spinach and mushroom bread pudding

All right, I'll admit it.

I'm bad with bread.

Most of the time, I try to avoid bread, knowing this. If I had my way, I would pick up a freshly baked loaf every day. I get depressed at the notion of bread that is doomed to the fate of resealable plastic ties. In general, my rule is, if the bag it comes in seals, then it isn't worth eating.

Naturally, this poses a problem for the feasibility of my bread consumption. It does not keep well. And, while the tortilla challenge of last week was entertainingly delicious (in which I successfully burrito-ed, cheese quesadilla-ed, and enchilada-ed myself to glory, FINALLY managing for the first time in my adult life to finish an entire bag of tortillas before the last few dried out), there's only so much love that I can give to sandwiches.

I know, I know. 'But sandwiches are delicious! And versatile!' you're saying. And yes, these this is true. Soon I will buckle down and try to come up with a good grocery list for a week-long sandwich challenge. Unfortunately, the sandwich's structure is not, shall we say, renowned for its longevity or constitution. So, since every given day usually involves running around for several hours in and between unrefrigerated places, the glory of the intricately stacked sandwich tends to make a remarkably swift transition to Sogville.

Despite all of these things, sometimes I can't resist. I walk past the bread in the bakery, and I'm doomed. In this particular instance, creamy roasted pepper soup was to blame. I had soup on the brain, knowing that the clock was ticking on the opened carton after making these babies.

So, despite my better judgment, I got a french baguette. I sawed off a fourth of it, and had a blissful soup experience.

And then I promptly forgot about the rest of it.


Cleaning my kitchen this afternoon, I stumbled upon it. Or rather, I practically cracked my knuckles against it in passing, since at that point, it was creeping its way towards the consistency of petrified wood.

After uttering a colorful menagerie of salty language, I was about to toss it into the bin when I dawned on me: bread pudding.

Spinach and Mushroom Bread Pudding

INGREDIENTS:

7-8 oz. firm tofu (I used half of a 15.5 oz twin pack)
2 tablespoons mustard (if you can, try to grab Trader Joe's Garlic Aioli Mustard - heaven!)
1 tsp peppercorns, crushed

1 cup almond milk
4 oz crimini mushrooms, sliced
1/4 cup basil, chopped
1 head garlic, minced
1 shallot, minced

1 tsp thyme
1/4 tsp rosemary

3-4 cups stale bread, cubed (i guesstimated with 3/4 of a stale baguette)

2 cups spinach leaves
9 slices of fresh mozzarella cheese

INSTRUCTIONS:

Preheat oven to 400 degrees

Saute mushrooms over medium heat until tender. Set aside.

Mash tofu, almond milk, shallots, garlic, and mustard together until well incorporated.

Add peppercorns, thyme, rosemary, and salt to taste.

Stir in spinach and mushrooms.

Add bread cubes and basil. Toss until well incorporated. Prod one of the cubes to make sure that it seems to be softening - if not, then add a bit more almond milk.

Spread into 9x13 baking pan and place mozzarella slices on top.

Bake at 400 degrees for 30-40 min, or until the cheese is brown and bubbling

(p.s: i realize i've been bad about logging groceries. i've stopped doing huge weekly grocery runs because i was tired of having my mushrooms be shriveled or my basil wilted by the time i got round to the recipes i wanted to make. so instead, i've been just running to the store(s) before cooking, since we're lucky to be so close. today i grabbed mushrooms (half of a package at $1.69), garlic aioli mustard ($2.49), almond milk ($1.69).

Mushroom & Barley Pie

everyone has at least a few staple foods that they always have on hand. for some people, it's Top Ramen. Others have more nutritious go-to items, like carrot sticks and granola bars. Some people (and these friends are the best kind to have!) always can be counted on for having freshly ground coffee or beer on hand.

my current cooking repertoire is well-perfected, but admittedly...unambitious. pasta, rice, and quinoa are my go-to items, usually augmented with an inordinate amount of garlic (by other people's standards), clams, or a handful of standard vegetables like onions, tomatoes, or mushrooms.

SO. the resolution is to start trying recipes that contain most of the staples that i already have on hand, supplemented with a few other inexpensive ingredients.

i picked this recipe because i have always had a soft spot for savory pies. i blame reading this on reading too many redwall books as a kid - i remember skipping over lengthy descriptions of battle scenes to drool over the descriptions of the epic feasts that the animals would throw after they inevitably vanquished whatever bad guy(s) was in town. (am i alone on this? am i a nostalgic idiot sometimes? these questions are beside the point.)

but i digress. point is, i have a lot of spare time to spend on the internet, i may or may not have googled "redwall pasty recipe" because i'm subject to incredibly persuasive and completely random food cravings...and here we are.

Mushroom & Barley Pie
[adapted wildly from a smorgasbord of sources, most prominantly from What Smells So Good? and Smitten Kitchen]

INGREDIENTS:

1 cup barley
6 cups water
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 head roasted garlic
1 medium onion, chopped
1/2 pound cremini mushrooms, sliced
1/2 cup feta cheese
1 (1-pound) package frozen puff pastry, thawed
1 egg yolk, beaten with 1 teaspoon water and a pinch of salt

The night before: soak barley in 6 cups water. The recipe can use pearl barley, but using hulled barley leaves the bran intact/is less processed/has more fiber, blah blah. If you use pearl barley, you don't have to presoak.

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Bring barley (still in water that you presoaked in) to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer until tender (around 1 hour). Drain and cool. (Reserve the barley water! You can water it down, add a little bit of honey, and drink it on its own.)

2. Take pastry out of the freezer to thaw.

3. While barley or farro cooks, cook onion in large saucepan over medium heat for 1 minute, then add the mushrooms. Cook on medium-high heat until mushrooms are soft (about 5-8 minutes). Cool.

4. Add barley to mushroom/onion mixture, then add feta and roasted garlic. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

5. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

6. Roll out thawed pastry into two 9x12" sheets. Spoon filling over pastry, leaving a 1" border.

7. Brush border with egg wash, then place the second sheet on top. Press edges to seal, then crimp edges. Brush the top of the pie with remaining egg wash. Cut steam vents on top of pie.

8. Bake on middle rack of preheated oven for about 45 minutes, or under pastry is puffed and brown.

In the pie that I had made, I'd added some sun-dried tomatoes, which turned out to be an awful idea - the tomatoes completely overpowered the other flavors, so I've omitted it in the recipe above.

Another thought is that though I had been quite conservative with some of the ingredient quantities from previous recipes, it still made an enormous pie. An enormous pie that my vegan roommate can't really help me finish. So, if any of you out there are keen on having any of the leftovers and are willing to come to me, you know who to call.

Also, today is FINALLY when I'm allowed to shop for groceries again. Hallelujah!

spinach breakfast salad

Don't get me wrong. I love breakfast foods. I love breakfast foods with a reverence and respect that is usually reserved for dudes with golden halos. Crispy almost-burned hash browns give me shivers. I am probably never going to procreate, lest I be tempted to trade my first-born for a perfectly browned pancake.

That being said, there is one drawback to the all-American breakfast. Once you're done with your Denny's slammer breakfast of pancakes, sausages, eggs, biscuits and gravy, all dunked liberally in butter, you're only prepared to do one thing: go back to bed.

Being as I had a manic day ahead of me, I didn't have the time to indulge in the wonderful world of breakfast. What I did have, however, was a bag filled with freezer-burned vegetarian sausage patties, some spinach that was on the verge of wiltage, and an assortment of random vegetables.

So, in the spirit of experimentation, extreme hunger, and low expectations (I should have thought to snap a "before" picture of the sausage patties - they were in pretty sad shape) - I threw it all together. And it was delicious! So delicious, in fact, that I tried making it again, this time with a freshly opened package of veggie sausage. And guess what? It wasn't as good. The excess water that came from the melted freezerburn actually resulted in the creation of some meatlike gravy that became the perfect substitute for salad dressing. No olive oil required. So file this one away as a recipe to salvage the saddest foods.

Spinach Breakfast Salad

INGREDIENTS

2 cups spinach, chopped


1/4 cup carrots, preferably shredded (I only had baby carrots)

3 stalks of green onions

1 tomato

5 sausage patties, with freezerburn (I used Morning Glory veggie sausage, but can obviously be of the Real Meat variety as well)

Salt and pepper, to taste

DIRECTIONS

Cook sausage on medium heat until brown. Remove, leaving liquid in pan.

Chop all vegetables and sausage. Throw all the veggies into the pan, and toss to coat.

Season with salt and pepper to taste.

So yeah. Not the fanciest of recipes. But, I think the advertising euphemism would be, 'easy'. Takes ten minutes to make, tops. And let's face it, when was the last time that you've ever seen a recipe that called for x recipe, freezerburned? Yeah. Didn't think so.

p.s; sorry for the dearth in posts. am actually cooking quite a lot, but haven't had the time to update. will be catching up, today and tomorrow!

rum balls

I was not having a good day.

Sunday, (that is, yesterday), I woke up late. Normally, this would not be a big deal, all things considered. Though I'm notorious for cramming my schedule to the brim with various obligations, I consider my Lazy Sundays to be sacred, serious business.

Except for this Sunday, which was, non-coincidentally, the day before the first day of winter quarter. This is also normally not a big deal. One of the many perks of being an art student is, well...work is play. There are no tests, no menial assignments, no group activities that inevitably require spending far too much time in the vicinity of the Axe-wearing population. Wait, did I say 'wearing'? I actually meant, 'drenched'. In fact, just working on my thesis work these past couple of quarters has, in effect, totally divorced me from the academic life cycle of the typical college student. Until I decided to start and finish a minor in two quarters.

On this Sunday, I not only needed to order textbooks (because, oops, forgot that Real college classes require those), and try to remember what it's like to be an actual college student - I also had signed up to make dinner for friends. Eight friends. It wasn't until after the invitations had been haphazardly issued that I realized: my apartment doesn't even have eight chairs. However, what it lacked in furniture, it compensated for in filthiness (a combined effort from: my propensity for cooking complicated meals, evenings that often result an impressive volume of recyclables, and a cooperative laziness in that whole "taking-out-the-trash" activity that I hear that mature, grown-up people do sometimes).

Needless to say, there were about five or six full trips worth of trash and recyclables to take out. In my slightly deranged haste, I forgot my keys on the kitchen table when I took out the first load.

Of course, the "oh shit" moment of realization dawned on me right when the deadbolt was clicking into place. I panicked. Not only was my roommate at work, I also didn't have my wallet. Or a coat. So I did the only thing that I could have done, given the circumstances. I took out the damn trash.

On my way back in, I frantically flagged down my sassy neighbor to see whether she had my building manager's phone number. I was positive that she would, given that she's the type to hang out on her balcony to put the drivers of illegal parked cars in their place. So I fully expected that she would be able to help me out. What I was not expecting was for her to point towards the floor above us (we have an open courtyard layout), and say, "Oh. Joe? He's right there."

I wish I was joking when I confess that Handel's Messiah actually starts playing in my head when this happens. Looking up, I behold the first glorious sight of my grizzled, bandanna-wearing landlord waving with his epic ring of keys - one of which could let me back inside my warm (slightly less smelly) apartment!

I was so giddy with relief (and harried, as I still had a mess of an apartment to contend with, and a meal to make), and so preoccupied with entertaining thoughts of what I would have done had Joe not been conveniently to the rescue that - I did it again.

Now, this was not my proudest moment. But, I figured, I had just seen Joe. It would be embarrassing to come crawling back to his apartment, but it wouldn't be beneath me. So, I ashamedly went up and timidly knocked on his door. Then waited awhile. Then, thinking that perhaps I had knocked too softly, knocked again. Then waited some more.

When it became clear that he wasn't home, I contemplated my options. And by options, I mean "trying to finagle the screen out of the only outfacing window to our apartment". Only thing was, in my hurry, I miscounted the windows. A pertinent point that becomes clear minutes later, as my neighbor judo-death-chops his hand through the venetian blinds to give me the stank-eye. Just as I am getting the screen off his window. To his apartment. Once we both get over nearly pooping ourselves in surprise, he turned out to be a pretty nice guy. A pretty nice guy who also happened to have Joe's phone number on his fridge.

So, a quick call and an hour and a half later, I was back. In my warm, even less smelly apartment. And I really could have used a drink. But, as I had been up for less than two hours (1.5 of those which were spent waiting to be let back in), I decided that making these would probably be better form. And hot diggity, what a great decision that was.

Rum Balls
[only slightly tweaked from Everyone Likes Sandwiches]

INGREDIENTS

• 3 cups pecans
• 2 1/2 cups vanilla cookies
• 1 cup powdered sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 4 tablespoons dark cocoa powder
• 4 tablespoons molasses
• 1/2 cup amber rum

DIRECTIONS

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Toss pecans on a baking sheet, for about 10 minutes, or until you can smell them. Cool, and chop coarsely.

While pecans are toasting, crush the cookies into mostly powder.

In a large bowl, combine chopped pecans, cookies, powdered sugar, cinnamon, and cocoa.

Add the molasses and rum, and mix well.

Try not to nip from the bottle.

Chill for at least 1 hour.

Try not to eat the dough.

Roll mixture into bite-size balls and roll in powdered sugar.

They were perfect. Smashing helpless cookies to smithereens with a blunt object? Great outlet for pent-up frustration. No baking required, which was particularly helpful in my current state of mind. Bite-sized, and an easy candy alternative. Oh, and did I mention that they pack a bit of a punch?


Good thing I made a double batch. More than enough for me, and apology gifts for my next door neighbor and building manager. Everyone wins!

curried sweet potato and rice soup

for new years eve, my roommate and I decided to stay in and make dinner.

our new years eve consisted of (in the following order):

1. taking a nap
2. taking a power bath with a book (think power shower, but in bath form - bliss!)
   
3. making this soup
4. making the decision to stay in
5. beer, wine, and prosecco
6. deciding to ring in the new year listening to gwen stefani's 'what are you waiting for'
7. missing the actual arrival of the new decade (!), thanks to the fact that the website that that we had loaded with the new years countdown had frozen
8. having a miniature dance party to santigold in the living room
9. ending up going out anyway

in retrospect, we probably knew that it was inevitable. but luckily, the brunt of our new years activities were absorbed quite nicely with being full of this delicious, delicious soup.


it's that time of year. in seattle, this means the beginning of three long months of not seeing the sun, and being constantly damp (not wet - this city specializes in doling out just enough constant drizzle to warrant being unbearably damp while being just short enough of moisture to warrant opening an umbrella). not to mention coming down with seasonal depression.

and that, my chickadees, is when we collectively thank god for SOUP.

i had a couple of leftover sweet potatoes maxin' and relaxin' in my fridge, leftover refugees from Thanksgiving. i had originally planned on just throwing them in the oven and roasting them until they were caramelized and gooey. this was one of the few things from the Thanksgivings of my childgood that my mom and I could agree on because it was so easy to make. (step one: preheat oven to 425. step two: throw potatoes in oven. step three: take out of oven after an hour. step four: eat.)

but, given my sort-of new years resolution - (let's just call it a resolution, shall we? i feel like anything that is labeled as a New Years Resolution is doomed to failure around, oh, February) - coming across this recipe seemed pretty kismet. and what a recipe it is! slightly more work than just chucking them in the oven, but not too much more. and definitely worth that extra effort.

Curried Sweet Potato and Rice Soup
[adapted from Happy Herbivore]

INGREDIENTS

• 2 whole large sweet potatoes, cooked
• 1 whole sweet onion, diced
• 6 whole garlic cloves, minced
• 2 cups vegetable broth
• 2 tsp mild curry powder
• 0.25 tsp chili powder
• 1 cup rice milk
• 1/2 cup rice, cooked (I used a blend of white, brown, wild, and red)
  

INSTRUCTIONS:

Preheat oven to 425F. Bake sweet potatoes until just slightly overdone, about 1 hour, 15 minutes. Allow to completely cool, then peel away the skin and discard. Or eat. Whatever floats your boat.

Mash potatoes in a medium bowl - if you have just overcooked the potatoes, you should be able to do this without a blender.

In a medium saucepan, combine onion, garlic, broth, curry and chili powder. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover and simmer until onions are translucent (about 5 to 7 minutes).

Transfer mixture to potato puree, add rice milk, and mix thoroughly.

Return to saucepan and heat thoroughly. Season to taste.

Ladle into a bowl, spoon warm wild rice into the center, and serve.

The result? Soup that was rich and creamy. Sweet, with just a little kick from the chili powder, with a little crunch from the onions, and a little chewy, from the rice. Amazing. And delicious! I doubled the original recipe because I had two potatoes instead of the 1 that it had called for - and because I figured that the leftovers would be just as good cold, if not better.

Turns out that it was just enough to make two hearty bowls for 2 - so if you want leftovers, think about doubling the recipe above. Another thought that would have been delicious, had I had some on hand, would have been a bit of fresh cilantro on top.

Happy new year, dumplings!

Greek Pasta Salad with Roasted Vegetables

I have never been a fan of salads.

Call it a residual leftover from childhood. Maybe it’s cultural conditioning (not going to lie, I still harbor an immature…wariness of Brussels sprouts), maybe it was the time where I vividly remember almost choking to death on spinach as a kid (I’m not making this up), maybe I’m just not really anything that’s not drenched in salt, sugar, or butter. So sue me.

That being said, I’m not a completely unhealthy person. I’ve never deep-fried anything in my life. When I cook for myself, I'm mostly vegetarian. The majority of the things that I spy on This is Why You’re Fat makes my arteries feel more clogged just through visual consumption (though, handy tip: the site is an excellent appetite-suppressant if you are trying to hold out a little longer until your lunch hour at work).

I began to see the light that is the joy of salad consumption last year, largely due to the herbivorous impulses of my roommate, Maddie. I'm talking about a girl that practically has larger biceps from her salad-spinner usage alone. There were always various scary-looking unlabelled jars in our refrigerator full of unidentifiable leftover dressing (did I mention that she always made her own dressing? Because she did). Though I never made salads myself, I often was lucky enough to be around at the right time and place to poach the leftovers. And the same thought always occurred to me as I chewed on a forkful of romaine lettuce, spinach, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, garlic powder, salt, and pepper – this would be so easy to make! And it is.

The following salad is not the salad I remember from my youth. You know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about that pile of wilted iceberg lettuce salad that languished untouched at all-you-can-eat buffets, limply sporting a couple shreds of carrots and a few shriveled olives. The type of salad that you raced past in favor of loading your plate up with kiddie kryptonite (known colloquially as, "lime Jello").

No, this salad is the type of salad that you feel guilty about because it seems too good to be true. And then you realize that it isn’t, so you bring it home to meet your parents. This is a salad whose shoulder you can cry on when you didn’t get the job, who won’t judge you when you’re still in sweatpants at 4 PM, who will be there for you when you come home after a long day. Am I still talking about salad here? You be the judge.

Greek Pasta Salad with Roasted Vegetables

INGREDIENTS:

1 red bell pepper, julienned
1 eggplant, cubed
6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/3 cup sun-dried tomatoes
1 cup arugula
1 1/2 cup spinach
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons minced garlic
1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
8 oz (half package) pasta

DIRECTIONS:

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Line a cookie sheet with foil.

In a medium bowl, toss the pepper and eggplant 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, salt, and pepper and pepper to taste. Arrange on the prepared cookie sheet. Bake vegetables 25 minutes in the preheated oven, tossing occasionally, until lightly browned.

In a large pot of salted boiling water, cook the pasta until al dente, and drain.

In a large bowl, toss together the roasted vegetables, cooked pasta, sun-drained tomatoes, arugula, and basil. Mix in remaining olive oil, balsamic vinegar, garlic, and feta cheese; toss to coat. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

My favorite thing about salad recipes is that it’s not like baking – you can add, subtract, and substitute anything in this recipe to suit what you already have, personal taste preferences, and time constraints. Depending on the time of TLC you want to put into it, this salad could take anywhere from 15 minutes to two hours to make.

Don’t want to wait for the veggies to cook in the oven? Coat them lightly in olive oil and roast them on a frying pan on the stove (just be careful not to use too much oil, or the eggplant will acquire that dreaded sog factor). Finangle with the proportions of olive oil, balsamic, salt and pepper. Vegan? Nix the cheese, and toss in some nuts instead. Add, subtract, and mix up the greens in the salad, throw in fresh tomatoes instead of sundried, chuck in some olives if you’re feeling particularly sassy. This recipe can handle it. It’ll let you use and abuse it until the cows come home, and will still come through for you (deliciously, I might add) in the end. And that’s more than you can say about most things.

new year, new blog - and chocolate stout ginger cake

i would be lying if i said that this year didn't knock me flat.

somehow within these twelve months, there have been two apartments, three countries, more than a thousand photographs in pixels and film, eight airplanes, breakups, makeups, makeouts, many goodbyes, oceans and deserts, hundreds of cups of coffee and text messages and hours worked.

this is a familiar story, of not having enough. not enough time to divide among too many places and obligations, pages to read, words to write. not enough time to spend time working, to scrape by after bills and rent with enough to remain at equilibrium.

so this year, the new blog will be about food. it will be about trying to have it all - about eating healthily, about the pleasure of making and consuming small things from nothing, about buying food ethically, about being conscientious and taking care.

oh, and of course, about spending as close to nothing in the process.

sometimes it's too tempting to want to crumple and give up. but when that's not an option, what do you do? you make do. you make it work. you make cake.

Chocolate Stout Ginger Cake

[adapted from the Sassy Radish]

INGREDIENTS

1 1/4 cups stout
1 1/8 cups molasses
1/2 tbsp baking soda
3 large eggs
1/8 cup dark cocoa powder, plus an extra pinch
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar
3/4 cup vegetable oil
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground cloves
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp ground ginger
2 tbsp grated, peeled fresh ginger


Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour a Bundt pan with dark cocoa powder to avoid having white specks on your cake.

Mix stout with molasses over high heat. Bring to a boil, remove, and add baking soda. Mixture will bubble, so do this first to give it time to settle and cool.

Beat together eggs, brown sugar, white sugar. Add oil.

Mix the dry ingredients (flour, spices, baking powder) in a separate bowl.

Whisk the stout mixture into the bowl of dry ingredients.

Add the egg/sugar mixture, and ginger.

Pour batter into pan and bake for 1 hour, or until a toothpick come out clean.