| ...I do love to cook. Yesterday I found myself to be in quite a good mood and couldn't figure out why (and isn't that sad), until I realized it was because I was able to mess around in the kitchen for a couple of hours. Actually, yesterday was a flurry of productivity all over the house. I plowed through laundry (so close to being literal there really is no difference). I vacuumed. I wrote an entry. I went grocery shopping. And I cooked. Who knew it was a mood enhancing need? You don't know what you've got (or need) until it's gone. I'm trying to get back on track where household meals are concerned. I used to plan our dinner menus two weeks out in advance, and stock up on groceries, and be all organized. Then came the HIPFH(tm), and the fact that the kitchen was pretty much out of commission for a while. We relied on Domino's, Taco Bell, and Jack in the Box for two months. The kids were heartbroken ("What? No asparagus?"). Now, thanks to Calvin, I have a brand new, sparkly, clean (when I make it so) kitchen in which to create gastronomic delights. I'm one of your more picky cooks, though. The atmosphere has to be just right. The planets have to be aligned. My personal kitchen god as to be appeased. The two more annoying dogs have to be OUTSIDE (the third is useful for cleanup). Other than that, my requirements for a good kitchen-messing session are as follows:
I love things that take all day to cook, like baked beans, or stew, or soup. Something I have to interact with, stir once in a while, adjust the seasonings to, and taste (often) to make sure it's all coming out right (often). I haven't made baked beans since I broke up with X(m). He and I both come from Maine, and baked beans are a staple. Plenty of molasses, with big hunks of onion, and a piece of crusty bread to sop it all up with. That's a meal right there. The other inhabitants of Animal Planet are not fans of baked beans. Nor onions. I suffer, I do. A can of B&M with chopped onions just doesn't cut it. I have a HUGE collection of cookbooks. Moosewood Cooks at Home (great for soups). Crazy Plates (the titles of the recipes make me groan). The Meatless Gourmet (great for salads). A Dinner a Day (gets your whole week's worth of dinner menu's together for you, complete with a grocery list). Great Good Foods (another good soup/stew book). American Cooking (traditional recipes). Joy of Cooking (still doesn't help my woeful piecrusts). Crock Pot Cooking (I adore this one - my crock pot is my best friend and I now have a failproof meatloaf). And probably a million more (okay, I'm exaggerating a little). But one thing that has saved me more often than not is my subscription to Quick Cooking. It's a magazine which publishes the family recipes of folks all over the country just like me, who need to (or prefer to) get dinner together in a small amount of time. Good, simple stuff that hasn't done me wrong yet. On a typical week, we'll have Baked Ziti, Crocked Meatloaf, Chicken-n-rice, Roast, Enchiladas (with the leftover roast), and Tuna Casserole. We'll also have Crocked Chicken, Calvin's Famous Salsa Burgers, Tacos, Stew, Cube Steak, Chicken Fettucini Alfredo (Marie's favorite), or plain ol' Spaghetti and Meat Sauce. I usually save my experiments for the weekends, though lately I haven't had the time (lessee, we have to move all our crap out of the house, paint all the interior walls, move away for a week while the flooring gets installed, move back in and put all our stuff *back* again. Who has time to experiment?). When everything settles out, though, we'll be hearing the lilting "What the heck is this stuff?" emanating from the happy children's mouths once again. And since you're probably dying for it (if you aren't, you should be), here is my VERY TOP SECRET (so secret I'm publishing it on the Internet, forcryingoutloud) recipe for EnchiladasYou will need:
Prepare a box of mexican flavored packaged rice, or prepare two cups (yield) of white rice (instant or the slow kind) and mix in 1/2 cup of salsa and 1/2 cup of corn. While the rice is cooking, with a fork, shred two cups of meat from the roast you had the night before. Keep only the nice parts for the enchiladas, cut up the gristle and fat for treats for the dogs. They love that stuff. Keep the beagle in the kitchen to clean up the scraps you (will) inadvertently fling on the floor. Grab a beer from the fridge and take a swig. Lay out the tortillas assembly-line fashion on the (clean!) counter. Plop a spoonful of refried beans and spread it in a line down the center of the tortillas. Follow with a spoonful of cooked rice. Follow with dollops of salsa. Follow with a sprinkling of green chilies. Follow with a small handful of shredded roast. Follow with three (count them, three) jalapeno slices along the center. Follow with a sprinkling of cheddar. Nibble on a little cheddar and take another swig of beer. Here's where it get's complicated. The ingredients are spread in a line along the center of the tortilla, right? Not just all lumped up in the middle? So, slightly fold over the edges of the tortilla like you're making an H with the ingredients in the middle as the crossbar. Then, keeping the edges folded, roll the bottom part of the tortilla over the ingredients (one) then grab the whole thing and roll it over the top part of the tortilla (two). The seam will end up on the bottom. You've all been to Taco Bell, right? Order the seven layer burrito and you'll see what I'm talking about. This method makes a nice little packet without all the innards getting out. Don't want that, no indeedy. NOW. Grab a rectangle glass baking dish and spray some Pam in it. Place the filled tortillas *seam side down* into the dish. Pour green chili enchilada sauce over the top of 'em. Sprinkle liberally with cheddar cheese (hey, I didn't say this recipe was going to be good for you, did I?). Stick 'em in the oven (watch out for Gypsy's nose) for 30 minutes. Drink the rest of the beer. Possibly crack open another one. Clean up what the beagle missed. Periodically stick your head in the oven (not too far) and take a good whiff. Exercise your skills in patience as you anticipate this Wonderful Concoction which Laura so generously shared with you. ~grin~ Hey, if you happen to try this recipe out, shoot me a message and let me know how they turned out. |