I previously mentioned that I have been eating an increasingly vegetarian diet.  Now it’s come to the point where I’ve done some research on vegetarianism, and put a lot of effort into saying pretentious things like “Now, we can’t go there if they don’t have a vegetarian option!” to Simon and my friends.  I think only I think that’s funny.  Shame.

It’s been fun, really!  And it’s interesting to see things from the other side of the table or however the saying goes.  I’m reminded of the time my friend Amy and I, 6th graders who cared, decided to become vegetarians because we loved animals.  Unfortuantely we had no clue what we were doing, so we ended up just removing the lunchmeat from our sandwiches… which usually meant we ate a limp piece of lettuce between two pieces of bread for lunch.  That didn’t last long.

I’ve never made stuffed mushrooms before, but I thought it would be a good way to easily make one meat-having portion and one vegetarian portion of something.

Here are the portobello mushrooms…

I trimmed them a bit and cut out the stem (or whatever the middle part is called).

For the stuffing, I used spinach, sage, garlic, shallots, mushrooms, the trimmed bits of the portobellos, salt, and pepper.  

I have a mini food processor, but it sort of sucks and I couldn’t get it to work at all that day so I decided to blend everything (in my blender) with a bit of water, then squeeze the water out in a clean kitchen towel.

Here’s what the stuffing looked like when I squeezed all the water out:

I know, it was already so appetizing I’m not sure how I carried on without eating it all!

I split the stuffing into two parts.  To one part, I added cooked pork sausages (for Simon), and to the other part I added more mushrooms, because I’m new at vegetarianism and don’t know what all my options are yet.

I brushed the outside of the portobellos with not-enough olive oil (whoops),   

then stuffed the mushrooms.

I decided to sprinkle some breadcrumbs on top.  I think I was bored.  

(I drizzled the breadcrumbs with a little olive oil so they wouldn’t burn.)

Then I baked the mushrooms for awhile.  Specific, I know.  If I had kept a closer eye on them, I would have known to baste them with some more olive oil so they didn’t get all wrinkly and pathetic looking.  It’s ok though! *embarrassed laughter*

I also added a bit of parmesan cheese on top and melted it under the broiler.

I served it with some roasted broccoli (which I love, love, love) and a slice of homemade bread with some balsamic vinegar.

I like making meals like this, using only what I already know rather than following a recipe.  It helps me learn and understand why certain things don’t work.  I eventually want to be the type of person that can go to the farmer’s market or grocery store without a list, buy what “looks good”, and make a delicious meal out of those things… using only my brain!

I figured these mushrooms wouldn’t turn out perfect, but the real place I messed up was not cooking the stuffer mushrooms in some butter or olive oil first.  I think Simon’s mushroom was decent because the pork sausages added enough rich heftiness.  Mine tasted like rabbit food.  Like when you attempt to eat lettuce all by itself, with no dressing or olive oil or lemon juice or hummus or cheeseburger on it.

When I follow a recipe and a meal turns out well, I don’t always feel like I’ve learned anything because I don’t know why it turned out well.

That said, take a look at that slice of bread (the thing on the plate that looks like biscotti). No lie, every loaf of bread I have made has turned out almost exactly the same as that.  Sooo dense!  I had high hopes for that loaf because I had just spent a good amount of time in a forum discussing bread making and had substantially tweaked my technique.  Nope, still the same dense brick as always.

That doesn’t mean Simon and I didn’t eat it.  Even dense homemade bread is still homemade bread, you know? 

Lately I’ve been eating an increasingly vegetarian diet.  I used to eat meat at least once a day.  Then I tried to implement “Meatless Mondays” because, Simon, it’s better for the planet and all.  The more I paid attention to the state of the food industry, the more I cared about how much meat I bought and ate.  (Not trying to act holier than thou, promise.)

As it stands now, I’ve only eaten meat once in the past 10 days.  And when I did eat that meat, it didn’t taste as good as it used to.  

I’m sort of excited to see how long this lasts, because this isn’t something I’m “trying” to do (avoid meat).  It’s just how my taste has changed over the past couple of months.  And I’ve been having fun finding vegetarian things that I enjoy eating.  I haven’t found myself missing anything yet, I guess because I’m not a ‘real’ vegetarian, so meat isn’t off limits anyway.

Last week I decided it was time to jump on the quinoa bandwagon.  This recipe made me think it might actually be good. 

And it was.  The perfect healthy, filling, vegetarian lunch (for a week!).  Oh, and it’s so easy.

The mise en place includes quinoa, clean vegetables (carrots, baby corn, broccoli, spinach, peas, leeks, onion, garlic), drained and rinsed chickpeas, and lemons.  Not pictured- salt, pepper, olive oil.

As per package instructions, I rinsed the quinoa first.  

I brought a pot of salted water to a boil, dumped the quinoa in, covered the pot, and reduced the heat.

I softened the garlic and onion in a little olive oil, then gently stir fried the vegetables until they were tender.

When the quinoa was cooked, I fluffed it up and added it to the mix.

I dressed it simply with a good drizzle of olive oil, and the juice from one very juicy lemon.  

And I salted it.

And I peppered it.

And that’s it.

When I was 11 or 12, my mom asked me to cook some spinach to go with dinner.  The water was already boiling in the pot, and the box of frozen spinach was already sitting on the counter.  My mom told me to just follow the directions on the box.  It was boil-in-a-bag spinach, and the directions on the box said something like “Do not open package, place entire package in boiling water.”  

I re-read the directions over and over again, and ultimately decided that although it sounded weird, I should just drop the cardboard box into the pot.  So I did.  I watched worriedly as the cardboard box wrinkled up and began to tear apart in the bubbling water.  

Then my mom came into the kitchen and burst out laughing.

She showed me the bag of spinach that was inside the box and I was pretty embarrassed.  It said not to open the package, so how was I to know what was inside?

You know when you read the directions on, say, a box of Pop Tarts, and think “Who is dumb enough to not know how to toast a freakin’ Pop Tart?”

Well, maybe an 11 or 12 year old girl is too dumb, that’s who!

Kitchen confidence is a fickle thing for me.  Even though I haven’t boiled any cardboard boxes in my adult life, I have made some really stupid cooking mistakes.  And when I do, it’s easy to be all “I AM THE WORST COOK EVER!  Do not eat that, lest it poison you!”  Also, the memory of my stupid mistakes undermines my non-stupid non-mistakes.

When I sat down to write this post, I realized that I’ve been (sorta) sous-videing chicken breast for a long time.  Sous-vide is a cooking technique I’ve admired for years (initially because of this blog).  That said, I didn’t think I had the skill to sous-vide at home without fancy equipment.  Realizing now that I already sorta sous-vide things gives me a bit of cooking confidence.  Maybe I’ll finally tackle one of those complicated recipes in The French Laundry cookbook!

Not right now though.  Now is just about a sandwich.  

To sorta sous-vide the chicken and turkey breasts, I first bought chicken and turkey breasts.

I seasoned them with salt and pepper, and wrapped them tightly in cling film.

I placed them in a heavy-duty Ziploc bag.  

I tried my best to press all the air out, then placed the bag in a pot of not-quite-simmering water.  I used the pestle from my molcajete to weigh the bag down and keep it submerged.

Next, I prepped stuff.  I chopped some cucumbers.

Celery.

Scallions.

Red onion (I soaked it in cold water for a few minutes to cut the intense raw onion taste).

Parsley.

I cooked the chicken and turkey for 90 minutes, or maybe even 2 hours.  I know it doesn’t look like much when it comes out of the bag, but it is much.  The chicken and turkey are so juicy and perfect for sandwiches.  The texture of the meat is denser than normal, making it easy to slice very thinly.  Since this was for chicken (and turkey) salad, I just chopped it up.

Chopping the chicken and turkey also helped it cool down very quickly.  I added it to the bowl of prepped veggies and stuck the whole thing in the fridge to cool down even more.  

Meanwhile, I put some thick bacon slices in the oven to crisp up.  

When the chicken and turkey were adequately cooled, I put the salad together.  I used fresh lemon juice, 

dijon mustard, 

mayonnaise, 

and salt and pepper to taste.

Then I stirred everything up.

Finally, I made the sandwiches.

Simon yanked the sandwich away before I could take any more pictures of it.

The only thing that wasn’t great about it was the bread.  It would have been better on something more crusty on the outside and soft on the inside.

The weather in Dubai has been awesome this year.  Here we are, well into April, and it’s still not unbearably hot.  It’s wonderful!  Just last month we had a few chilly days that warranted soup making!  Simon requested tomato soup, so I used a recipe that was in my Cooking Light magazine.

It was good soup.  The only thing I’ll change next time I make this is to use Pomi boxed tomatoes rather than canned tomatoes.  I think the soup had an ever-so-slightly metallic taste to it.  I usually use the Pomi boxed tomatoes and I think that has made me detect metallic taste in other tomatoes when I didn’t use to notice.  Oh, and it helps that Pomi products are way cheaper here than they are on Amazon.  I’m already planning on stocking up for when we ship our stuff back to the US one day.

For the soup I used inferior canned chopped tomatoes, a white onion, plenty of basil, garlic, 1/3 less fat cream cheese, milk, salt and pepper.  I also toasted up bread with parmesan cheese on top, re: dipping purposes.

I thought this basil was extra special because I found a nice big bunch of it at Park-n-Shop.  All I usually find are limp basil plants that inevitably die within a week, and plastic trays containing a few sad basil leaves.

First, I prepped by dicing the onion, chopping the garlic, and chiffonading (not a word.  huh.) the basil, making sure to reserve a few leaves for garnish.

Lucky for me, Grey’s Anatomy has yet to throw a plot twist capable of distracting me enough to slice my fingers off.  So I can safety watch it whilst cooking!  Remembering that the real hospital isn’t full of hottie doctors helps me stay safe with my knives.  Plus I’m always safe with my knives.  Well, I try.

I heated up some olive oil and added the onion.

Then went the garlic, 

and later the basil.

A gave it a stir and added the tomatoes.

Stir, stir, stir…

Next, a nice scoop of cream cheese joined in.

I blended the soup and returned it to the heat. 

I added some milk to thin the soup out a little, 

then seasoned everything with salt and pepper to taste.

I thought about roasting garlic to make a real super garlic bread to go with the soup, but I didn’t think about it until it was too late (probably because I was watching Grey’s Anatomy instead of thinking about things).  Instead I drizzled the bread with a little olive oil and rubbed a garlic clove over it.  Then I topped it with soft, finely grated parmesan cheese and toasted it under the broiler. 

 English people call the broiler the “grill”.  That initially confused me.  As usual.

Da-done-done.

The sun done.  Yep, the sun done.  Came up a bit but we still up in the dungeon.

And, chorus.

(Oh, we just had to kill it

we on the radio hotter than a skillet

we in the club making party people holla

money in the bank means we getting top dollar

I’m a big baller

you a little smaller

step up to my level you need to grow a little taller

I’m a shot caller

get up off my collar

you are chiuaua I’m a rottweiler…)

I’ve been with Simon for four and a half years, and he still manages to use Cockney rhyming slang that confuses me.  If he says something has gone “Pete Tong”, he means it’s gone wrong.  That’s an easy one.  The confusing thing to me about rhyming slang is that often times people will only use the non-rhyming word.  Simon, for example, might say he’d like a Ruby.  He means a Ruby Murray, which is a curry.

Now, I’m guessing that Simon uses obscure Cockney rhyming slang just to confuse me.  A lot of the times I have fun trying to guess what he’s talking about.  ”Brown bread… … … He’s DEAD!  Yaaay!  Oh.”  Other times I just shoot him dirty looks for not talking like a human being.

My lazy research on Pete Tong and Ruby Murray suggests that Cockney rhyming slang need not have anything to do with the person, it need only rhyme.  Pete Tong didn’t do anything horribly wrong, and Ruby Murray wasn’t some sort of curry genius.  So if your name rhymes with a word, I suggest not acquiring any fame, lest your name be used to describe that word.  This would be especially sad for Sue Bloop and Donald Kart, both of whom are hopefully fictional.

I don’t remember eating a single curry before I moved to the desert.  My first experiences with curry come from an authentic Indian restaurant in Abu Dhabi, and a homemade curry made by Simon’s friend Lian (who is now my friend Lian, hi Lian!).  Both burned my face off.

I’ve found that coconut-based curries like Thai green curry are the safest bet for me.  They still pack some decent spice, but the coconut milk cools them down enough that my face is not actually burned off.

For my Thai green curry I used white onion, green beans, peas, and garlic.  

And chicken.  I poached two small chickens, then removed the meat.  I used the meat for the curry and the poaching liquid and the leftover carcasses to make stock.

I also used fresh basil, lime zest, and ginger. 

(THERE IS A HAIR ON MY HAND.  ALWAYS.  I’M GOING TO SHAVE MY HEAD.)

I parboiled some halved fingerling potatoes and cooked some Thai jasmine rice.

After prepping everything, I started by cooking the curry paste for a few minutes, then adding the coconut milk. I attempted to make my own curry paste for a chicken curry once before, and it sucked.  So this time I used jarred Thai green curry paste.  

Then it was just a matter of throwing all the prepped stuff into the pot.  I cooked everything together (on a light simmer) for about 30 minutes or so, until the green beans and potatoes were tender.

I also added some coconut cream to the rice.

That was it!

How was it?  I don’t know, I didn’t eat any.  Ever lose your appetite after spending a long time in the kitchen?  Looking at these pictures now makes me hope it was good, otherwise Simon and Brian had to choke down a lot of curry.

I zoned out after I typed that title and started wondering all sorts of things about salisbury steak.  I like to guess the answers before heading over to the ol’ Wikipedia, because it’s fun!  I guessed that salisbury steak might be a food that originated in Salisbury.  I thought Salisbury sounded like some place in England, and it is!  But, I was wrong.  Salisbury steak was invented by James Salisbury, a 19th century doctor who apparently thought vegetables and starches were enemies to health.

This is what the Internet is for!  Learning things that do not make you feel any smarter afterwards!

I love salisbury steak with mashed potatoes and green vegetables.  (Sorry, James.)  I make mine with canned cream of mushroom soup.  I’ll be honest, it rarely looks pretty by the time I’m done cooking it.  I poke the steaks impatiently to see if they’re done cooking and they end up falling apart, and that’s ok with me.

For the steaks I used minced beef, Worcestershire sauce (ugh, I thought I finally learned how to spell that, but my first 4 attempts weren’t even close enough for my computer to guess what I was trying to say!), dried basil, oregano, and marjoram, dried “Italian style” bread crumbs, minced garlic, chopped onion, salt, pepper, mushrooms, and a small glob of condensed cream of mushroom soup. 

(“Glob” does not deter me from making and eating salisbury steak.)

Then I made Simon mix everything together because the meat was real cold.  I can’t remember if I tricked him into mixing it “so I could take pictures” or not.

I formed patties and started cooking them in a hot skillet with a little canola oil.

I’m still not sure how to use my green Lodge enamel cast-iron skillet in conjunction with my crappiest-of-stoves stove.  It’s tricky to get the right temperature and to get the heat to spread evenly.  I should have let the skillet heat up longer so the heat would distribute more evenly around the skillet, but then I think it would have been too hot.  If I turned the heat down and let it heat up longer, it would take SO LONG.  I know it’s bad, but sometimes I leave a skillet on medium-low heat to heat up while I walk the dog so I can make her an egg when I get back in… Because my “Camp-O-Matic” cooker takes that long to heat up.

I did at least try to care more about the appearance of the salisbury steaks this time, since I was taking pictures with intent to blog.  My stove and skillet did not help me there.

The middle of the skillet was way hotter than the outside of the skillet.  I blame myself.  And that freaking stove, as per tradition.

No matter!

After flipping the steaks, I added some cream of mushroom soup to the pan, then some milk to thin the soup out.

I know it looks gross, but it’s not gross.  It just looks that way, much like your face.

April Fool’s!  Your face isn’t gross!  

Oh, that was yesterday…

I let the steaks cook through in the soup while I mashed some potatoes and roasted some broccoli and haricot verts.

Look how big my potato masher is!

To make things look extra gross, I added some of the cream of mushroom soup to the potatoes.

Oh, and the salisbury steaks had all but completely fallen apart by this point.  You can hardly distinguish the “steak” from the pile of mashed potatoes.

Simon was not impressed.  

I was though.  I know how not to judge a book by its cover.  Although, that is a pretty ugly cover, if I do say so myself.

There was this taco place in Thailand that was amazing.  Just type “delicious” into a thesaurus and read all those words.  Guess what?  All those words apply to these tacos.

Hahaha… I really do amuse myself.

Also, I had to pause for a second to think about how weird it is that it was my first instinct to say “type” delicious into a thesaurus.  Will this next generation even know how to look things up alphabetically???  Have fun with that conversation starter today.  You’re welcome.

Ok, I think I’m done with my inevitable cooking blog tangent and am now ready to talk about this taco place again.  These tacos were toothsome.  They were sapid.  They were good.  (Remember when Ross teaches Joey how to use a thesaurus and then he uses it to replace every word on Monica and Chandler’s adoption recommendation letter?  Sorry.)

On our second or third visit to this place, I tried to detect what flavors were happening that produced such an ambrosial taco.  

I detected coconut in the sour cream, which I have to say surprised me.  I think I was impressed that I was able to “figure out” what something tasted like by concentrating a little.  I was pretty bad at blind taste tests as a kid.  (Natalie, I’m sorry about that one time I fed you a tablespoon of flour and you almost died.)  Not that I’m giving myself too much credit, I mean coconut is a pretty pronounced flavor.

I also detected tropical fruit in the salsa.  Ok, ok… I could see tropical fruit in the salsa.

I memorized that there was coconut in the sour cream and tropical fruit in the salsa.  I didn’t even have to write it down because it was locked safely in my brain.  (Impressed?) Then, a couple of weeks ago, it started to feel warm here in Dubai, and that made me want to make something warm-weather appropriate.  

And that is when I accessed that stuff I memorized.

Tomatoes, red onion, mango, papaya, pineapple, lemon and lime juice, and cilantro (coriander) made for some pretty damn good salsa.

I was impressed by how red and juicy this tomato was!

And I verbalized that… right before saying something douchey about how “nothing” compares to a ripe Florida tomato and Simon, did you know I used to eat ripe tomatoes straight off the vine?  My great grandmother grew them, did you know that?  And then Simon’s eyes glaze over because he’s had to listen to that story every time I’ve chopped a tomato in the last four and half years.

(This is not the right way to cut a mango.)

Sometimes Géant sells cool stuff.  Like turkey legs or huge roasting chickens.

Julia Child complained that American supermarkets didn’t sell big roasting chickens.  I don’t remember if I heard her say that on her show, or read it in one of her books.  (If you want to find out, I suggest you just watch every episode of The French Chef and read every book she ever wrote.  Worth it.)

Dubai supermarkets don’t usually sell sizable roasting chickens, either.  At least not in my experience.  Every time I buy a stupid small whole chicken from the store, I understand Julia Child’s frustration.  Roasted chicken is delicious!  Why not cook a 6-pound bird for a casual Sunday dinner?

Or, in my case… Why not roast a whole chicken so you can use the meat in salads and sandwiches throughout the week?

My big chicken was less than $10.

I roasted it very simply.

1. Leave it out, uncovered, in the fridge for a day or two (or three) to dry the skin out.
2. Sprinkle the skin with a little salt and pepper, and coat in olive oil (or butter).
3. Salt the inside of the bird very liberally.  I use about a handful of salt, just on the inside.
4. Use a meat thermometer to cook it perfectly.

(Spot Beesly’s egg.)

     5. Clean oven.  (Optional)

That’s it!

I cooked this many weeks ago, before my blogging hiatus… So I can’t tell you why I left the neck intact.  Nor can I tell you if that thingy in the picture is indeed a chicken quill I missed.  I’m going to be honest, it looks that way.

Do you see it?