Xan: Assorted pics

I am dreadfully overdue for a food update.  But I am also dreadfully overdue for bed.  So here are a few pictures from months ago, to hold you over.


Pac-Man meets pulled pork:

These go very well together, maybe I'll make it into a thing.  Cornbread pork sandwiches?

Also, apples. And maple syrup and barbecue sauce, courtesy of Anne!

Actually we started eating a lot of cornbread.

Sometimes Catherine complains about chili, but I learned that she doesn't complain if there's cornbread.

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Next up, here is Catherine's muffins with Linden's granola:

And here is a photo titled, The Lean Tower of Papa:

Incidentally, here is one titled, A Sight: Four Sore Eyes:

I don't know who comes up with these titles...

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Next up: Adventures in sous-vide and pressure cooking!

Xan: Roast Chicken with Spaghetti Squash. It's magically delicious!

Wouldn't it be amazing if we lived in a world where you could cut a squash in half and find this:

Unfortunately, plants haven't quite mastered pseudo-meat yet.  Even when they're trying to be eaten, at best they are sweet, not meat.  Or maybe nature is just messing with us.  Maybe the carrion flower is nature's way of saying, "Well...we can make meat grow on trees...but instead we're just going to torture you."

Well if nature won't lend a hand, we'll just have to do it ourselves.

Or not.  It really depends who you are.

Like Maru box cat, Catherine loves the white meat.  And like Maru, she doesn't have to lift a paw to get it.  From her perspective, this world is observationally equivalent to one in which you could cut open a squash and magically find chicken.

What magic is this?

Actually, that's not quite true.  Catherine doesn't even have to cut the squash. In fact, I would go so far as to say that she can't cut the squash.  For this mighty task requires a mighty tool.  Behold, Mewlnir the Mouse Hammer!

Take heed, for I am called many things.  The Bane of Bones.  The Crusher of Cutting Boards. The Squasher of Squashes. The cabinets will quake when I am unsheathed. Lo, my gleam will slice through the air and you will know that I am come.  You will know me then by my One True Name.  Fear me!  I am Mewlnir the Mouse Hammer,  the Destroyer of All Things.

With a name such as Mewlnir, you will surely want a backstory, and here at Vongsafood we sure do love our utterly foodless and completely superfluous Vongsatangents!

A Tale of Two Tangents.  

It was the best of tangents, it was the worst of tangents.  Depending who you ask, it was either a really good or a really bad idea for Kathleen to get a cat.  Is there a Schroedinger joke in there somewhere, or not?  Two things are known: first, that Dad would prefer the cat dead and nameless, and second, that Kathleen would prefer the cat alive and, well, named, but not necessarily well-named.  

When Kathleen got a cat, she solicited name suggestions.  Dad's only comment was:

It doesn't deserve to be named, but in order to avoid the whole Love
Symbol: "Cat formerly known as It" awkwordity, I will refer to it as
Scrod.

I, on the other hand, offered literally dozens of excellent suggestions for cat names.  From the Periodic Table alone, I generated so many good ones: Fluoraline. Chloraline. Mrs. Iodine! Mrs. Dr. Iodine! Beryllia. Zinc.

Yet somehow she rejected those.  So I looked to my pantry and Greek mythology.  Parslephone!  Shallothalia!  Thymelpomene! Paprikat!  All rejected.  It seems that Kathleen has no taste, although in retrospect I clearly should have suggested something spicy.  Death Stalker? Ghost in the Darkness?

Next I tried dinosaurs (because...dinosaurs!), but to no avail.  Deinonycat, Pterodacatyl, Quetzalcatlus, and more, all extinct before they even had a proper chance.

What about candy?  Everyone likes candy!  I know Kathleen likes candy.  Kitkat?  Snickers? Mrs. Goodpurr?? Jaffa Cat?!?

Alas, no dice.  It was time to weaponize.  Cats are always trying to stick people with their claws, so...Felis Cactus!  Come on, that's great!  Or might she prefer a karate cat?  I know Kathleen likes Harry Potter, so what about Mrs. Chuck Norris?  Such a cat would even come equipped with Mrs. Chuck Norris facts.  Mrs. Chuck Norris is the reason Waldo is hiding.  When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Mrs. Chuck Norris.  There is no Theory of Evolution; just a list of animals Mrs. Chuck Norris allows to live.

No?  Why ever not?!?

And so we come to my last, best, and most desperate suggestion.  A name never to be used lightly.  A name so powerful that time seems to slow whenever it is uttered.  I am referring, of course, to Mewlnir the Mouse Hammer.  The power! The glory!  Can you hear it?  Can you hear the sound of all the world's mice collectively squeaking in terror?

And so, naturally, she named her cat Grace.  

I think we can agree that "Grace" is what you name your cat if you want it to throw little mouse tea parties and ice cream socials.

Anyway, how Kathleen rejected this frankly awesome cat name, I will never know.  What I do know is that after she did, I was free to claim it for my meat cleaver.  And I don't know how "Grace" is working out for her, but I can tell you that Mewlnir is doing a fine job in my kitchen.

Though my kitchen is a black box from which delicious dinners magically emerge, it is nevertheless full of Catherine's Mickey Mouse plates and Mickey Mouse hot pads and Mickey Mouse pizza cutters.  

So. Many. Mickeys.

But in this sea of Mickeys, one tool rises above the rest.  When the Mouse Hammer comes out to play, the pantry rattles with the fear of all things.  The mice go into hiding, and sanity is restored, if only for a time.

A mighty tool requires a mighty wielder, and only I am mighty enough to wield Mewlnir.  Which is why, as I said 2 hours ago, Catherine cannot cut squash.

[A cleaver is excellent for cutting big things like squash, because it can be halfway through and the top of the cleaver is still sticking well out of the squash.  That means you can whack it right on top, right in the center, and keep driving it through.  A thinner knife gets a couple inches into the squash and then what do you do?  Apply force from the handle?  Good luck.  Maybe put another hand on tip of the knife, sticking out the other side of the squash?  Have fun with that.  By the way, your knife is now stuck in a giant, dense squash.  Furthermore, the deeper you are able to cut, the more stuck it will be, when you eventually have to give up and try a different angle.  Whatever you do, it will not be safe.  Anyway, I'm sure even you, a devoted tiny-print-reader, are tired of hearing about Mewlnir.  Which is a shame, because Mewlnir is awesome.  Mewlnir Mewlnir Mewlnir.]

Nevertheless, though Catherine cannot cut squash, she can still eat this:

Technically this one is mine, as our contract specifies that Catherine gets all the white meat.

Because, as we have established, magic.  It's just chicken, spaghetti squash, carrots, and sweet potatoes.  The chicken has paprika, chili powder, brown sugar, salt, and pepper, and everything else has...chicken. I mean, pan drippings.  Yep, that's about it.  Nothing fancy, but magically delicious!  You can't really go wrong here, which is a lie, but I like the way it sounds.

Using sophisticated econometric methods, I estimate that our relationship is at least 80% magic, of which only about 10% falls in the kitchen.  It's fortunate there is so much magic to go around, because there are Mickeys in all the other rooms as well. Aaaaaaaaaah!

Goodnight everyone!  And see you at the wedding!  I'm going to bed now, which is a lie, but I like the way it sounds...

Xan, Catherine, and Kathleen: Turning up the Heat!

[We break radio silence to bring you this special edition of Vongsafood.  In today's episode, we chronicle one family member's lifelong quest to conquer Spice Mountain. Also, Pizza Madness -- that's making you mad with pizza.  And what does a hedgehog have to do with pie? All this and more on today's episode of Vongsafood!]

The rest of this post will not, however, sound like NPR.

Kathleen came to visit us in Chicago last weekend!  As you are no doubt aware, it is a very good idea to hide the spicies before Kathleen arrives. Unfortunately, things were just a little too hectic on Friday and I missed this crucial hosting step.

So, Dad, I apologize in advance for what you are about to witness.  I just screwed up, and I take full responsibility.  Do not blame Kathleen!  She is basically not a player character where spicy is concerned.  Whatever control she may have in other areas of her life, when food arrives in front of her, the spicy subroutine kicks in and takes over.  It goes like this:

1. This food is not spicy enough. 
2. I must apply spice until the food is spicy enough.
3. This bottle does not dispense spice fast enough.
4. I must remove the lid so the bottle dispenses spice fast enough.
5. I must shake the bottle harder to increase the rate of spicing.
6. I must not stop shaking until spice has attained supermajority status.
7. Spice has attained supermajority status and now controls the spicing vote on plate.
8. Request further spicing instructions. Food plate constituents: Please advise.
9. Spice supermajority has voted for More Spice.  Executing request.
10. Food is no longer visible beneath Spice Mountain. Finally, it is time to eat!
11. My mouth is on fire.  It burns so good.
12. [Cough! Gasp! Wheeze!]
13. Note to self: Inferior airways still not robust to atmospheric conditions at top of Spice Mountain.  Training regimen must continue.

I cannot emphasize enough that these steps just happen.  Sometimes Kathleen doesn't even like it that much, but she has to do it because eating ultra spice is part of her identity.  There is nothing to be done, except stand back and watch with some combination of awe, amusement, and terror.  In what follows, I document a few of these moments for posterity.

Here Kathleen has just executed Step 4:

Red pepper flakes in full pour mode.

And here is Step 5 in action.  Dear reader, please do not try this at home.  A bottle of red pepper flakes with lid removed should never be shaken vigorously enough to produce motion blur:

As you can see, here we are just starting to lose sight of the People's Pepperoni Party.  This is an important step on the road to attaining a 100% Spice Approval Rating from all visible food constituents, and as such it forms the very foundation of Spice Mountain in Steps 9 and 10.

The individual steps of the subroutine are practiced and automatic, and as such they pass by quickly.  But I was also able to capture the precise moment of Step 12 at Dim Sum the next day:

This is her second dish of chili sauce. She has decided to drop all pretense and simply put it on her plate.

Anyway, you might think that next time I will be more careful to hide my red pepper flakes.  However, you would be wrong.  Your mistake is to presume that I still have any left. 

What a rookie mistake!  Do you even know Kathleen?  The more experienced among you are more likely thinking, "But Xan! So far you've only discussed a single bottle of red pepper flakes and a couple dishes of chili sauce in Chinatown.  Kathleen was there for 3 days!  What happened the rest of the time?"

Pepper Palace is what happened.  Kathleen discovered Pepper Palace.

Kathleen gleefully displays her spoils.

Inside the bag: Ghost in the Darkness, Pain 100%, Death Stalker, and two more monstrosities I can't remember the names of.  This kept Kathleen busy -- and my hot sauce reserves safe -- for the rest of the weekend.

Of course, Kathleen also travels everywhere with at least one bottle of her own personal hot sauce.  Don't mess!  She's always packing heat.  Someone should probably get her a holster.

*

Okay, can we talk about actual food?  There was actually food, somewhere, underneath all the spice.

Is this pizza one quarter cheese or three quarters pepperoni.  It depends...are you an optimist or a pessimist?

Kathleen really wanted deep dish, being in Chicago and all, but I refused to make it, and she was pretty happy with this pizza instead.  Because it is so delicious, of course.

In principle this pizza can be very easy to make but I amped it up and it is now more of a maximally delicious pizza than a maximally convenient pizza.  On top of the dough, we have tomato puree, salt, pepper, oregano, basil, paprika, caramelized onions, sundried tomatoes, cheese, pepperoni, and panko bread crumbs.  (Of course I had my own cheeseless one).

That said, it can be done with as little as half an hour of active labor, if you know all of Xan's secrets of timesavingness.

Kathleen really liked this pizza.  In fact, as is her custom, she "praised" it by favorably comparing it to my past "failures."  "You didn't used to make pizzas like this!" she said.  It is always about my what a long way I've come.   However, in this case she completely failed to negate her compliment, because she compared this pizza to my pulled pork pizza, and we know how certain members of the family feel about that one.  So there! I'll take it!

You know what else? Why does everyone in the family always have to say things like, "Don't you dare tell Linden, but this pizza is the best!"  Relax, Kathleen, why would I ever tell Linden you said that?  She would just be mad at both of us.  Especially you, since you're the one who said it and also you forgot her birthday.  And the rest of you lot: I get it, okay?  Mom, I agree it's best if Linden thinks you "like all of your children's pizza equally."  And Dad, I would never reveal that you bestowed upon my pulled pork pizza the highest culinary compliment you are capable of giving, namely the suggestion that I should drop out of school (i.e. fail to graduate) and make pizza instead.  The point is, I think I'm old enough to keep a secret.  Relax, everyone.

And Linden, you too! Don't blame Kathleen for forgetting your birthday.  Unlike me, she does not have a foolproof organizational system for remembering these things.  She relies on her far superior elephantine memory, which means she always remembers your birthday, she just doesn't necessarily remember that it is currently your birthday.  Also, what do you want for your birthday?  I did not want to ruin your birthday by asking.

See?  See how considerate I am?

I feel like I'm five steps ahead of you people.  I know what you're probably thinking right now: Gee, I really, really hope Linden doesn't read this post...because then she would have to think of something for Xan to get her for her birthday.

No no no. You are totally missing the point.  Linden does not want anything for her birthday, but she also doesn't want to be forgotten.  She wants to be asked but doesn't want to have to answer.  So because I am a genius, I have found a way to ask her without making it common knowledge between us that she has been asked, which means she never has to admit she has been asked, even though she has, and thus she never has to answer. (Unless she actually wants to, in which case she can).

And because I am a double genius, she can also never complain about any of the other content of this post without making it common knowledge that she has been asked and therefore has to answer.  More specifically, she can never complain to me.  She can make all your lives super difficult, but the beauty of it is that I never have to live with any of it.  And that, my friends, is called treble genius, because it does treble damages.

*

Speaking of pizza and Linden and her birthday, when I talked to her on her birthday, she suggested that I replace half of my bread flour with whole wheat flour in my pizzas.  So I tried it, and the results were pretty good!

It's denser than my usual dough, but not that much, and overall I was surprised at just how well it behaved.  It definitely had that whole wheat flavor, and reminded me a bit too much of bread in some bites, but I will definitely be repeating.

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Coming back to Kathleen, I will be in big trouble if I don't mention how good this pie was!  Kathleen and Catherine made a chocolate pecan pie. How good? Really good!

Kathleen said multiple times that the pie was "for me." Somehow her eyes told a different story...

"I wish Xan weren't so attentive. Also, this pie is not spicy enough."

You can also see a gratuitous magic bar on my plate.  Just because.

AND look at this hedgehog cookie cutter she got me!  In the background you can even glimpse a second hedgehog cookie cutter in huff-and-puff mode:

Mmm, delicious pie!

We don't have a lot of cookie cutters, but I don't see the purpose of keeping the rest of them at this point.  I can scarcely imagine a scenario where replacing your cookie cutters with hedgehogs wouldn't automatically improve the outcome.

Linden: Granola Recipe

When I lived in Cambridge, it was freezing and the best way to stay warm on the weekends without heating guilt was to cook; I wasn’t eating a lot of processed food and I had a lot of free time on the weekends so I did a lot of tweaking of a granola recipe from TheKitchenSink.

And now, Mama has been ironing out her breakfast regime, and has moved towards what is apparently a Swiss breakfast, which I think should involve Cuckoo clocks but apparently just involves yogurt. And I had just made a batch, so Kathleen granola-muled some home to Mama on the way to some conference.

Here’s my version of the recipe – basically the same as the original minus the refined sugars (original recipe here: http://thekitchensinkrecipes.com/2008/08/29/when-the-mountains-call/)

Be warned, it makes your kitchen smell amazing. (...no pictures, because I sent it all to Mama.)

 

Cherry-Almond Granola

4 cups rolled oats
1/2 cup coconut flakes, unsweeteend
3 tablespoons flax seeds (or whatever you have, I am currently using linseed)
3 tablespoons sesame seeds
1/4 cup sunflower or pumpkin seeds
1/2 cup almonds, chopped, plus 2 tablespoons whole almonds
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 cup canola oil
2 tablespoons agave nectar
1 tablespoon honey (optional – it makes the granola stick together.)
1 tablespoon almond extract
2 cups dried cherries (make sure that there’s no added sugar)

Preheat the oven to 375. Line a rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil. In a large bowl, combine all the ingredients except the dried fruit. Stir well to incorporate.

Spread the mixture on the prepared baking sheet, spreading it out into an even layer. Bake for 20 to 30 minutes (depending on the depth of goldenness you’re looking for), stirring every 10 minutes.

Remove the granola from the oven and and cool completely, in its pan, on a wire wrack. Once the granola is cool, mix in the dried cherries.

 

Jenny: English muffins!

Mom sends this photo of her English muffins!

Me wanty!

They look like a cross between American buttermilk biscuits and English muffins, i.e. way better than English muffins.  We need a new name for these.  Biscuimuffins?  Vongsamuffins?

Actually, maybe this is the way English muffins are supposed to be.  I kind of assumed the English muffin was a bad take on a regular American muffin, just like the English doughnut is a bad version of the American donut.  But it could go in reverse.  Maybe Americans can create good foods out of bad English foods.

I am not going to bother checking any of the relevant food history to support my theory. Instead, let us simply agree that, whatever the case may be, this is far better than the alternative where American and English foods get Frenchified.


(Why must everyone french their lamb racks?!?  STOP!  STOP IT!  That stuff is delicious!)

(And toad in the hole definitely should not croak...)

Xan: Cheeeeese?

Hello folks,

Do any of you have trouble with your cheeses molding and if so what do you do about it?  For instance, I would like to shred lots of mozzarella all at once and not have to shred it each time I need some.  But then it gets moldy and I can't cut off the outside of every shred.  Can you freeze cheese?  Or how should it be stored?

As far as cooking goes, cheese is an unusual ingredient for me: I use it frequently enough but it is never for my own consumption, and so I never actually taste the results of my cheesings, and so I never know what to do differently next time.  When I started cooking, I used to complain if I had to touch cheese, which seems pretty silly in retrospect.  It was probably just an excuse to complain.  On the other hand, many people are grossed out by the mere sight of meat, even though meat is great while milk products are the devil.

Xan: Weighing the benefits of kitchen scales. Also, cookies.

In the kitchen I prefer work first, reward second.  I go to great lengths to avoid making things dirty because I don't want to have to clean them up later!  When possible, I do manual prep work up front, rather than using a kitchen machine (even if it's much quicker and easier) that I then have to clean.  Even if it takes less total time to clean the machine than it took to do the manual prep work, I prefer to do the work first and get my reward second.

That may seem odd.  But if I do the work first, it's just part of the cooking.  If I do it second, it becomes a chore I have to force myself to do now instead of later.

Sometimes I will fail and procrastinate, making a bad situation worse.  But even when I succeed in forcing myself to clean in a timely fashion, it's still worse than if I didn't have to force myself.  Just as, even if you successfully exert the willpower to abstain from an unhealthy slice of chocolate cake, you are still worse off than if the cake didn't exist to tempt you in the first place.  Exerting willpower is costly.  Making yourself do things now instead of later is draining.  So I avoid it when I reasonably can.

I would rather clean a knife right before I use it than right after, even though it would seem to take the same amount of effort in the naive view of things.  In either case, you have a clean knife while you're using it, which is the only time it really needs to be clean.  Unfortunately, your cohabitant may prefer the knife to be clean the rest of the time as well.

This explains why I often make the seemingly odd decision to do things manually that "should" be done a more modern and efficient way.  My most preferred cleaning method by far is to not make things dirty in the first place!

You can roll your eyes all you want -- and probably would, if you saw the lengths I've gone to in order to avoid the food processor -- but I know how my brain works.  As cooking goes from a hobby to a regular routine, even small differences in costliness start to dominate my decisions of what to make and which pans to use.  I pretty much don't care how much work a dish is the first time I make it, because making new things is exciting.  But by the 10th time, it's just not happening if there's something annoying about its preparation.

And so, to the title of this post.  The kitchen scale has become one of my favorite kitchen tools.  It doesn't get dirty by use; to the contrary, it is a substitute for getting things dirty.  It strictly dominates using measuring cups, because it is faster, more precise, and doesn't get anything dirty.

I make pizza dough maybe once a week.  This involves a bowl, a fork, and a scale.  That's it.  I put the bowl on the scale, pour the ingredients right out of their containers by weight, and mix it up with a fork.  It's 5 ingredients: flour, salt, yeast, water, olive oil.  The mixing takes like 15 seconds.  It's so easy that adding measuring cups and spoons would easily double the amount of prep work involved.  And then I would have to wash them!  Even if it was just a rinse to get the flour or yeast off, the measuring cups just might sit there on the counter to be dealt with later.  Ugh.

In fairness, it's a no-knead dough so then I have to wait till the next day to use it.  But that's not the kind of procrastination problem I have.  Personally, I have no trouble cooking ahead, I only have trouble cleaning ahead (I hate cleaning, but I like making dough, so why would I put it off?).  Your mileage may vary.  My approach in the kitchen is not for everyone, but it works for me.

Every so often I buy a sack of onions from Costco and thoroughly caramelize a whole batch of them.  I freeze them in an ice cube tray and then I can put caramelized onions on every pizza I want by microwaving half an onion ice cube for 10 seconds.  It's a fancy and delicious pizza, and honestly the "hardest" part is grating the cheese!

And I cook it in a cast iron skillet.  It does not stick, and just leaves a little oil behind.  For months now, I've cleaned my cast iron with a soapy sponge, because it's easy and my prior method was definitely not.  They say not to use soap, but what do they know.  There's no sign that I'm ruining the seasoning and every sign that I'm easifying the cleaning.


Catherine's kitchen philosophy is so different from mine.  Today she made Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies using both the Kitchenaid Mixer and the Cuisinart Food Processor.  This simply blows my mind.  Meanwhile, as she was making her cookies, I made a pie crust using this recipe, which is notable because it requires not a food processor, not a pastry blender, but a fork.  Mix flour, salt, and butter by hand, mix in some sour cream with a fork, done. I was so excited!  The recipe does say to "vigorously whisk together the flour and salt"...but ha!  Surely you jest! Like I'm going to dirty a whisk to mix flour and salt.  Wait...would anyone do that?  I mean, that is the most pointless use of a whisk I have ever heard of.  (Technically false).  90% of the time a recipe calls for a whisk, I use a fork anyway.  I know, right?  Forks are the best.

We'll see how the pie turns out tomorrow.  Meanwhile, the cookies were really good.  But I must warn you, there were a lot of them.  I should not use the past tense because there are still a lot of them.  I've never seen so many freshly baked cookies in my entire life.  We filled the cookie jar, and two whole plates, and another bag, and our stomachs!

"How many cookies did you eat?" "I don't know..."

That's not even all of them.  She's still in the middle of cooking them.

Let's check out another angle, just to drive the magnitude home:

OMG SO MANY COOKIES

These are pretty much the best cookies ever, for the record.