Attic Adventurs: 2017

It started Tuesday night, with the sound of fire trucks outside the window. It continued for hours, late into the night.

WHY? WHY?! Jackhammering. At 10:30 pm. Outside the window. Strange septic aroma. Pickaxes. Backhoes. An excavator. Flashing lights. Emergency vehicles. Union dudes.
Sleep was going to be challenging. 

Wednesday night. Note on the elevator. No cooking gas that night.

Tonight. Note on the elevator that gas/electric utilities needed to be in Attic on Friday and upcoming Monday - and OH THEN...

THEN the super and his wife presented me with this box and made me sign for it while they said - there will be notes under alllllllllllllllllll of the tenants' doors.
 

Long story short, I will not be cooking with gas for possibly 4-6 weeks. So. Yeah. Or using the dryers in the building.

Hello landlord-provided shiny new kinda hot plate? Where the hell am I plugging you in in the Attic of no kitchen counters?

(Honestly I am relieved. Was beginning to think the smell was a neighbor who... hadn't been seen for a while and was possibly a 'former neighbor'.)

43 Ideas for Birthday 43: Immersion Blender

Random thing, I know, but there you go. Plus it has multiple uses, and I like things with multiple uses. I don't have space to spare for single use things.

KitchenAid KHB2351CU 3-Speed Hand Blender - Contour Silver

 

• Removable 8-Inch Blending Arm with Fixed Blade
• Soft Grip Handle
• Whisk Attachment
• 2 1/2-Cup BPA-Free Chopper Attachment with Lid
• Blend, crush, chop, puree and whisk

See Amazon.com (link to follow)

POSTSCRIPT: As of August 2015, I broke down and bought one - so I could make cucumber soups. So much fun.

43 Ideas for Birthday 43: Trading Joe's Cooking

Trying to figure out what to cook with your Trader Joe's goodies? Believe it or not, there are cookbooks for that: http://t.co/iBHuwKoFQU
— Trader Joe's Best (@TraderJoesBest) September 10, 2014

Summer 2012: Island Hopping, Part 3

I know this was supposed to be the summer of Island Hopping, but due to one thing or another (mostly the heat index), I've been spending it inside in the air conditioning sorting through things. My islands thus far visited include: the parchment-covered Isle of Memories, to the Peninsula of the CPU where I commute to the Twin Island of Techies in the Keys, to the oft-visited Kitchen Island.

Ah, the tiny Kitchen Island. It's a miracle that so much is produced on such a tiny speck of land, with nary a granite piece, tiled backsplash, stainless metal quarry, or electrical or utility connection in sight. Not to mention water/wine cooler/dishwasher/cabana boy/personal chef/personal shopper/or interior decorator.

It's the only place I have to create culinary masterpieces, and it's the only real estate around with room to store sundries, cooking implements, spices, and to experiment and feed visitors and IT boys alike.

It is from this Kitchen Island that I was thinking of attempting to make a themed treat for the summer: The Floating Island - a classic French dessert with meringue and custard, but mon dieu, that looks super hard - so thanks to Wikipedia for supplying this image instead.Rather than get all "het" up about making it, I turned my energies instead to trying out a recipe that I knew I had ingredients for: Cake Mix Peanut Butter Cookies, a recipe that had come to my attention via the Interwebs.

1 box white or yellow cake mix
1 cup peanut butter
2 eggs
1/4 cup milk
chocolate chips optional

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Mix all the ingredients together, adding the chips at the end.
(Dough will be super sticky, and stiff. You can add a little milk to thin out the batter.)
Drop by the spoonful (or cookie scoop) onto your cookie sheet.
Sprinkle with sugar (fine/granulated/demerara) and press the tines of a fork into the tops to create that peanut butter cookie look.
Bake 10-15 minutes (depending on your oven.)

The author of the recipe added suggestions, including adding more peanut butter, different chips, but my brain went elsewhere.

Batch one was baked as above, and was yummy and was eaten by my usual guinea pigs and me, of course.

HOWEVER, I immediately started to plot something else.

In my pantry was a container of the Peanut Butter & Co.'s Mighty Maple blend pb, and in my freezer was a package of Trader Joe's Fully Cooked Bacon, as well as enough stuff to remake the cookies for an upcoming staff party and so ... Viola.

Breakfast cookies - maple, peanut butter, bacon, chocolate chip pancake cookies!

Package of pre-cooked bacon
1 box white or yellow cake mix
1.5 cups Mighty Maple PB
2 eggs
1/4 cup milk
chocolate chips

Pre-heat bacon. Cook until crispy. Drain well.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Mix up cake mix, peanut butter, eggs, and milk.
(Dough will be sticky. Can be thinned out with a touch of milk.)
Chop up or tear bacon into little pieces.
Scoop dough onto cookie sheet with scoop.
Add about 6 chocolate chips and a few bacon pieces to center of dough ball, wrapping treats into the center, covering like a dumping.
Stud a few chocolate chips/bacon pieces to top of cookie.
Sprinkle with demerara sugar.
Bake 10-15 minutes depending on your oven.
Let cool slightly on sheet before transferring to rack to cool.

Really yummy warm, with milk.

Not recommended that you eat more than 2 or 3 at a time. These are once in a while cookies. Not all the time cookies.

Trust me, I know. I ate way too many, and even the party people couldn't eat more than 1 or 2 at a time. Though, now that I think about it, they may have been full of beer and other party foods.

Kitchen catastrophes

You never know when the lessons from your youth are going to come in handy. Take this weekend for example …

I have never been known for my gracefulness. It can be said (and there are police reports and facial scars to back me up) that I’m more than just a little accident prone. There was no point sneaking into my house as a teenager because I would inevitably stumble over, or drop something, to give it way. To this day, my parents SWEAR they’ve never heard so much noise as when I visit, because I’m always knocking something over in the kitchen or bathroom. (I say the latter is because I’m used to my own stuff in my own tiny space. There’s more walls and stuff at their house that gets in my way!)

In an earlier stage of my life I worked for a major fast food chain, where I got a thorough education in many, many things (some not suitable for innocent nieces and nephews to ever learn about.) In addition to learning that “If you have time to lean, you have time to clean,” I got the first of my marriage proposals (more on that MUCH LATER). One of the oddest things I remembered from my time in the grease pit came back to me in a big ol’splash one day this past weekend.

It was one of the first autumnal days we’ve had this season, with tropical rains and winds making it seem like it was late November instead of mid-September. I got in the mood to cook, so I was spending time in my teeny tiny kitchenette. On the stove top I had a large cauldron of black bean soup bubbling away, and the oven was full of scarily spicy peanut butter cookies. Since my minuscule sink was full of dirty dishes, I was bustling around to put things away to make room. As I blindly reached down to put pots and pans away on my rolling shelves/counter top, I wasn’t really paying close attention. Suddenly I heard a large splat and saw that somehow I’d managed to knock over the gallon jug of olive oil … and it was glooping and glopping its contents across my kitchen floor and onto the walls … and the puddle was getting bigger and bigger! Hysterical panic set in, as my paper towels ran out and no newspapers were to be found. I just wanted to scream “CLEAN UP IN AISLE 1!” and let someone else deal with the mess. Alas, no one rode their mop to my rescue.

It was in that instance when the lessons learned at the fry vat suddenly came to mind. In case of major grease spillage, look for the salt box! Not the salt shaker, but the large container of salt that hides in the recesses of every pantry or kitchen shelf somewhere in most of the world. Grab it, open it, and spread the content around on the spill, very very liberally. Not only does the salt seem to absorb the oily mess, it adds some traction to your shoes while you run around and try and contain the rest of the disaster. (This is akin to using sand and/or kitty litter to get traction in the snow in the winter.) It also buys you a moment or two to take stock of the situation.

As I was contemplating the cleanup of my kitchen catastrophe, the perfect storm of conditions continued to hit critical mass. With one hand dripping in oil, the other caked with salt, and me trying to figure out how to get the almost burning cookies out of the oven or how to get the pot to stop from boiling over, wouldn't you know it? The cell phone rang. Rather than let it go to voice mail, I just had to answer it. (You know, ‘cause I’m conditioned that way. D**n it PAVLOV!) I believe that’s when the hysterical laughter--AT MYSELF--began to emerge. [Sorry about that, Jenn. Thanks for understanding and for calling me back.]

Once calmed, I managed to find a way to gloss over the situation. I rescued the cookies, turned down the soup, and then turned to tackling the huge salt and oil slick on the floor. I also very carefully put the gallon of olive oil BACK in the pantry … on the floor … away from the ministrations of my bumbling self …. .

Plus I took pictures to remind me of the mess, though they don’t quite capture the Technicolor wonder of the olive oil contrasting with my nasty linoleum.

After many minutes making salt "castles" on the floor, followed by the services of my Dust Buster sucking gross stuff out of crevasses and grooves, and lots of scrubbing with Lysol wipes, the floor has a nice sheen to it. Is it me though, or does everything taste oh so slighty ... salty?



Nah. You’re imaging that Auntie “Grace,” along with the phantom grit that you’re feeling when you walk across the floor …

Auntie Nettie's Kitchen

I had a very Flax Hill Garden-esque weekend. Along with sleeping in, leisurely reading of the newspapers, and watching of more Jane Austen, it was a wonderful time. I mostly stayed in my kitchen and whipped up all kinds of things. I cranked up the CD player, and listened to an eclectic range of music, from the Twilight soundtrack, to the Elgar Cello Concerto played by Jacqueline Du Pre, to KT Tunstall, and Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony. (Have you ever really listened to the second movement or his Edgemont Overture? Glorious!)

With the warm weather this weekend, I had the window open wide to let in the smells of spring and was able to taunt my neighbors with the aromas.

There’s something very cathartic about cooking, especially when you do it from scratch. I don’t use a food processor or a mixer, so everything is chopped, shredded, beaten, and mixed by hand. I have about 2 square feet of counter space, the world’s smallest sink, and a very narrow range top, but some how it all works. Who needs a gourmet kitchen?

I made loaves of Apple Bread, a batch of Fudge, a pan of Mint Chocolate Brownies, a pot of hearty Chicken stew, and a whole Broccoli Chicken Lasagna. If Jane can share recipes and photos, so can I.

Apple Bread aka the Zucchini bread recipe
from the Better Homes and Garden cookbook
covered generously with demerara sugar crystals

Grandma's Brownies from
the original 1996 edition of Help! My Apartment has a Kitchen cookbook,
(modified to include a center layer of Andes Mints)

Broccoli Chicken Lasagna

1/2 pound fresh mushrooms, sliced
1 large onion, chopped
1/4 cup butter, cubed
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 can (14.5 oz.) chicken broth
1 3/4 cups milk
2/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 package (16 oz.) frozen broccoli cuts, thawed
9 lasagna noodles, cooked and drained
1 1/3 cup julienned fully cooked ham, divided
2 cups (8 oz.) shredded Monterey Jack cheese, divided
2 cups cubed cooked chicken

In a large skillet, sauté mushrooms and onion in butter until tender.
Stir in the four, salt, pepper and nutmeg until blended.
Gradually stir in broth and milk. Bring to a boil; cook and stir for 2 minutes or until thickened.
Stir in Parmesan cheese and broccoli, heat through.
Spread ½ cup broccoli mixture in a greased 13 in. x 9 in. x 2 in. baking dish.
Layer with three noodles, a third of the remaining broccoli mixture, 1 cup ham and 1 cup Monterey Jack cheese.
Top with three noodles, a third of the broccoli mixture, all of the chicken and ½ cup Monterey Jack cheese. Top with remaining noodles, broccoli mixture and ham.
Cover and bake at 350 degrees for 45-50 minutes or until bubbly. Sprinkle with remaining cheese.
Bake 5 minutes longer or until cheese is melted.
Let stand for 15 minutes before cutting.

Yields 12 servings

NOTE: I excluded the mushrooms and substituted a variety of other things. I used cooked turkey for the ham. I used cooked egg noodles in lieu of the lasagna noodles. (About 5 handfuls of dry egg noodles). I also used jalapeno Jack cheese and added crumbed bacon and chives to the broccoli mixture. I also used a LOT more pepper and Parmesan cheese. Since the egg noodles are bulkier than lasagna noodles, you'll have to press down on the layers to get it all to fit in the casserole dish.

Really good reheated for the next few days.

Enjoy! I know I am!

Recipe for a Perfect Sunday

Recipe can be customized per individual. Family sizes may take some adjustments.

To "pre-heat," make a list of things To-Do.

To start, take:

¼ part Sleeping in Late
¼ part Leisurely Reading of many Sunday papers
¼ part talking to Friends and Family

Add equal measures of the following Sensory Delights to make up the rest:

~The sights of Indian summer light streaming in through window and dancing through falling leaves;
~The sounds of classic Pink Floyd (Echos) and/or The Who (Quadrophenia) blaring through the CD player;
~The comforting scent of fabric softener wafting from the clean laundry;
~The yummy aromas of baking spices like cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg, plus the tang of lemon zest and apples rising from the two loaves of apple bread, the apple crisp, and the batches of snickerdoodles cooling on the rack;
~The delectable tastes of the homemade soups and the wild rice and turkey casserole made for my meals throughout the week;
and finally,
~The feeling of accomplishment for finishing almost everything on the To-Do list.

Mix with a hearty sprinkling (or a dash or two) of the utter and complete Joy of:

-not having to go to work;
-the lack of appointments;
- and absolutely NO deadlines.

Bake for about 12 hours at 98.6 degrees.
Let rest six more days before repeating.

Variations could include: movie marathons, window shopping, walks on the beach, more sleeping in, reading in front of the fireplace, and lots and lots of chocolate.