The Cooking Critic

I knew Trader Joe’s didn’t stop at a measly three cheeses, despite my inability to find this product during one TJ’s run and which sadly resulted in some pizza consumption with a mere three cheeses. The Pizza 4 Formaggi has Pecorino, Grana, Asiago (my new favorite!) and Edamer Cheeses. I suspect there’s some joke to be had with all those crazy names, but I can’t think of it. They taste really good melted over tomato sauce and bread though.

Assessment: Forget three cheese pizzas–four is the way to go.

Polenta inspires nothing in me. Basically, I think they’re glorified grits. But for whatever reason, the Polenta Fries in CHOW (a hip, new food magazine that you should check out) spoke to me. Actually, I think the cheese wine dipping sauce spoke to me, but I had to have something to dip into it, so I figured might as well make the fries too. And an excuse for a dinner party was born!

Maggie Flynn and Shahan Sanossian joined me for a little vegetarian antipasto feast. I let them be taste testers for the guacamole I’m entering in Guac Bowl ’06 (tremble in fear those competing against me). Then we ate our Polenta Fries with Fontina Fondue, and I provided two healthy dishes to prevent us from having massive coronaries: Roasted Eggplant & Peppers accompanied by Tomato Salad with Basil-Honey Vinaigrette (both from the Williams-Sonoma Complete Entertaining Cookbook.)

Also, I made an Apricot Brandy Pound Cake from the Junior League Open House cookbook. I don’t know why I keep trying to convince myself I like pound cake. It’s a homely little dessert. Nothing to it. If I’m going to add some fat to my body, I’d rather do it with something that’s creamy or rich or chocolately or something. Pound cake is too vanilla for me, which I feel is actually an insult to vanilla because it’s far more interesting than pound cake.

Adjustments: I bought pre-cooked polenta (instead of cooking up instant per the instructions,) and despite my last minute freak-out that it would be horrendous and inedible, and I wouldn’t have enough decent food to serve my guests, it turned out quite good. I cut the roll of polenta into discs, dipped them in flour, and fried away (actually, Shahan did the frying.) Really, what wouldn’t taste good like that? Also I served the pound cake with a couple strawberries and an easy Apricot Sauce (hit the link and scroll down to “Topping Ingredients.”) It helped gussy up the presentation and the taste.

Assessment: Polenta fries and fondue are really yummy, but not the easiest dinner party undertaking because you have to do two things last minute (fry polenta, make fondue). It helps to have laid-back dinner guests who don’t mind helping. (I recommend Shahan and Maggie.) Tomato Salad is really easy and flavorful, and you can’t screw it up. Roasted Eggplant isn’t a show-stopper but a respectable side all the same. It’s good too because you can make it in advance and it’s not hard–but peeling off the skins of the eggplant and peppers is kind of a pain. And I think I prefer it on toasted bread, which is how I’ve been eating the leftovers. The pound cake tastes like pound cake. And despite the fact that I’ve determined I’ll never make another pound cake as long as I live, I still find myself intrigued by this version of a Apricot Brandy Pound Cake, which I ran across after making my own. It incorporates dry whipped topping mix into the batter.

After the bland miso soup, I had high hopes for this meal. I envisioned a simple but elegant dish that would impress guests and have them talking about my culinary prowess for weeks. My expectation, perhaps, were a little high. But while my miso soup from earlier in the week was dull, this dish was too attention-hungry. It had a sharp and overwhelming wine reduction sauce (maybe it was the fault of the type of wine I used?) And while I like all the ingredients (chicken, cheese, sage, proscuitto and butter–what’s not to love?), they made no real impression on me combined. I do love the Asiago cheese though. I even like the word “Asiago.” Maybe someday I’ll name a child that. Sounds like a character from a Shakespeare play. With Prosciutto as his companion.

Assessment: Eh.

I wanted to like this soup. It had a lot of good qualities. It was good for me with all its veggies and tofu. But sadly, it just couldn’t hold my interest. The leftovers have been sitting in my refrigerator for a week untouched. I finally had some for lunch, and I was so uninterested that I got distracted while heating the soup and managed to burn it. I burned soup. I didn’t even know that was possible. The broth turned into a black layer at the bottom of the pan, so I poured more cold broth from the fridge over it, stirred it, heated it some more and ate it. It tasted better.

Adjustments/Assessment: I’m not going to even bother because I just don’t care.

There was a moment when I poured the can of tomato sauce into the skillet and thought “Uh-oh.” There was no way this dish could be good. Of course, the pan contained nothing more than bulgur wheat, water, onions, and a can of plain old tomato sauce at the time. And then came the glorious taco seasoning. Since Trader Joe’s doesn’t carry such things, and I wasn’t about to go to a second grocery store, I promptly got online and found this gem of a recipe (drumroll please): Taco Seasoning Mix. I want to put this taco seasoning on EVERYTHING. (Well, maybe not the Chocolate Whopper cookies—they’re perfect as they are.)

I was really bowled over by these Bulgur Tacos, which came from Better Home and Gardens New Cookbook, one of the standards of my family’s collection (even my brother has one.) I’m willing to admit that since my expectations were low for this dish, this might have made it seem more amazing than it was. BUT it was also easy and also good for you (tofu is in it too!) No wonder I’m smitten.

Adjustments: Instead of taco shells, I used whole-wheat tortillas and heated them in the oven with some cheddar, so the cheese would be all melted and waiting for the bulgur wheat. (Yum!) Instead of shredded lettuce, I used spinach since that’s the greens I keep on hand. And naturally, I used homemade taco seasoning instead of the envelope suggested. As much as I loved it, it does pack a wallop. I might use 4 or 4-1/2 teaspoons of it next time, instead of 5, or maybe reduce the salt in the mix. Then again, I may not. Also, the mix called for 1/2 tsp of instant minced garlic. I didn’t have this, nor was sure what it was, so I used 1/4 teaspoon of garlic powder instead since dried herbs are usually stronger than fresh. (But does garlic powder count as dried? And could something described as “instant minced” possibly be fresh? Ah, well.)

Assessment: I loved this. I’ll make it again. I will try to make my parents cook this even though I imagine they’ll be wary of the tofu. I would consider making this for a casual dinner for friends. (That’s a solid endorsement if ever there was one.)

My title sounds like a really lame National Enquirer headline.

So I woke up to a rainy, cold day, and for whatever reason, this brings out a strong urge to bake. I determined I would prefer to make cookies (wasn’t a cake sort of day), and then it occurred to me I should pick out cookies that ship well and send some to my brother, who has gone way beyond the call of sibling duty of late and spent 45 minutes of his Saturday evening on the phone helping me with this blog you see here. I chose Almond Cookie Slices from the FamilyCircle Best-Ever Cakes & Cookies, a gift from my Grandma when she discovered I liked to cook. Reasons for picking these cookies are: they were different than my usual fare, they called for icing (and I really felt like icing), I have a bit of an almond thing lately, and they sounded ship-able. I can’t quite remember my brother’s stance toward almonds, but I’m trusting his non-picky nature.

Baking these cookies turned into the never-ending cookie extravaganza. You have to blanch the almonds, pop them out of their skins, toast them, grind them, etc. Once you have your dough, you have to freeze it for twenty minutes. The whole process took me 2 hours. Granted, I was carrying on a conversation and drinking wine while making the cookies—not particularly conducive to efficient cookie-making—but I think the estimated 58 minutes was way off. (But check out my picture–I’m pretty proud of it. You can see the steam coming off of the tea!)

Adjustments: The recipe called for 1 1/4 cup ground almonds and 1 1/4 cup whole almonds. This sounded like a lot of big ole almonds, so I opted to include a 3/4 cup of sliced almonds instead of folding the second 1 1/4 cup in whole form. This suits me too since I’m more a fan of the almond flavor than the nut itself. I also had to adjust the Almond Glaze since I didn’t have a full cup of powdered sugar (so basically, I included less water.) Also, when you slice up the cookies, the instructions forget to tell you to give a slice down the middle, so you have reasonably sized cookies and the 3 dozen the recipe claims.

Assessments: Though good, I will probably never make these cookies again because they were far too much trouble. Also, they were more or less biscotti! And I’m no big fan of biscotti. I looked up a recipe to see the difference, and it turns out biscotti has egg (my cookies did not) and are baked twice (who knew?) The biscotti recipe claimed baking them twice gave them that “delightfully crunchy” texture. And all this time I thought they were just hard and overrated. Still, if you like biscotti but would prefer a slightly softer texture, these Almond Cookie Slices would be the ticket. And I have to say I really looked forward to my cookies and tea the next afternoon. It’s going to be hard to ship them too. They were so much work, I feel I deserve to eat every last one.

I’ve been going to a lot of Vietnamese restaurants lately and eating pho. (That’s a brothy noodle soup for the uniniated. I didn’t know what it was myself until I moved to California.) Anyhow, I came across a recipe for Beef and Bok Choy Hot Pot, and while quite different from pho in a number of ways (broth is flavored differently, more vegetables, less fresh herbs), it held a similar appeal.

I was all set to use the replacement fettuccine, but came across the preferred rice noodles at Cost Market Plus. Score! I almost substituted some more beef broth for the water but with 1/3 cup rice vinegar and 1/3 of soy sauce, I realized the water was needed to dilute the broth, so the flavors wouldn’t be overpowering. They still were, actually.

I didn’t put in all the carrots and bok choy since I figure it will taste better to add them in one-person servings every time I eat the soup. Same with the noodles. This soup has too many additional components to freeze well. (I actually never freeze soup, even though I think it’s a good idea and wish I did.) I really liked that the carrots are added in the last five minutes of the cooking, so they retain some bite instead of turning into mushy orange disks. And I liked the use of ginger, which was nicely subtle. (I think ginger has a hard time being subtle sometimes. So attention-hungry that ginger.)

Adjustments: Full-salt beef broth instead of low-salt since that’s what I had in the house. I added another full cup of water to dilute the strong broth, and some people might prefer even further dilution. And I ran out of green onions! Now I know that the green onions wrapped in rubber bands at the grocery store equal exactly 1 cup. I needed a cup and a half.

Assessment: The hands-on time was probably only 30 minutes, but the simmer time was an hour and a half. If I’m going to wait two hours for something, it better taste pretty amazing. While this soup was good, I probably won’t make it again because it simply isn’t worth all the time. But I do have to say, on this rainy, cold day-after-making-the-soup, I’m really looking forward to lunch and my bowl of steaming broth and noodles. (Too much light reflecting in the pic. So it goes.)

So the Thyme-Syrah Fish left me with this packet of extra thyme. What’s a girl to do except try the recipe suggested on the box? So Chicken Breast with Fresh Thyme Cream Sauce for dinner it was. I’m not sure how I managed to forget what a pain plucking thyme is, but I did. This deceptive recipe only has a few ingredients (chicken, flour, butter, garlic, sherry, chicken broth, cream and thyme) but still managed to make me late for meeting someone for drinks. Does anybody out there have a better method to get those thyme leaves off the stem other than to run your forefinger and thumb down the herb to make the little leaves pop off? When I measured the leaves and saw I only had a tablespoon, I couldn’t help thinking “Is that all?” Luckily ITunes started playing “This Bird Can Sing” at that moment and buoyed me through the next half tablespoon.

Adjustments: Only full-salt chicken broth instead of reduced salt broth. Oh and I used thinly sliced chicken breasts, which helped speed up the cooking process.

Assessment: Despite my complaints, the dish did taste quite nice, though creamier than I would have liked. I could end up making it again if I happen to have a bunch of thyme and time on me–(I tried to figure out another way to avoid that corny statement and just couldn’t think of anything.) If I were to make it again, I might add less cream or not reduce the chicken broth/sherry mixture as much as I did. A second person helping with the thyme might cut down on the prep time and make the dish seem more worthwhile.  But even as I write this, I just can’t bring myself to take the time to type in the recipe.  That says a lot.

I blame Matt Crocco for tonight’s pizza consumption. I had a perfectly healthy meal planned–some chicken in an herb sauce with a salad for goodness sake!–but when I stopped by Matt’s house to snag a two-cent stamp, he was cooking pizza, and it smelled good. So I came home, looked at my poor chicken suffering from freezer burn, and instead of walking two blocks to a corner market for more chicken, I stuck a Trader Joe’s Organic 3-Cheese Pizza in the oven. I’m so weak!

Assessment: Pretty good. It says it’s handmade, and it looks it (the crust isn’t perfectly circular etc.) Not particularly cheesy and very low on sauce. The latter is my preference; the former is not. But I could have sworn they used to have a quatro cheese pizza that was better. All in all, I probably would try another Trader Joe’s pizza before buying this one again, but it did stymie my pizza craving with minimal artery blockage, and it could very well end up in my freezer again.

Say what you want about the Junior League, but don’t knock their recipe books. The Junior League of Murfreesboro, Tennessee fame has put together a fine book that I cook from regularly, Open House: A Culinary Tour. My latest cooking endeavor at their recommendation: Roasted Vegetables and Pasta, which suited me since I’m always looking for something new to do with eggplant. And all the vegetables (zucchini, mushrooms, carrots) made me feel healthy. I thought their marinade was ingenious, just onion soup mix, fresh thyme leaves and olive oil. It created some pretty flavorful veggies.

Adjustments: My only adjustment I wouldn’t recommend; I write it up as a warning of what not to do. To save time, I bought pre-sliced mushrooms instead of whole ones as suggested, which you’re instructed to cut in half. The sliced ones shriveled up to almost nothing during the roasting process, so don’t be lured by the ease of pre-sliced mushrooms. In the case, follow the directions.

Assessment: Pretty easy to execute, but chopping the veggies takes a while, and you have to time the various components well (toasting pine nuts, roasting vegetables, boiling pasta.) I like their suggestion to try it with chicken, though I didn’t. All in all, it wasn’t the most amazing dish I’ve ever had–I won’t dream about it or anything–but I could end up making it again. A friend who got a tupperware full of it and ate it the next day called it “delicious.”