Summer Squash

If you've been wondering where I've been hiding the last few weeks, I've been buried in school work and eating more burgers and pizza than I care to admit. But now that school is out, I'm slowly getting back into my cooking groove. Arlond and I visited the farmer's market this week and picked up lots of yummy food–most of which I haven't done anything with, yet. But I'm slowly working on it.

Anyway, while we were there, one of the farmers was selling yellow summer squash. My parents never really cooked squash for us when we were kids, so I've never been really comfortable eating it. I usually would just pick around it if it were in something. I did eat zucchini bread and things like that, but not much of anything else. Recently, I was served raw summer squash slices and I figured I'd try them out. And they were pretty good. I enjoyed their light, nutty flavor and they weren't so watery like cucumbers. So I bought some at the grocery store to put in my minestrone-ish soup, and that worked out really well, too. So I checked out the squash and asked the farmer how he liked to prepare them so I could get some more ideas. He said he ate them raw and would boil them, but only just a little bit, and said his wife made this really good stuffing with cottage cheese and cornbread with it. I could see the sweet fondness he had for the dish as he recalled just how much better it tasted two or three days after it had been cooked. He turned to his wife and asked if she had the recipe and she pulled out a half piece of paper with the recipe for squash cornbread. So I bought a basket of squash and took the recipe home and sat on it for a few days until I finally forced myself to stop being lazy and make it before the squash went bad. The recipe called for an 8x12 pan, which is way too big for me to eat by myself, so I opted for a half-portion, as detailed below:

Squash Cornbread:

1/2 cup boiled chopped squash (drain through colander)
1/2 stick butter (melted)
1/2 cup cottage cheese
1/2 chopped onion
1 chopped jalapeno pepper (the recipe called for 1 can of chopped green chilies, but I opted to go with fresh peppers instead)
1 egg
3/4 cup cornmeal
1/4 cup flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
Whatever 1/2 a pinch of salt is (You can also substitute a box of cornbread mix for the last four ingredients)

Mix all ingredients. Bake at 375°F in greased 8x6ish pan for about 25 minutes.

I meant to take a picture before I started eating it, but I forgot.

All in all, it was pretty delicious. It's definitely a great side to add on to a meal and relatively quick and easy to make. I put the rest in the fridge, so we'll find out tomorrow just how good the leftovers are.

So after I made my mini-squash cornbread, I still had two more squashes to use up. I pulled out my Simply in Season and looked for some ideas. I found a recipe for zucchini cookies, and figured it was close enough to what I needed.

Yellow Squash Cookies (adapted from Simply in Season, p. 166):

3/4 cup butter (softened)

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 egg

2 1/2 cups flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

3/4 tsp salt

1 tsp vanilla

1 1/2 cups summer squash (shredded)

3/4 cup chocolate chips

Cream butter, sugar, and brown sugar. Add egg and beat until fluffy. Mix in flour, baking powder, salt and vanilla. Slowly stir in squash and chocolate chips. Drop onto greased baking sheets. Bake for 10-12 minutes at 375°F. (Note: Bake cookies as soon as they are mixed. If the batter stands too long, it will get a bit watery).

You can never go wrong with cookies.

So I was a little short on chocolate chips, but I had one Hershey's bar and cut that up and added it in too. I think what I liked most about these cookies was the nutty flavor without the nuts. Call me crazy, but I really hate nuts in my baked goods. Not because I dislike nuts, but I dislike having hard bits of nut inside my soft, gooey cookies and brownies and cake. So it was nice getting that flavor while still having an overall soft consistency. 

So summer squash is definitely a go for me. I'm not sure if Arlond's going to get on board, but I'll make sure he tries some when he gets home and see what he thinks.

Cream of Chicken Soup/Broccoli Rice Casserole

When I was a kid I hated broccoli. Every once in a while my parents would serve it with dinner*, and I would choke it down... often in tears at the injustice of it all. Then one day I was introduced to the best thing ever:

Broccoli. Rice. Casserole.

Apparently it had been served at holiday meals for years and I had been oblivious all that time. I was in college and someone pointed out the casserole to me and I bluntly replied, No thanks. I don't like broccoli. But whoever this angel was convinced me that you couldn't even taste the broccoli, so I decided to be polite and took a small portion to try. I was an adult now, after all.

So I grudgingly took a bite of this casserole that I was sure I was going to have to immediately wash down with whatever I was drinking, and then the sweet deliciousness grazed my tongue and I was in love. With the casserole, anyway.

Broccoli didn't suddenly become my favorite food of all time, but I'll at least eat it willingly now. I don't think I've mentioned, but I'm currently assisting with some of the school gardening programs in Houston, so recently I've become acquainted with the broccoli plant.

Source: http://gardeninggarden.com/2009/09/18/growing-broccoli/

Before this, I always kind of thought broccoli just grew right out of the ground, sort of like asparagus. 

Source: http://www.gardenharvestsupply.com/ProductCart/pc/Asparagus-Plants-for-Sale-Jersey-Male-Asparagus-Crowns-c48.htm

Just imagine those little stem toppers blossoming into a broccoli head. That's basically what I thought happened.

So anyway, I learned the broccoli is actually the flower bud of a very large plant and if you let it continue to grow, little yellow flowers will blossom out of the broccoli head. Also, I learned that fresh-picked broccoli is delicious.

Arlond, on the other hand, has not been convinced. For a man that loves his vegetables, he's actually pretty picky about which ones he eats (mostly potatoes, peas, corn, and carrots—but only if they're cooked!). I recently roped him onto the asparagus bandwagon...but only because bacon was involved. Baby steps, I say.

So I tried the same route that got me on the broccoli train, but he didn't fall for the cheesy goodness that is broccoli rice casserole. I'd kind of given up on the idea until I had an epiphany:

Chicken Broccoli Rice Casserole.

I mentioned it to Arlond and he said it sounded good. So I decided to whip up a test batch. Anyway, here's the recipe for the original:

Ingredients:
2 sticks of butter
1 16 oz. bag of chopped broccoli
2 cups of rice
2 cans of cream of mushroom soup
2 cups of shredded cheese (I use sharp cheddar)
1 cup milk
1 cup water

Recipe:
1. Sauté broccoli in butter
2. Mix all other ingredients together in a 9x13 dish
3. Add broccoli to pan--mix well
4. Bake at 375°F for about an hour

While this recipe is delicious, there are a few issues that I wanted to address:

1. I want to add chicken.

2. A 9x13 casserole is perfect for taking to a social gathering, but much too big for the two of us.

3. I've always used instant rice, but I want to switch to whole grain.

4a. I don't really like mushrooms.

4b. I want to get away from using canned soup. Especially condensed soup.

So my goals were to make a smaller portion using whole grain rice, a homemade substitute for the cream of mushroom soup, and also throwing some chicken in there somewhere. I also used fresh broccoli instead of frozen, but that wasn't a serious change. I've gotten pretty good at downsizing, so my biggest concerns were the substitutions.

I figured that the rice would be in the oven long enough that it would cook similarly to the instant rice, so I just decided to test it out that way (Note: This did not really work, but more on that later). I basically just decided to mix the chicken in with everything else and see what happens. I debated on whether or not to pre-cook the chicken, and ultimately decided against it. My chicken nugget recipe only has the chicken bits cooking for 20 minutes before they're done, so I figured doubling that would most definitely be enough when they're cut approximately the same size. So all that was left was the condensed soup.

I googled "cream of mushroom soup substitute" and basically learned that all I needed to do was to make a roux. I checked out a few different recipes and decided to wing it:

1-2 Tbs butter

1/4ish cup flour

Milk

Chicken stock

Sea salt

Pepper

Melt butter is small pan. Slowly add flour until a thick paste forms. Add equal parts milk and stock until desired consistency is reached. Salt and pepper to taste.

Also, I realized this is basically identical to my dad's gravy recipe, except for the whole turkey/chicken stock difference. So since I learned from my mistakes last time, the roux actually came out quite nicely and could potentially serve as a chicken gravy.

So when it was all said and done, this was roughly my recipe:

3 Tbs butter

1 head broccoli, chopped

1 chicken breast, diced

3/4ish cup whole grain rice

1 recipe homemade cream of chicken soup

More milk

1 cup cheddar cheese

Sauté broccoli in butter. Mix chicken, rice, cream of chicken soup, and milk in 8x6ish glass baking pan. Add broccoli and mix. Add cheese. Bake at 350°F for about 40 minutes.

So the one major problem with my final product is that the rice did not fully cook and was still crunchy. Despite this, it was delicious. Also, I'm pretty sure the rice in the remaining servings is soaking up all the remnant liquid-y goodness and is getting slightly less crunchy as I type. It probably won't be completely cured, but it's a start. Next time, I'm debating between partially pre-cooking the rice or just adding more liquid for it to soak up in the casserole and possibly cook it a little longer. I plan to ask my rice-loving friends at school tomorrow for input. I will keep you posted on the results of my queries. 

*Note: Earlier I claimed that my parents served broccoli out of a can when I was a child, but I was recently informed that this was simply not true (or at least, my mother never did). As such, I have retracted the statement and instead would like to say that they served me frozen broccoli. My mom also claimed that she may have possibly served us fresh broccoli, but I don't remember ever seeing it in the fridge, so I think she made that part up.

Fish

I'm currently working on Marion Nestle's book What to Eat, and just got done reading the section about fish. Despite the fact that fish are incredibly healthy for you (remember Michael Pollan's rule of thumb: The Less Legs, The Better?), there are some serious problems in the fishing industry that are often overlooked.

First, there's the obvious issue of overfishing. There are many species of fish that are being caught faster than they can reproduce, thus diminishing their numbers at a rapid pace. Popular fish like salmon, cod, and tuna; and delicacies like shark and octopus create a high demand...higher than what the Earth can sustain, and so their numbers are dwindling. Overfishing.org reports that 90 percent of large predatory fish are gone from the ocean.

One way the fish industry is addressing this problem is fish farming, which, while helpful when done appropriately, comes with its own set of issues, most notably fish feed. Carnivorous fish, like salmon, require pounds upon pounds of feeder fish for every pound of farmed fish, thus requiring even more fishing and ocean depletion. What's worse, is that many fish that don't typically eat much fish are being fed fish-based feed rather than a vegetarian feed. Further, fish from fish farms are sometimes genetically modified to allow for production in areas that wouldn't normally support this type of fish. When these farms are in open water systems (and they often are), these genetically modified fish can sometimes escape and then breed with wild fish. These "super fish" can also enter ecosystems that wouldn't normally sustain their breed, ultimately decimating feeder fish populations and starving larger predatory fish. Farmed fish are also frequently treated with antibiotics, and some fish (such as salmon) do not have the proper color because of the difference in diet, so the color is added artificially. Despite these issues, fish farming has its merits and can be a good alternative to overfishing when done right, and there are several certification programs to assess farming practices (the ASC just started certifying farmed tilapia; however, no other certification program has been officially approved by the US government).

Another big issue is methylmercury. Inorganic mercury has been released into the environment in rather large quantities, thanks in a large part to the burning of fossil fuels, but also to volcanoes, forest fires, etc. This mercury then makes its way to water systems, where it is converted to methylmercury. Methylmercury is then absorbed by oceanic wildlife and increases in concentration as you go up the food chain. As such, larger, carnivorous fish like shark and swordfish contain extremely high doses of mercury, which can cause a whole host of health problems, such as neurological damage, cardiovascular problems, and autoimmune disorders. These problems are particularly relevant for children and fetuses, who can show effects from much smaller doses.

PCBs are also a huge problem. Many of the Earth's watered are severely contaminated with PCBs originating from coolant fluids, plasticizers, paints, and a whole host of other things. Again, fish are contaminated with them and then the concentration grows and you climb the food chain. PCBs cause problems like skin conditions, liver damage, and cancer, and those issues are amplified in children, breastfeeding infants, and fetuses.


Clearly, there are serious issues with the fishing industry. What's worse, is that there is very little regulation in place to address them, and just as little done to identify problematic fishing practices to consumers. Country-of-origin labeling (COOL) went into effect in 2005 for all wild-caught fish, farmed fish, and shellfish (with exceptions for all "processed" fish). COOL is one way to determine the safety of fish, based on the water contamination in that country. Fish are also labeled as either "wild-caught" or "farmed," giving consumers another clue in their fish puzzle. Despite these labeling requirements, the labels are often incorrect, and even when they are correct, a consumer must be incredibly knowledgeable to be able to discern any meaning from these labels.

Some grocery stores, such as Whole Foods, label their fish using guides such as the Monterrey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch or the Blue Ocean Institute Seafood Guide, which provide easy-to-understand ratings, such as "Best Choice," "Good Alternative," or "Avoid" for each type of fish they sell. Even more impressive, Whole Foods just announced that they will no longer sell wild-caught seafood with a Red/Avoid rating. And for those stores that don't display such informative labeling, these guides are also available as smartphone apps (which can also be used in restaurants, where labeling is not required). In spite of these efforts, the fishing industry has fought back ferociously. Many fisheries are disputing the credibility of these guides, rather than making an effort to change their practices.

In an effort to be more conscientious of my fish choices, I downloaded the MBA Seafood Guide app. Probably my biggest problem area so far has been sushi. Because I love spicy sushi and almost every spicy sushi roll has either tuna or salmon in it. Also, sushi restaurants don't typically include COOL (which makes it more difficult to determine the rating), so I would have to ask, and as I've mentioned before, I'm a wimp when it comes to asking about my food. But I went out for sushi the other day and got some spicy crawfish, that was super delicious.

I also bought some farmed Mediterranean Seabass today on the recommendation of another customer at Whole Foods. I didn't check the rating until after I'd purchased it, so it wasn't the best fish I could have picked, but not the worst either, at least. To add to my stupidity, here was my conversation with the guy behind the fish counter:

Me: "Could I get one of the smaller seabass? And could you skin it for me?"
Fish Guy: "...Skin it?"
Me: "Yeah. Skin it."
Fish Guy: "Do you mean 'scale' it? You want to keep the skin on, don't you?"
Me: "...Yeah. Well... you know what I mean."

So my snarky, know-it-all fish guy 'scaled' the fish for me and then offered to take the guts out as well. So I took my fish home and a few hours later, I opened up the package to find a fish that looked pretty much identical to the fish I saw in the display, except for the giant gash in the belly, where he probably took the guts out. It still had skin (although there weren't any scales to speak of). It still had bones. It still had fins. It still had a head.

This was a problem.

I wasn't feeling particularly well today and seriously considered putting the fish back in the fridge and dealing with it later, but I mustered up the energy to figure out what the heck to do with this fish in order to turn it into something I knew how to cook.

I figured it couldn't be that different from deboning a chicken, and I feel like I've seen someone just grab the head and pull all the bones out in one fell swoop, but I couldn't figure it out. So I ended up cutting the belly open all the way down to the back fin, where I managed to sort of lift out the bottom half of the spine... until it broke. Then I cut down either side of the remaining spine and just pulled it out. Then I had to go back for the little bitty rib bones or whatever you call them and pull them out individually with my fingers. Then I cut off the head and tail and fins and voilà! Two slightly ugly but totally cookable fish fillets! For reference, this seems like a much better way of doing it.

I put the fillets in an aluminum foil pouch, along with some butter, "minced" garlic, sea salt, and pepper. I also added some asparagus that I wrapped in bacon, and then sealed up the pouches. Then I cooked them at 400°F for about 20 minutes. And they were delicious! Since I wasn't feeling up to par, I didn't document the experience, but I'll likely do it again soon (preferably with a better fish) and I'll snap some pictures then. Hopefully I'll have perfected my fish deboning skills so you will all be impressed with my handy work... but that's pretty unlikely.

Collard Greens

Last week, I acquired some collard greens. Later that evening, my work-wife invited me over for dinner and said she was making tilapia and salad. So I said, "Oh! I just got some collard greens we can add to the salad!"

My work-wife, who is from the South, kind of snorted and said something to the effect of "In the salad? You have to cook them!"

Lesson learned: Just because they look like salad greens, doesn't make them so.

Now let's flash back to the last time I ate cooked greens. I was probably about nine years old. My brother, sister, and I accompanied our mother to the grocery store, and while we were in the middle of the canned fruits and vegetables aisle, we came across a can of spinach. My brother and I begged our mom to buy it and serve it to us. So we could be like Popeye. With a knowing smirk, she bought it for us and served it that very night. We were so excited. As soon as we said grace, I grabbed my fork, scooped up a heaping portion of spinach, and shoved it in my mouth. And. It. Was. Awful. My parents had a good laugh and I didn't touch spinach again until I was in college—and even now, I only ever eat it raw.

So I asked my all-knowing collards expert work-wife what you're supposed to do with them, and she told me this: Bacon and vinegar.

Armed with the belief that anything fresh and bacon-ized is better than the atrocity that came out of that spinach can, I cooked up some collards the next day:

Collard greens
Bacon
Balsamic vinegar
Butter
Sea salt
Pepper

Cut up bacon into bite-sized bits and begin to cook in medium pan. Wash the collards and cut up into smaller pieces. Add to bacon and sauté with butter and vinegar until soft. Salt and pepper to taste.

I can smell the deliciousness from here. Mostly because I can't smell it at all.

So I ate my big bowl of collards. And it was passable. Considering the amazing-ness that is all things bacon, this is kind of an insult to it.

Later, I confessed my feelings about collards to my work-wife:

We'll see about that.

I think can safely say any sort of cooked greens are pretty gross. Maybe I'll learn the secret to unlocking sweet deliciousness and change my mind, but until then, I'm just gonna stick to eating the raw kind.

Thanksgiving

In case you were unaware: Thanksgiving happened.

Since my husband and I moved away from our families this summer, it was the first time we were having a big holiday on our own. We certainly missed our families, but we wanted to do something fun instead of wallowing over the holiday weekend. One of Arlond's co-workers graciously invited us into her home on Thanksgiving, where we had a very yummy traditional turkey dinner.

Then on Saturday, Arlond and I invited some friends over and had our very own Thanksgiving feast. We'd both helped out with big holiday meals before, but this was the first time we did it on our own. So naturally, it was an adventure.

First things first, we had to decide on a menu. After careful debate, we finally settled on the following:

Organic Free-Range Roasted Turkey
Gravy
Mediterranean Stuffing
Mashed Potatoes
Deviled Eggs
Cranberry Sauce
Sweet Potato Casserole
Persimmon Bread Pudding
Pumpkin Pie

Note: Our friends also brought rolls, salad, and green bean casserole.

Next, we had to figure out how to make all of this. We'd made mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, and deviled eggs a million times, so that was no problem, but pretty much everything else was a first. My dad is the ultimate turkey expert, so I called him and made him tell me everything there is to know about cooking turkey. I took notes on an envelope. Here are some excerpts from our conversation:

"How many people are you serving? 8? You'll probably need at least a 12-pound turkey so you have leftovers." (This was WAAAAAY too much turkey. I really probably only needed 8-9 pounds, but I think we ate most of it... eventually.)
"Defrost the turkey." (I just bought a non-frozen one. Check.)
"I don't really know what the recommended cooking temperature and time are off hand. Just look them up online. There are charts." (Note: These charts are all for conventional turkeys...which will come into play as the story progresses...)
"Find a stuffing recipe you like. Try to find a really moist stuffing so your turkey will be moist too. I really like stuffing so I stuff as much stuffing into every nook and cranny of the bird. Once the bottom gets full, I'll shove some in the neck cavity too. Toothpicks are really good for holding everything in. I usually still have more stuffing leftover, so I'll wrap it up in foil and cook it next to the turkey." (Yeah, my dad really is obsessed with stuffing. I never really cared for it and was really only making it for the sake of a moist bird. The side pouch is a good way to set stuffing aside for your vegetarian friends and family, too!)
"Put your turkey in a foil pan or a roasting pan if you have one, but the foil pan will work. Then pour milk all over it. Pour until you've got between 1/2 and 1 inch pooled at the bottom of the pan. Then take a stick of butter and rub it all over the turkey. Like, the whole stick. Then put it in the oven and every 15-20 minutes rub more butter on it. Just use one of those pop-up timers so you'll know when it's done." (The butter and milk sounds pretty ridiculous, but it is amazing. My dad makes the best turkey ever, so this is solid gold advice right here.)

So then I asked my dad about making gravy:
"I'm not really that great at making gravy. It usually tastes good, but it always looks bad. It's probably because the turkey juice is so buttery. So I'd recommend trying to skim off as much grease as possible before starting. But stir the turkey juice in a sauce pan on low heat and slowly add in flour and water until it looks like gravy. If it's too thin, add more flour. If it's too thick, add more water. If you need more gravy, you can just water it down some more and then add more flour to thicken it back up."

So there you have it. My dad's uncanny turkey wisdom. Next I had to figure out about stuffing. As I mentioned more subtly earlier, I hate stuffing. Savory stuffing tastes like over-parsley-ed soggy bread, and I have a strong aversion to sweet stuffing (my dad's preferred choice) because I just can't accept mixing sweetness and meat juice together. It just doesn't seem right. So I perused my Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook and found a recipe for Mediterranean Stuffing (p.481):

8 cups Italian bread cubes
3/4 cup chopped bell pepper
1/2 cup chopped onion
3 cloves minced garlic
1/4 cup olive oil
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon rosemary
1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/4 cup parsley (I think I toned this down a bit though)
1 to 1 1/4 cup chicken broth

1. Place bread cubes in single layer on a cookie sheet. Bake at 375°F for 10 minutes or until golden, stirring once, set aside.
2. Cook bell pepper, onion, and garlic in hot oil for about 4 minutes or until tender. Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice, rosemary, and cayenne pepper. Toss bread cubes, onion mixture, and parsley in a large bowl. Drizzle with enough broth to moisten.

Better Homes and Gardens also hooked me up with an amazingly easy recipe for cranberry sauce (p. 522):

1 cup sugar
1 cup water
2 cups cranberries

Combine sugar and water in medium saucepan and bring to a boil for 5 minutes to dissolve sugar. Add cranberries. Return to boiling, then reduce heat. Boil gently and uncovered until cranberries pop, stirring occasionally.

I had recently bought some persimmons from the farmer's market and wasn't sure what to do with them until I found the recipe for persimmon bread pudding on the Whole Foods website.

For the pumpkin pie, I wanted to use real pumpkin instead of the canned pumpkin, so I compared notes between my mom and Better Homes and Gardens, and used this recipe:

Crust:
1 1/4 cups flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup butter
4-5 tablespoons cold water

1. Mix flour and salt in medium bowl and add butter and mash in until butter is in pea-sized pieces.
2. Sprinkle water over mixture and blend. Repeat until dough is moistened. Form into a ball.
3. Roll out dough until about 12 inches wide. Place in pie pan and trim edges.

Pie:
2 cups puréed pumpkin (Cut up pumpkin and roast for about an hour. Peel and purée.)
1/2 cup sugar
1 heaping teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 heaping teaspoon ginger
1/4 heaping teaspoon nutmeg
1/4-1/2 teaspoon cloves
2 eggs
3/4 cup heavy whipping cream

1. Preheat oven to 375°F. Combine pumpkin, sugar, and spices. Add eggs, beat lightly with a fork until combined. Gradually add cream, stir until just combined.
2. Place pie pan and crust on oven rack and carefully pour filling into pastry shell. Cover edge of pie with foil to prevent over browning. Bake 25 minutes, remove foil and bake another 25 minutes until it passes the toothpick test.

Then the big day came. We had most of the ingredients on hand, but we had to buy a few things that day. We inevitably made three trips to the grocery store when it was all said and done, but oh well. We started off with prepping the turkey and the stuffing:

Our beautiful turkey friend, "Hank", named after his cousin on New Girl

Thanks to my crafty chicken de-boning skills, I easily pulled this right out. I'm pretty sure it's Hank's man parts, but Arlond tried to convince me that it was his neck. Either way, I'm not ashamed to admit that I played with it for like 10 minutes before Arlond made me throw it away.

 

Everything started off really well and was going smoothly. And then Hank had a little surprise for us about an hour before he was supposed to be done...

Arlond: "Uh... Hank's done."

Me: "What do you mean, he's done?! He's got like another hour!"

Arlond: "No. the pop-up popped up. I checked with the meat thermometer and he's done."

This is when things started to get crazy.

Between the two of us, we had just started the deviled eggs, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, and bread pudding. And now the turkey needed to be carved and gravy needed to be made. So the bread pudding and sweet potato casserole got finished up first so we could throw them both in the oven. Then we had to get the deviled eggs done so they were out of the way because they were EVERYWHERE. Arlond continued to work on his little mashed potato project by himself and the cranberry sauce was pretty self-sufficient and only needed an occasional stir-up from me. Meanwhile I'm praying someone will show up early and save us from this nightmare (PS: No one did). And Hank pretty much got the shaft after he got done early.

Why did he get done so early you ask? Here is my theory: As I mentioned previously, Hank was an organic free-range turkey. Conventional turkeys are actually grossly mis-proportioned because they are systematically bred to have the biggest breasts possible (everyone's favorite part... except me). Their breasts are so big they can't even stand up or walk. Turkey production is so messed up that almost no one raises turkeys that are reproduced the old-fashioned way. Instead, humans have to artificially inseminate the lady turkeys. (For more information, check out this article, or read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle). This sounds pretty awful and I wanted Hank to have a happy and full life. So as a result, his breasts were significantly smaller than a conventional turkey's breasts and so the section of the turkey that typically takes longest to cook because it's so big didn't take as long for Hank.

So about 45 minutes later when everything else was finally under wraps, Hank sat patiently waiting for more attention. We stuck him back in the oven for 15 minutes or so to warm him back up, and I think this ultimately led to his slight drying out. He wasn't dry dry, but he wasn't as juicy and tender as my dad's turkeys. A work in progress and not too bad for a first attempt, if I do say so myself.

After we took Hank back out of the oven, I drained the leftover turkey juice into the sauce pan and started adding flour. I was going very slowly and patiently, adding flour little by little. Once it got nice and thick, I added some water. This is about when I realized I should've been alternating flour and water, because it started getting even thicker. So I basically had a brown paste with a mild gravy flavor. Once I got it back to an appropriate consistency, I salted the bejeezus out of it and called it good. Not the best gravy ever, but passable. And again, now I know for next time.

Looks like gravy to me

Then after everyone showed up, we had a lovely meal:

My excellent carving job (I had no idea what I was doing)

 Deviled Eggs, Stuffing, Cranberry Sauce, and Sweet Potato Casserole

Persimmon and Chocolate Bread Pudding

Made-from-scratch Pumpkin Pie 

So in the end, it wasn't perfect, but it was delicious and rewarding. Everyone enjoyed everything and had a good time hanging out. It was definitely a learning experience, and I'm excited for my next big holiday so I can show off my mad skillz (Easter, anyone?).

Okra and Eggplant

Hello, blogosphere. It's been a while. Here's a quick update on my non-foodie life: I've been working a lot. And I started school again in August. So I've had zero time for blogging. BUT! I have had time for cooking. And eating. Which we will discuss. Today.

So as I mentioned in my previous entry, I decided to experiment with the okra and eggplant that I bought at the farmer's market. I've eaten okra a few times prior to this, but I'd never cooked it on my own. Eggplant, on the other hand, was completely foreign to me. And so, my adventure began.

For my first cooking experience with okra, I decided to stick with something simple, so I pan-fried it. Basically I sliced it, covered it in olive oil, covered it in bread crumbs, and tossed the whole thing in the frying pan for a while.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly "covered" in bread crumbs, but you get the idea.

The final result was pretty good. Not amazing, but definitely edible. After I got tired of that, I still had quite a bit of okra left over, so I had to start getting creative. This is when I learned an incredibly important fact: You can put okra in just about anything. And so I did. Okra got put in salads. Okra got put in fajitas. Okra got put in chili. Okra has also made several appearances in my omelets. 

Okra, Tomato, and Feta Omelet. And also a bagel.

My adopted brother, Ben (who grew up in the South), told me the ONLY way to cook okra is to fry it in butter. I haven't yet tried this method, but it's on my list.

Perhaps the biggest complaint I hear about okra is how slimy it is, but there are ways to get around this. As noted in this blog, oil-based cooking works better than water-based cooking. I've also heard that cooking them whole works better than slicing them, but I haven't tried this technique yet. Overall, I would say my okra experience includes a mild slime, but it's not so bad. Probably my best results come from mixing it with a lot of other stuff, such as the omelets and fajitas. It blends pretty seamlessly, and therefore slime-lessly. Truth be told, I don't even notice it most of the time, and neither does my husband when I sneak it in his food.

 Eggplant has been more of a problem for me.

My first eggplant experiment was awesome. I made this eggplant burger and it was such an excellent meat substitute:

Mmm... cheesy.

Eggplant Burgers (from Simply in Season, p. 143)

2 tablespoons oil

2 teaspoons wine vinegar or balsamic vinegar

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

Whisk together in a small bowl. Cut 1 large eggplant into 1/4-inch thick slices to make 12-16 slices. Brush with oil mixture. Place on grill over medium-high heat. Close lid and cook, turning and brushing occasionally with remaining oil mixture, until tender, 5-10 minutes. Remove from grill. (Eggplant slices may be cooked under the broiler or sautéed in a fry pan until tender.

Simply in Season recommends adding cheese, tomatoes, red peppers, fresh basil leaves, etc. I just added the cheese, which was perfect.

After the excellent first attempt, I thought eggplant would be another successful venture. But I was wrong. Oh so wrong.

I tried a few other recipes and I just couldn't get them right. The eggplant always came out wet and chewy. It wasn't bad, but I just didn't like it very much, and it quickly became difficult finding ways to eat it. Here are some that I tried and maybe I'll try them again later and see if I have better luck.

Spicy Roasted Eggplant (from Simply in Season, p. 121)

1/2 cup fresh cilantro sprigs (chopped)

1/4 cup olive oil

2 tablespoons lemon juice

2 teaspoons ground cumin

1 teaspoon ground coriander

pinch of ground cinnamon

Stir together. Cut 1 large eggplant in 1/4-inch slices. Brush cilantro mixture on both sides of eggplant slices and transfer to greased baking pan. Broil eggplant 5-6 inches from heat until golden and cooked through, about 10 minutes. Salt and pepper to taste.

Results:

Meh.

Broiled Eggplant with Crunchy Parmesan Crust (From Farmer John's Cookbook, p. 177. I used their recipe for making my own mayonnaise, but I did a pretty bad job. I think it's one of those things you have to follow the directions closely, or else. Maybe I'll make/buy better mayo and this will turn out better next time. Also, you can never have too much cheese.)

Oil for greasing the baking sheet

mayonnaise

eggplant, cut into 1/4-inch slices

freshly grated Parmesan cheese (about 1/2 cup)

1. Preheat the broiler. Lightly oil a baking sheet.

2. Spread mayonnaise sparingly on both sides of each eggplant slice, then dip the slices in the grated Parmesan cheese, thoroughly coating both sides.

3. Arrange slices in a single layer on the oiled baking sheet and place under broiler until golden brown, about 3 minutes. Flip the slices and broil until golden brown and crunchy on top and the eggplant is soft, about 3 minutes more.

Result:

Served with pan-crusted tilapia, bread, and of course, fried okra

I really think the mayo was to blame for this one. I'm going to retry it later. And maybe make the mayo right this time.

The Move

Well readers, in case you were unaware, I have moved to Houston. Hence my extended absence...again. But fear not, I have been busy cooking and eating up a storm! But first, I went shopping.

In order to get out of my fast food rut (it's not easy to eat healthy when all your food is boxed up and you're on the road, so no judgment!), I made a trip to the farmers market at Rice University. The market is every Tuesday afternoon and, I believe (*insert middle school girl squeals here*), it's year round!

I was a little afraid of what I would find there since Texas is a little less *ahem* tree-hugger than my previous community. I thought it might be difficult to find organic growers or humanely raised animal products. But I was pleasantly surprised to find that over half of the farms at the market were either certified organic or followed organic principles but were not certified. Even better was that each farm had a large banner proudly proclaiming their status, making my shopping much more efficient and less awkward.

In all seriousness, I hate walking up to a stand and not buying anything. I feel like a bitch when I just look and decide there isn't anything I want or the next vendor over is selling it cheaper. I really don't have the guts to walk up and ask about a farmer's growing practices and walk away if I don't approve, so I'm glad I don't have to do that.

While at the market the first time, I picked up some old favorites like tomatoes, green peppers, and eggs (though the egg lady offered me duck eggs as well...I may have to take her up on that later!), but I also got some hummus, some AMAZING feta cheese and some new things to try, including okra and eggplant (which I will blog about later). I also got some spare ribs and some beef stew meat.

Overall, I'm very satisfied with my new farmers market, and I'm excited to visit a different one this or next weekend, but I do have a few grumblings/complaints:

1. The market is kind of small, but I may find the weekend market larger and with more selection, so we'll see.
2. It's kind of expensive, but most of the food seems more expensive here, so I may just have to get used to it. I'm trying to buy less junk, so that should help my food budget a bit.
3. There are hardly any fruits for sale. Seriously, one or two stands had watermelon and one conventional stand had peaches. That was it. I am going through fruit withdrawal. But perhaps the weekend market will suffice my need for fruit as well, so we'll see and I'll report back.

I went to the market this week as well, and I skipped the okra and eggplant because I still had some leftover, but I picked up some local honey. Interesting fact: Honey helps fight allergies because you get a mild exposure to the local pollen through the honey, so it is especially important to buy local! (Note: I looked into this and the New York Times wrote about a study that disproves this theory, so this may not be true. The NYT said most pollen allergens are wind borne rather than insect borne, so you would not be getting exposed to the same kinds of pollens. HOWEVER, I found another article that suggests some pollens are both wind and insect borne, and if those are the pollens you're allergic to, then you would see improvements when eating local honey, so it may be worth investigating further...)

For the rest of my shopping needs, I was excited to find out there was a Whole Foods near my new home! Whole Foods is very similar to the co-op I used to shop at, but bigger and better! The produce section was probably twice as big, and they had a separate fish counter from the meat counter. The fish are MSC-certified and Whole Foods has a lot of control over their supply and their sources, making sure they are properly maintained. They had an even bigger selection of bread made in-house, and a huge wine selection that I have yet to check out.

I was delighted to see they had local milk in quart containers (that's really all I can drink before it goes bad) and I got this Peaches and Cream milk that was also local (and fabulous) in a quart container. I got some yummy rosemary sourdough bread, some catfish, gulf shrimp, lemons, sour cream, butter, spaghetti sauce, and some seasonings. But of course, it wasn't perfect:

1. They only had one kind of butter in a tub, and it was the exact same brand and type as they had at the co-op (which I hated). But I remedied this by putting one of my butter sticks (which I had several options to choose from) in my butter dish and left it out on the counter.
2. The wait was terrible. I had to wait ten minutes before someone could help me at the fish counter and about 15 minutes to get cashed out. It seems like they need to build another location so that half of the people will go somewhere else!

One random perk is that the co-op used to charge extra if you didn't bring your own bags but Whole Foods gives you a ten cent discount for every bag you bring, so I can lightly pack several bags and save even more...win!

I've made a couple random trips to the regular grocery stores for odds and ends (like s'mores ingredients) as well. Mostly I've gone to Kroger because it's closest, but I don't really like it. My husband really likes Albertson's and so he usually shops there (I'm addicted to their Yahtzee scratch cards). I've seen a few Fiestas around and I'm kind of scared to go in because they seem kind of... too focused to price and not on quality. I like H-E-B, it's probably the closest thing to my old grocery store, so once I find one nearby, I'll probably use it to find all those random things Whole Foods doesn't have.

PS: I'm blogging via phone because I dont have my Internet hooked up yet, so please excuse any spelling errors. They are hard to find on here, but I will go through and edit this later!

Poached Eggs and Hollandaise

For this week's recipe from one of my grandmother's cookbooks, I chose to make poached eggs and hollandaise sauce from Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I made deviled eggs last night, which my husband and I nearly instantaneously devoured, so I was kind of on an egg kick already.

I loved the scene in the film Julie & Julia where Julie attempts to make poached eggs, and I thought there was no way it could be that hard. My cooks at work do it all the time and it never turns out like that soupy mess she made. But I hadn't yet done it myself, so I figured now was the time to learn.

I felt like the poached egg thing was kind of cheating because I already knew the basics on how to poach an egg (just break the egg over boiling water and wait til it's done cooking), and so it wasn't much of a recipe. So, I opted to do two "recipes" this week and finally learn how to make hollandaise sauce as well, because, let's face it, I wanted to learn how to take angels and unicorns and make them into the most delicious elixir known to man.

Surprisingly, Julia's recipe did not call for angels, unicorns, or any other mythical creatures. I chose the blender recipe (p. 81-2), which is actually incredibly simple and still tremendously yummy. Julia claims an 8-year-old child could make it, and I'm fairly certain that's still true. Here is the recipe, it makes about 3/4 cup:

3 egg yolks
2 T. lemon juice
1/4 tsp salt
Pinch of pepper
1 stick butter

Place the egg yolks, lemon juice, and seasonings in the blender jar (or the Magic Bullet).
Cut the butter into pieces and heat it to foaming hot in a small saucepan (or microwave).
Cover the jar and blend the egg yolk mixture at top speed for 2 seconds. Uncover, and still blending (or not, in my case), immediately start pouring on the hot butter in a thin stream of droplets. (You may need to protect yourself with a towel during this operation.) By the time two thirds of the butter has gone in, the sauce will be a thick cream. Omit the milky residue at the bottom of the butter pan. Taste the sauce, and blend in more seasonings if necessary.
(*) If not used immediately, set the jar in tepid, but not warm, water.

Done. 3/4 cup of Heaven ready to go. This recipe is much more lemony than the one we use at work, but it's quite amazing and I have zero complaints. However, since it's on the lemony side, I would not be opposed to halving the amount of lemon and focusing on the delicious buttery goodness.

Next I began to make my poached eggs. Here is Julia's recipe:

Pour 2 inches of water into the pan or skillet and add 1 tablespoon of vinegar per quart of water. Bring to the simmer.
Break one of the eggs, and, holding it as closely over the water as possible, let it fall in. Immediately and gently push the white over the yolk with a wooden spoon for 2 to 3 seconds. Maintain the water at the barest simmer and proceed with the other eggs in the same manner. After 4 minutes, remove the first egg with the skimmer and test with your finger. The white should be set, the yolk still soft to the touch. Place the egg in the cold water; this washes off the vinegar and stops the cooking. Remove the rest of the eggs as they are done, and poach others in the same water if you are dong more.
(*) The eggs may remain for several hours in cold water, or may be drained and refrigerated.

Alright, I said, this seems simple enough. I broke my first egg and, mere centimeters from the water, I dropped it in. I went for the wooden spoon, but it was already too late. The whites had gone everywhere. I tried to keep them together, but it just would not happen. Here is the final result.

I'd like to call this style of egg "Poached Scrambled"

So, that was an utter failure. For the second egg, I ditched the wooden spoon and went for the larger silicon spoon thinking, the only reason Julia didn't use a silicon spoon was because she didn't have one. I decided this time to put the spoon in the water so that it would be immediately ready to rein in the wily whites. I tried to get even closer to the water when I dropped in the second egg, and once again the whites went everywhere. I did manage to keep the egg intact, though, as you can see below.

This one actually looks like it could've been served at the restaurant, but certainly not one of our best.

So Egg #2 was a solid improvement, but I wanted more. This time, I thought, what if I crack the egg into the spoon and then put the spoon and egg in the water simultaneously? Brilliant, I thought. So I set the spoon down on the stove top, cracked open the egg over the spoon and then...

Yeah... that's Egg #3 down there.

The egg managed to slide right off the spoon, through the heat coils and down through the dip pan into limbo. I momentarily panicked not knowing how to get the egg out of there. Will it fall into the oven? Will it just burn up when I use those coils next? What if my stove smells like eggs forever?! Luckily, the drip pan actually comes right off and I could stick my hand and a paper towel down into limbo to snatch it up.

Not to be deterred by this obviously bad idea, I tried it again. This time, however, I realized that there's more in the egg than can fit in the spoon, but I managed to keep it mostly together until it got to the water, where it once again went everywhere.

Egg #4

The end result was better than the poached scrambled monstrosity known as Egg #1, but not nearly as good as Egg #2, in which the yolk was still soft, but I figured I at least had enough egg to make a sort of Eggs Benedict with my creations.

I toasted and buttered a large piece of sourdough bread and topped it with Egg #2 and Egg #4 and then smothered the whole thing in my hollandaise (which I reheated immediately prior). It was phenomenal.

Tada!

I garnished with a little paprika, but forgot to take a picture afterward (actually, I was just really hungry). But as I said, great breakfast and once I master egg poaching, it should be relatively easy to repeat.

Peanut Butter Soup and Banana Bread

So after three weeks, I'm finally back. I could try to give you some sort of long-winded, trite explanation, but I'm pretty sure I can just boil it down to being lazy. My cooking has suffered slightly, but rest assured, I have maintained my goal of trying one recipe each week from my grandmother's cookbooks. Sort of.

I kind of wimped out the week after making crepes, so I did two last week to make up for it. I still have to do one this week, hopefully today if not tomorrow.

But on to the main dish, I say. Last week I made two recipes from the Pomeranian cookbook (and for those interested, here is more information on Pomerania). My mother's side is very German/Pommern and I believe this cookbook is our very extended family's collection of Pommern recipes. My grandpa, being the semi-pro genealogist/historian that he is, could probably give me a very detailed explanation of where this cookbook came from and who all these people in it are and more than three generations worth of information on Pomerania, but I'm behind on my blog so I'm going to skip all that today.

The two recipes I chose were Wallace H.'s for Peanut Butter Soup and Beverly D.'s for Banana Bread. Now, I know what you're thinking: Neither bananas nor peanuts are grown in Europe...how are these considered "Pommern" recipes?! I should probably clarify then that these are, in all likelihood, Pommern-American recipes, but they seemed pretty wholesome overall, so I tried them anyway.

I chose the peanut butter soup one because, well, it sounded awful. I couldn't believe someone would make something so ridiculous sounding as peanut butter soup and actually eat it. And then I thought, well, if it sounds so bad, it's probably actually surprisingly good or no one would try it. So I did try it. Here is the recipe below:

1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup diced onion
1 large rib of celery, diced
1 1/2 T. flour
4 cups chicken stock or broth, hot
4 oz. creamy peanut butter (about 1/2 cup)
1/2 t. salt or to taste
1 1/2 t. lemon juice

In 4 quart saucepan, melt butter over medium heat. Add onion and celery. Saute till limp, 3-5 minutes. Stir in flour all at once. Cook, stirring constantly, 1 minute. Gradually whisk hot chicken stock, bring to boil, then reduce to simmer for 30 minutes. Remove from heat. Strain soup to remove vegetables. Stir peanut butter, salt, and lemon juice into strained liquid. Return to saucepan to reheat to serving temperature. Makes about 6 servings.

I did end up sauteing the onion and celery very well done, but since I was straining them out later, I wasn't too concerned and figured the burnt-ness might add some extra flavor. I used organic peanut butter instead of traditional to make it a little healthier, and I don't know if it was that or the fact that it was peanut butter that made it kind of hard to fully stir it into the soup, but I think with more heat it would've been a little better mixed.

Bottom line though, it was interesting. I didn't hate it, but I didn't really love it. I enjoyed the nutty flavor from it that you don't really taste in soup, but because it was essentially broth, there really wasn't much to it and I didn't find it very satisfying. I considered adding things to make it more filling, but I didn't have any great ideas about what would taste good in a nutty soup like this. If anyone else has an idea, I'd be willing to retry the recipe. Otherwise, I think once was enough for me.

The banana bread recipe was chosen because, let's face it, who doesn't love banana bread? I don't think I've ever made it, but I know a lot of people do it all the time and so it's something I've always wanted to make. Plus, this recipe doesn't call for nuts and I hate nuts in my baked goods. There's just something about having crunchy bits in my soft and moist breads and cakes and cookies that just ruins it for me, so to have a recipe on hand that excludes them seemed perfect. Here is Bev's take on banana bread:

1/2 cup butter
1 cup sugar
2 large or 3 small bananas
3 T. milk or cream
2 eggs, beaten
2 cups flour
1/2 t. baking powder
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt

Mash the bananas. Mix in the order mentioned. Bake in a moderate oven, 350 degrees, for 45 minutes. More milk may be added if the batter is too stiff. This bread is nice if baked in empty tin cans to make a round loaf.

The recipe was easy enough. I didn't even use especially ripe (re: BAD) bananas. They were on the brown side but still very much edible. I didn't really understand the bit about tin cans so I just put it in a glass pan about the size of a medium loaf and cooked as the directions called. When I pulled it out of the oven, it looked perfectly brown on the outside and light and tasty on the inside.

Then I let it cool down and it became obvious that the inside was not quite done yet. I probably could've done the toothpick check and seen this, but it looked too good to not be done. If you're going to use a glass pan like me (rather than this whole tin can business), I would recommend lowering the temperature slightly (maybe 325°) and going for an hour or so. In the end, there was a bit of goopiness in the middle, but it was quite delicious despite this. I'll definitely remake this at some point and see if I can perfect the cooking time.**

I still haven't found something in the PTA book, and I think the real issue is that 90% of that book is desserts and I'm a little dessert-ed out. I will eventually make something, but I also need to find a recipe in Julia Child's holy grail of French cooking. So we'll see what I'm in the mood for today.

Also to note, my husband and I made a combined red cake and it turned out...interesting. First, we (re: my husband) dropped one of the layers on the floor right before it was to go in the oven, so we made a little cake with two layers instead of the full thing. Whether it was the missing batter in the oven or my insistence on using butter that hardened the remaining cake, I don't know, but it was not as moist as before, though it still tasted good. We compromised on one tablespoon of cocoa (to my husband's chagrin) and went 50/50 with butter and shortening. We used my recipe for frosting in its entirety and it actually turned out even better than the first time because it thickened up much more. We'll have to keep tinkering away at this until it's perfected, but I think we need a break from red cake, which is probably why I made this fabulous (and fabulously bad for me) S'mores Cake last night.

I have been keeping busy and have a lot to catch up on, so I'll post more today/tomorrow.

**EDIT: My friend (who suffers the same problem with her banana bread as I did mine) offers this advice: Banana Muffins. Her loaf recipe makes about 18 muffins, bake for 20 minutes.

Butter

Last week, my cousin posted an article about making your own organic butter on Facebook. Ah ha! I said to myself, This will be perfect for my blog! So since I'm working doubles the entire weekend, I figured I should get this one in before I do nothing but eat, sleep, and work for the next couple days.

But first a few notes about the butter and margarine debate. I think we used butter mostly at my house, but I can't say for sure. I think it was pretty interchangeable, but from what I can remember, we had Land O Lakes butter sitting out on the table (rarely in the fridge) most of the time. I liked that we kept it at room temperature because it was actually possible to spread it on foods that were not scalding hot.

When I got married, I'm pretty sure we switched over to margarine, because that's what my husband was used to using, and I didn't have much of a preference at the time. But then I found out the awful truth about margarine: It's bad for you.

Long story short, it's imitation butter. And imitation is never better than the real thing. It goes back to the removal of the saturated fats and replacing it with scientifically engineered compounds like trans-fats, and we all know trans-fats are big no-nos.

So then I tried buying butter at the co-op grocery store. Surprisingly, they had about 15 different kinds of margarine and exactly one kind of butter. Sweet cream butter that had to be refrigerated and was hard as a rock. This would not fly with my husband. So we went back to the margarine until I recently found Land O Lakes spreadable butter with canola oil at the regular grocery store. They had a few more options there as well, but I'm happy with the canola oil mix for now and my husband will use it so everyone is satisfied.

So anyway, I decided on a whim at about 8 o'clock tonight to make my own butter using the article I mentioned previously. It claimed the process took ten minutes, so I figured why not?

I had already obtained organic heavy whipping cream ahead of time, and the only other ingredients are an electric mixer, ice water, and sea salt (to taste), so I was ready to go a few minutes after eight. The first step was to mix the whipping cream until it became a butter-like substance, which, supposedly takes about 10 minutes. I think it ended up taking me closer to 20, but it was a bit extended because I had to check the bowl several times to see if buttermilk was separating from the butter at the bottom. When it was finally separated, I had to find a couple containers appropriate for saving the buttermilk and coax said liquid into the containers while simultaneously not including the butter. This probably took another five minutes or so.

After that I had to check my freezer to see if we had ice cubes ready (we did, yay!) and pour the ice water into the bowl to wash the butter and try to remove more buttermilk. I washed it three times and the water began running clearer, so I figured I was good to go. The last step was to remove the rest of the liquid and then salt and wrap it up. Well, this whole removing the rest of the liquid part was probably the most time consuming part of the task. I squeezed and squeezed out liquid with my spoonula until I couldn't get any more out and so I went to salt and wrap up the butter and call it a day. But when I picked it up and tried to mold it into some cute, square-ish shape, I realized there was a ton of liquid still inside the butter ball. So I tried squeezing out more liquid with the spoonula, but none would come out. I finally resorted to squeezing out the liquid as best I could with my bare hands until I finally gave up and figured it was good enough. This whole process probably took me another 20 minutes or so.

Then there was the task of trying to figure out how to shape it into a cute little butter block. Well, I didn't really have any ideas, so after a few sorry attempts I ended up just lining a storage container with wax paper and shaping the butter to the container shape. I think in the end it took me about 50 minutes from start to finish, but I think I could shorten this to about 30 minutes or so once I've done it a few more times. I plan on taking some of the butter to work tomorrow and trying it out, along with some of the buttermilk. I think I'll put the butter on my roasted garlic sourdough bread I bought to go with the lasagna I made for lunch (and have for leftovers tomorrow!). No idea on the buttermilk. I may just add it to some oatmeal. Pretty excited about the whole thing, nonetheless.

In other news, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle is fascinating and makes me want to garden more than ever. I'm very disappointed that I'll be moving mid-summer and so a garden is out of the question again this year. Last year they dug up my backyard to do work on the downstairs duplex, so it was a no go. Before that I didn't have yard space to call my own, so I haven't had the chance to try it out. Hopefully next year though. However, I just got done reading the part where the author learned how to make cheese, and it seems about as easy as making butter, so I think that will be my next project.