheless because I was in a hurry to transfer the semisolid finished product and get it into the freezer.

I will say this: Two hours in the freezer is, at least for my ice cream maker, not enough to freeze the churned stuff really solid. About two and a half hours after I put my semisolid frogurt into the refrigerator's freezer, I served up a scoop to the boy, who'd tasted the mixture both before it went into the maker and while it was churning and declared he loved it. While the concoction around the outer edges of the too-big bowl was pretty solid, the stuff in the center was still in the same semisolid state.

The boy still loved the stuff nevertheless.

After sampling some of the frogurt after its time in the freezer, I also tried (i.e., polished off) the leftover mixture that hadn't fit into the ice cream maker. There was no difference in the flavor of the two, and the small leftover portion was more solid. However, when I use the term solid, I don't mean it in the same sense that ice cream out of a carton is solid. When you pop a liquidy concoction such as this lemonade frozen yogurt into the freezer, you just wind up with a solid mass that you have to chip away at with a spoon or some other utensil with some weight.

Getting back to the flavor, I'll say that my take on the recipe does indeed capture the sugary sweetness and acidic tartness of pink lemonade. If you don't like your pink lemonade as sugary sweet as I do, Gentle Reader, you could probably use less sugar and maybe even use plain yogurt while adding in a bit of vanilla extract to counter the sourness of plain yogurt. Since I have so damn much half-and-half left over, perhaps I'll whip up another batch or three and do some experimenting.