The Cooking Critic

My friends and I are a little Hollywood-Forever-movie-night-crazy. We just keep going back. I like these movie nights for many reasons, but one is I can mess up my kitchen trying out a new recipes and not have to worry about cleaning it up before company. Also, it’s a good recipe tester situation. There are plenty of other foods, so if I bomb, it’s not like the group will go hungry.

I made Greek Sandwiches because there are many vegetarians in the group, and they’re like, GIVE ME SOME VEGTABLES—NO, I DON’T WANT YOUR MEAT! So I figured they’d appreciate these little veggies pitas. And they were in fact appreciated. Crunchy and piquant, there a nice healthy change from the traditional picnic fare and seemed in line with a true Greek salad, which I, clearly, am a huge expert on since I am ambivalent toward salads and Greek is one of the few lineages I can’t claim. But I’ve been to Greece, folks! And I’ve heard the cats scream! (There’s no escaping this horrendous noise in Greece for some reason. Screaming cats are everywhere.) In Greece, I noticed Greek salads rarely came with salad greens and consisted mainly of tomatoes, red onions, and cucumber with a big hunk of feta on top. And … (I include an ellipsis to add suspense) my recipe also contains no salad greens. (My talk of salad greens is boring, but I’m going to see it till the end.) Since my deduction powers are strong, I can therefore deduce, my Greek pitas=true Greek salad with the addition of flatbread.

I was a little concerned about the dressing soggying up the pita, so I filled them when we got to our picnic spot. But next time I’ll just save myself the hassle, pre-fill them and risk soggy pitas.

Paul Reubens, Dotty, Francis (or Frances?), the ex-con and the waitress all from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure showed up to greet the crowd. (Adam says to ask someone our age if they’ve seen this movie is like asking, Do you breathe air? I had never seen the movie before, and I think Adam might have been telling me I’m way out of the loop. And did you know Tim Burton directed this movie? Somehow I didn’t until recently. Again, out of the loop.) Here’s a pic of my pita, which is a fun phrase to say out loud (try it!):

I had no idea my thumbs were so ugly. I feel no better off for having this knowledge now. Sigh.

P.S. Recipes are a pain to type up, and I’m not convinced anyone’s actually using this blog as a recipe resource. Besides Maggie, who has tried this Spinach and Rice Soup, which is of no use to anyone now since we are all afraid of spinach, and these Risotto Pancakes. (Thanks, Mags!) But what I’ve determined is: I will only post recipes if they are repeats, which says a lot about the recipe, or if the recipe just blew my mind and I have to share it with you RIGHT NOW, or if it’s super-easy to type up. However, feel free to request I post recipes that I write about and you want to try because I’ll happily oblige if I know someone is actually going to cook it.

THE END.

Lately the phrase “coconut cream” has a strange, hypnotic effect on me—I basically feel compelled to test any recipes that contains the ingredient. This was the case with Lime-and-Coconut-Soaked Chicken with Cilantro, and it certainly helped that the dish listed only six ingredients total.

My recent coconut cream obsession has come from a fling I’ve been having with the piña colada lately. Frothy and potent, it’s my hot afternoon drink of choice and has made coconut cream a staple in my pantry. I also have another coconut cream infatuation: the Thai soup tom kha. Made of coconut cream and lemongrass broth, it’s rich and borders on buttery, and I find it pretty much impossible to go into a Thai restaurant and not order it.

My grilled chicken recipe did not list lemongrass as an ingredient, but it was recommended as an addition in italics. I figured a tom kha-like marinade couldn’t be a bad thing, so the marinade was thrown together one warm evening that was, despite the recipe’s original draw, sadly void of lemongrass. While coconut cream has reached staple status in my kitchen, lemongrass has not. So the marinade was made with only the official ingredients listed in the recipe proper (coconut milk, chicken, lime, cilantro, salt and pepper.)

Assessment: Since I had successfully paired a lime chicken with polenta previously, grilled polenta became the companion to this chicken as well. My friend described polenta as “filler, like yucca,” the latter being a Caribbean potato, more or less. And then he went on to say I best not rave about this meal on thecookingcritic.com. I lashed out by calling him an uncultured polenta amateur. He reminded me of his art degree and all the culture it implied. I harrumphed.

While the grill gave the polenta a nice flavor, I have to say I much prefer my polenta fried—perhaps this isn’t such a big surprise. The chicken, on the other hand, had a pleasant, mild flavor to it, but I had hoped for something with a little more oomph. Marinating it over night might have helped, and I think it would have benefited from being skewered next to some pineapple. But all in all, I prefer the similar-but-better-tasting Lime-Cilantro Chicken I made before and will probably turn to it next time I grill up some chicken.

Maggie wants the world to know she isn’t a mooch. If you look over my posts in the last couple of months, it may look like she’s constantly stopping by on the off chance that something just came out of the oven, and why doesn’t she join me for dinner? But I must set the record straight. Not only did Maggie have Shahan and I over for a meal recently, she, in fact, had me over for dinner long before I ever returned the favor.

Maggie planned the meal, set the date and I said I’d bring an appetizer—the Vegetable-Avocado Salsa I made was an easy choice. I’d been eyeing the recipe for a while; the small picture of it in the upper left-hand corner of my Complete Outdoor Living Cookbook has been beckoning to me for a long time what with its festive colors and all. I even tried once to convince my non-avocado
-enamored mother to make it and bring it to a gathering because I wanted her to report back to me on how it tasted. On top of all this, I also had some Trader Joe’s avocados—despite my love for the avocado, I always have a hard time using up the four that come in a bag, and this salsa was a way to check one of my list. The dish required no oven either, a major bonus due to a recent heat wave and lack of air-conditioning in my apartment.

So I chopped and chopped and chopped the vegetables into fine little bits but left out the avocado initially because it makes the dip soupy if it joins the party but then sits around too long. I called Maggie and told her I’d be a little late because I needed to pick up a jicama on the way to her place. Maggie responded, “A jigga-what?” And I said, “It’s a bulbous, root vegetable that has the crunch of an apple but is mostly flavorless.” “Oh,” she replied.

I picked up my jicama and added both it and the avocado to the dip at Maggie’s place. And we happily munched on the dip then happily ate up Maggie’s red wine-themed meal. I’m not sure how I only just recently discovered intimate dinner parties are a great way to spend an evening, but I did. First we had cocktails with the appetizer, next we had wine with our meal served al fresco on the patio—it included a salad topped with blue-cheese stuffed mushrooms, eggplant parmesan and strawberries soaked in red wine sauce served over ice cream. As far as I can tell, the latter is the perfect summer dessert: wonderful, unusual and no stove or oven required (the heat has made me obsessed with the last criteria of late). After the meal, Maggie read our Tarot cards, which determined Shahan will never ever find love or happiness. I fared slightly better, though the multiple reference to “moving houses” made me nervous since there’s a For Sale sign in front of my apartment complex right now that I’m not pleased about at all. But the tarot cards predicted that in the end I’d be happy with the move. Perhaps my new place will have air-conditioning?

Adjustments: I used a jalapeño instead of a serrano chile but will try the spicier latter next time. And I used frozen corn instead of fresh since I’m on a freezer initiative right now. I ignored the instructions to make your own baked tortilla chips and instead bought some blue corn Tostitos.

Assessment: Shahan called this dip “a winner” and declared it a great fancy alternative to traditional salsa or guacamole. The different textures are wonderful: soft avocados, crunchy carrots and crisp jicama (of course, now I’m looking for recipes to help me use up the rest of the jicama). Be sure to salt and pepper the salsa appropriately since the seasonings help the flavors meld. Also, Vegetable-Avocado Dip is very beautiful. And while this dish wasn’t difficult to make, there is a lot of chopping, so I’m going to say it’s relatively easy with an emphasis on the “relatively.”

Until this past Memorial Day, I’ve never attempted to make corn on the cob. There’s really no excuse for it, other than I don’t own a barbecue, so I don’t host barbecues, so I don’t make corn on the cob, which has barbecue associations for me. All the same, I think about making corn on the cob a decent bit—there are a few recipes I’ve often admired from afar, one involving a lemon-chive butter and another with a chile-salt rub. Since many of my past barbecues have involved one boyfriend or another at the helm of the barbecue, I’d run my fancy corn-on-the-cob aspirations by him first. Inevitably I received a stare that seemed to say, why would you make a lemon-chive butter or a chile-salt rub when you can have excellent corn just by throwing it on the grill or tossing it in boiling water? Or maybe the look simply said, please don’t make things more difficult than they need to be. But since boiling or grilling regular old corn doesn’t exactly capture my imagination, I lost interest in the project and couldn’t be counted on to assist with the corn. I typically ended up making dessert.

So when a Memorial Day barbecue was announced with no boyfriend in sight, I went about making the dressed up corn I’ve always contemplated: not one of the recipes mentioned above, but a Cherry Tomato and Corn Salad made from corn on the cob that’s easy to make, easy to transport and easy to eat.

Assessment: Despite the many eases associated with this corn salad and though it pains me to admit it, I have to say I see the old boyfriends point with this one. Fresh corn on the cob is really good, so why make any adjustments to it by adding a dressing that might be best described as faint? The taste of the salad was pleasant enough, but I think I might prefer my corn slathered in butter. (Of course, I also adore butter more than any person should, so you might not want to listen to me on this one.) But corn salad does have some advantages you may want to consider: A) It’s a great portable dish that requires no last minute prep and will keep you out of the host/hostesses’ hair and B) You don’t have to worry about corn all over your face and teeth like you do with corn on the cob, a difficult food to eat gracefully. Also, you could easily substitute frozen corn for the fresh and speed up this already speedy recipe even more.

I have come to an important conclusion: people are hungry for brunch recipes. What first tipped me off (actually, what solely tipped me off) was the amount of hits my various brunch recipes received from my Easter brunch post. I knew that brunch was a popular activity for many, but I didn’t realize that making brunch was also popular. Far be it for me to deny the public what they want. If they want brunch recipes, goshdarnit, they’ll get them.

While I’m a big fan of brunch myself, I’m not a big fan of cooking in the mornings, or even mid-mornings for that matter, which perhaps led me to my earlier erroneous assumption that everybody preferred dining out for brunch instead of dining in—everybody’s like me, right? I’m exceedingly slow out of the gate when I wake up, and often I can’t be bothered with anything more than eating a piece of fruit. My other staples include: yogurt, banana smoothies (before my blender abruptly died and left me very lonely) and oatmeal with brown sugar, dried cranberries and flaxseed mixed in. The latter is about as labor-intensive as I get for breakfast, until now. Since I’ve determined the world wants brunch recipes, I’ll attempt at least one a month. Yes, I’m doing this for you.

My first once-a-month-public-brunch-promise selection wasn’t difficult. I had some goat cheese in the refrigerator, and I came across a Savory Bread Pudding with Goat Cheese and Ham recipe. It was sufficiently different from the usual brunch recipes, and I was intrigued by the idea of a savory bread pudding, having only had sweet ones before. I’m sure you’re intrigued too. And I hope you’re not scrunching your nose at the thought of goat cheese or bread pudding because I’ve known people to do that before. But I certainly wouldn’t expect that of you. (You’re my favorite by the way. Shhh, don’t tell the others.)

Of course, there was still the can’t-think-in-the- mornings-much-less-cook issue to deal with it, which was solved easily enough by making this a dinner entrée. In fact, it became an impromptu dinner party, very similar to my last dinner party. Savory Bread Pudding with Goat Cheese and Ham was substituted for the Green Beans and Saffron Pasta, and all the other elements remained the same: Trader Joe’s Dips for appetizers, Hearts of Palm Salad as an accompaniment and Raspberry Brownies for dessert. Why mess with a formula that works? And I suspect the reason this dish isn’t pictured in the cookbook is because it doesn’t photograph so well, as I’ve learned. Try not to hold this against it. And don’t laugh at my pathetic attempt to scatter ham evenly. You would think I’d try a little harder knowing I’m going to photograph the evidence later….

Adjustments: As you can see above, I separated the ham and olives into different sections to satisfy dueling palates: vegetarians vs olive haters. Also, I found the recipe could use more goat cheese, ham and olives, but maybe this was because I used a long dish, instead of the deep one called for and this spread out the flavors of the fixins more than usual.

Assessment: Maggie dubbed this sophisticated comfort food, and I thought the olives, goat cheese and ham were a nice sharp/salty/tangy combination. Also, since I get bored easily with the regular brunch fare at restaurants (sometimes I want more options than pancakes and omelets), this dish gets major bonus points for originality. But while not difficult, it is a time commitment with an hour baking time in the oven. If I were to make this again, and I certainly would if I found myself with a log of goat cheese in the refrigerator, I would see how it works cooked up like a French toast sandwich, which would take a lot less time and is basically what it tasted like.

Either Shahan Sannossian or a character from one of his stories once said, good lavash is hard to come by. Actually, I’m sure he or his character put it far more eloquently than that, but the general idea of it stuck with me because I had never really considered lavash before. In case you have gone through your life lavash-less, it’s a thin, soft, flat bread used in wraps and often coming in large squares—it’s also called Armenian Cracker Bread and is not unlike the flour tortilla in many ways. According to Shahan or his character, lavash likes to become stale almost immediately (perhaps because it’s related in name to the cracker?) Anyhow, I tucked that bit of information about staleness away, and when I purchased some lavash recently for a picnic outing, determined the only solution to prevent stale lavash was to use the lavash in as many meals as possible pronto. A sensible solution indeed.

BLT Wraps with Tahini Sauce is one way to consume lavash, a recipe I’ve tried before. Instead of mayonnaise, perhaps my least favorite condiment and a traditional BLT accompaniment, this sandwich makes use of a slightly spicy tahini concoction (tahini is just ground sesame seeds, btw.) So you get your summery BLT but with some exotic flavor interplay.

Adjustments: I just shook in some red pepper flakes rather than measuring it out with a teaspoon since I prefer spiciness to remain a hint rather than a full-on flavor. I fried up prosciutto instead of bacon since that’s what I had on hand.

Assessment: Good, but something to do with leftover lavash rather than something to purchase lavash for.

Nothing says summer like watching old films in a cemetery; at least that’s how the saying goes here in Los Angeles. For the uninitiated, this could seem bizarre or morbid, but really it’s just good old-fashioned fun among tombstones. Nothing creepy about it.

Hollywood Forever Cemetery, a beautiful old cemetery where many a Hollywood star is interred, has officially opened its doors for Saturday night outdoor movie screenings hosted by Cinespia, and my friends and I were some of the many people charging the gates at 6:30 in an attempt to get a prime spot. Here, people picnic, watch old movies and sit in an open grassy area a safe distance from any tombstones. This particular Saturday, we watched The Maltese Falcon, drank fine Claret and cheap Cabernet Sauvignon, ate cheese, strawberries, grapes, snow peas, salami, Trader Joe’s Mango Fandango fruit salad, Lavash Wraps with Hummus and Honey-Roasted Turkey, Cranberry White Chocolate Cookies, and Broiled Coconut Cupcakes (but not mine—I’m on a cupcake hiatus.)

While I love potluck picnics and their snacking tapas quality, sometimes all the little bits of food don’t feel like they add up to a substantial whole. I thought I’d try to avoid that this time with the lavash wraps, which the group gobbled up. The wraps were no trouble at all to make and very portable—a perfect picnic food.

White Chocolate Cranberry Cookies from From the Pantry were a tasty twist on the traditional Chocolate Chip Cookie. While I would certainly make these again if my kitchen housed white chocolate chips (a rarity) and dried cranberries (a staple), I have to say I’m a bit of a purist when it comes to the chocolate chip cookie—I prefer my chocolate leaning toward the dark and bitter side as opposed to light and sweet. Brandon can attest to this since when I visit his place, the Hershey’s Dark Chocolate Miniatures disappear, and I leave in my wake a mass of untouched Mr. Goodbars, Krackels and Hershey’s Milk Chocolate.

Here is my photograph of White Chocolate Cranberry Cookies. I like to call this image “Late Afternoon Light on Freshly Baked Cookies.” I’d like to call it that, and so I shall.

I’m supposed to like salads for a couple reasons. A) I’m a girl and girls like to be skinny. B) I live in Los Angeles and Angelenos like to be skinny. You would think this would produce strong salad longings deep within me, but I simply don’t gravitate toward them. I find most salads boring. That’s right salads of the world, BORING! If you were more interesting, I wouldn’t have to be so blunt and hurt your feelings like this. Not to say I haven’t met some really amazing salads before. Puran’s on Hillhurst makes an ahi tuna salad that I adore, and occasionally I’ll even find a salad recipe that has me saying mm-mmm out loud. But typically my response to a salad is: Why would I eat you, if I can eat something else?

Recently, I thought it would be a good idea to eat my Polenta Lasagna leftovers for lunch. As it turns out, this was not a good idea. Polenta Lasagna sat heavily in my stomach laughing loudly at the foolish notion that he was a lunch food. So when dinner came around, I wasn’t all that hungry, and Spinach Salad with Pears, Gorgonzola, and Walnuts was the only food I could imagine getting along with the polenta lasagna taking up way more than his fair share of space in my stomach.

Adjustments: For the dressing, since I didn’t have honey Dijon mustard, I used regular Dijon and real, live honey, and I had to play with the dressing quantities before I got it to my liking. Instead of walnuts, I used spiced pecans that I had on hand. And instead of Gorgonzola (a fancy blue cheese), I used regular blue cheese. And I threw caution to the wind and skipped the endive altogether. Don’t hesitate to substitute dried cranberries for the pears too.

Assessment: This version won’t have me singing the praises of salads in the streets or anything, but I found it tasty and enjoyed the combination of flavors and textures—it’s got everything: sweet, sharp, pungent, crisp, and crunchy.

I think bananas become overripe out of spite. They’re only good for a couple days, and then you have to figure out what to do with them now. I usually freeze them and make banana smoothies, but my blender is on the blink (nothing works in my house!), so I had to find something else to do with my overripe bananas. Banana-Oatmeal Power Cookies showed me the light.

What I especially like about these cookies is you can trick yourself into thinking you’re eating something healthy. In the cookbook, they even suggest you take them on a hike. If that doesn’t imply healthiness, I don’t know what does.

Adjustments: I’ve made them just as the recipe tells me to, and they are delicious that way, but I made some adjustments this time because I didn’t have all the ingredients in my pantry. Instructions to include unsalted butter are flat-out ignored nearly every time. I know it’s fresher and less salty, but lightly salted butter is a permanent fixture in my house, so I generally go with what I have. Coconut got omitted, walnuts became pecans, dried apricots or raisins were dried cranberries. I might prefer that last substitution and permanently replace raisins with cranberries for these cookies and every other food always. Dried cranberries are tart and wonderful. Raisins are sugary and terrible. Everybody knows it.

Assessment: I usually don’t like my cookies chock full of stuff, but I like these. Everyone likes these. They’re sort of like a chewy, more interesting banana bread if banana bread decided to turn itself into a cookie.

I love Beauty and the Geek, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Well, maybe I’m a little ashamed. But I actually planned an evening around it recently when I told Brandon that I would deliver a homemade dinner to him on Thursday. That way Brandon could be rewarded for his techy support, and I could watch this fine program without the fuzziness of my cable-less television.

Sadly, I wasn’t at the top of my game with this particular effort. I got going a little late, and then cutting up two and a half pounds of onions was a much longer experience than anticipated; nothing like preparing dinner while tears stream down your face. I also totally flaked on dessert. Sorry, Brandon! There’s a dessert in your future, man, I promise!

Assessment: Despite Beef Stew with Carmelized Onions and Amber Lager’s fancy name, it tastes a lot like any beef stew you’ve had before. It’s good, but nothing to shout about. But if I’m in the mood for beef stew, I may make it again. And according to the picture in the book, this stew is supposed to be served on a plate next to a green substance instead of in a bowl. This particular version did not call for potatoes. Brandon missed them. I did not.