The Cooking Critic

Sunday was a series of unfortunate food events for me. It started at a café with a spinach, mushroom and cheese omelet that was filled with grit from spinach not properly washed. I actually spit out a bite (discreetly, I’d like to think) because there was so much grit, my food was noisy.

From there I went to the L. A. Book Festival, saw a churro, wanted it, determined I didn’t need it, then decided if I wanted a churro, I should get one. So I did. I took one bite and realized I didn’t feel like a churro after all. But I hated the idea of throwing it away as much as I hated the fact I had to pay $3 for it in the first place, so I felt compelled to eat the whole $3 thing. (For those unfamiliar with churros, as I was before moving to California, a churro is basically a cinnamon/sugar-coated fritter stick.)

Next was a youth-themed 30th birthday party that included a cotton candy machine, addictive Guacamole-flavored Doritos, KFC popcorn chicken, a bouncy house and some children, which, evidently came with the bouncy house as far as I can tell since they didn’t come with anyone in our party. While a day bouncing then relaxing in Griffith Park was a wonderful way to spend one of the first warm Sundays of the spring, the cotton candy and popcorn chicken only heightened the slumpy feeling inside of me that emerges when I’ve eaten poorly all day long.

While the children repeatedly asked for soda and the adults lounged on blankets, I contemplated dinner, which had suddenly become very important–something healthy was essential and using the shrimp in the freezer preferred. I thought about Broiled Shrimp and Spinach Salad but discarded that idea when I recalled my fresh dill was now frozen from a little overzealous refrigeration. By the time I got home, I had decided on California Fish Stew, a dish that had impressed me a couple of years earlier, but, due to how rarely shrimp is stocked in my house, I had not revisited it since.

Everything went according to plan. I had my light, flavorful, quickly made stew and a salad to accompany it. I watched half of Good Night and Good Luck before falling asleep. I slept well. A good soup can do so much.

Adjustments: Fresh oregano for the dried since that’s one of the few herbs in my garden I’ve managed not to kill, canned tomatoes for the fresh and only shrimp for the seafood—I don’t normally have fish and mussels around. Since my shrimp was cooked and frozen, I defrosted them in lukewarm water for fifteen minutes, then put them in a bowl and poured the soup when done over top to warm them without cooking them further.

Assessment: This soup actually turned my day around. It’s a nice combination of fresh herbs and pepper with a sharp kick from the wine. However, my previous efforts had better results since I didn’t use the ideal wine this time around—I used a somewhat fruity blend already opened and chilled in the refrigerator. A dryer white wine is better, and this is no place to toss in some Charles Shaw since wine is the main ingredient of your broth. I recommend Sterling Sauvignon Blanc, which is dry, affordable and good as an ingredient or drinking straight out of the wine glass.

I especially loved the warning that’s in italics at the top of this recipe: “Have the ingredients prepared and near the stove, because this fish stew cooks in just minutes.” I loved even more that this was true.

Corn Soup is not a chowder. And don’t call it a chowder. That’s like calling a “Christine,” “Kristin.” Two different words, two different connotations. I’ve actually asked around about chowders before (these are the sort of conversations people are forced to have with me), and I’ve never been able to come up with a clear definition for chowder. My own observations have led me to deduce chowders include a puréed potato to give them a denser consistency. Then I received Food Lover’s Companion (basically, the ultimate dictionary for foodies) as a gift, which does not confirm my made-up definition for chowder. Hmph. Here’s how Food Lover’s Companion describes chowder: “a thick, chunky seafood soup.” See, it’s already gotten itself in a hole because we’ve all heard of corn chowder, and corn chowder doesn’t have seafood in it. But later it says, “The term [chowder] is also used to describe any thick, rich soup containing chunks of food (for instance, corn chowder.)” And that seems really broad and sweeping to me.

This Corn Soup is more like a bisque because it has cream and flour for thickening. Here I shall describe this corn soup bisque: smooth, well-seasoned, complex, and rich without being too rich. I think this is a good description. Food Lover’s Companion describes bisques this way: “a thick, rich soup usually consisting of puréed seafood and cream.” Clearly, Food Lover’s Companion is in cahoots with the seafood industry. Tomato bisque doesn’t include seafood. Corn soup bisque doesn’t include seafood. At least they hedged themselves by using the word “usually” this time.

My family likes to call this “Cron Soup” because of a misspelled sign for corn we once saw in Ohio. I made my mother email me this recipe because I suddenly wanted it and don’t own the cookbook it came from. Thanks, Mom! I know what a pain typing up recipes can be. Lately, I feel like I spend half of my life typing up recipes. The other half is devoted to Karaoke.

Adjustments: Half and half for the light cream, and I just sprinkled a little bit of nutmeg in rather than use the full ¼ teaspoon. I know nutmeg in soups is all the rage right now, but I’m wary of this rage. For reheating, add a little milk or cream to thin it out if it overly thickens in the refrigerator. And pardon my picture. I accidentally caramelized the onions (it happens!), and I cut up the chives in a manner that might be best described as haphazard.

Assessment: You will be amazed at how easy yet tasty this soup is. You will be sad to learn the cookbook I got this from is out-of-print, yet you will be happy to hear you can buy a previously owned edition for $.52.

>> Buy Easy Cooking for Today by Pol Martin or Food Lover’s Companion by Sharon Tyler Herbst.

The sick person’s soup series continues. Though clearly, I’m not all that sick. If I were, I’d be on the couch watching TV all day like any normal person instead of in the kitchen making a ridiculous amount of soups. Speaking of soup, here’s a good reason to make this one: you put wine in the chicken broth. Wine tastes good, so it makes your Spinach and Rice Soup taste good too. Bogle’s Sauvignon Blanc is a good not-expensive-but-stlll-nice-tasting dry white perfect for cooking (and sipping while you cook.) And here’s a solid endorsement for this soup: I have returned home from a long day and decided to make this dish last minute, and it was created in a completely reasonable amount of time with ingredients I usually have in the house (if you leave out the chick peas.)

Adjustments: No to chick peas! Actually, feel free to say yes to chick peas, but they turn this from a quick meal into an over two-hour long endeavor. So join me in my fight against chick peas! And vegetarians—you guys should use vegetable broth instead of chicken broth. (Sorry for the washed-out photo!)

Assessment: I’ve made this soup countless times, so clearly I like it. Good flavor. Suitable for a sick or well person.

When a person subsists on soup and ice cream alone, do you gain weight or lose? It’s an important questions, folks, and I’d like to answer it for you. I’ve been conducting this experiment and using myself as the guinea pig. The soups have been plentiful—just scroll down and see. The ice cream has come in pints and consisted of Hagen-Daaz Strawberry (so-so, I love their vanilla, but the corner market was out) and Ben & Jerry’s Mint Cookies and Cream (the best ice cream on earth.) Besides the soup and ice cream, a scale would be useful. I, sadly, don’t have one, so eyeing myself in the mirror will have to substitute. Hmmm, so, I look the same weight to me. My pants fit the same too. My conclusion: I’m the exact same weight. So I guess the ice cream and soup cancelled each other out. I should say I did exercise a bit—I wasn’t completely incapacitated. But my exercise consisted of walking three miles at a pace that may be best described as “leisurely,” although I eventually worked my way up to “nearly brisk” as I got less sick those last couple of  days.

Oh yeah, so the Chicken Soup with Celery and Lemon. It combines two of the best sick people ingredients ever: chicken broth and lemon juice. You know what else tastes good? Celery leaves. I’m serious. And I just discovered 1 part lemon juice to 2 parts honey is a soothing, homemade cough syrup! And it tastes far better than Robitussin. I have the whooping cough, by the way, or maybe TB, which Maggie claims I gave to her. Actually, I think I just have a cold, but I find drama is best when you’re sick. What do you have, if you don’t have people’s sympathy?

Adjustments: I put this in the “(Relatively) Easy” category despite some debate. It’s easy when you already have cooked chicken on hand, like I did, and you don’t have to cook it 45 minutes in the broth. Also, rather than making a bouquet garni, I just let the herbs float around in the broth completely unsupervised since I didn’t have any kitchen string on me. And, as always, unsalted butter was replaced by salted.

Assessment: Brothy, soothing, citrusy. Perfect for when you’re feeling under the weather, but I’m curious to see what I think of it on a well day.

There are few things in life more satisfying than a good dumpling. Actually, there are few things in life more satisfying than a mediocre dumpling for that matter. I make my dumplings with Bisquick, and I’m not afraid to admit it. They puff up nice and fluffy as you please, and I toss in a little parsley to throw people off the Bisquick scent. In fact, I bet you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between my Bisquick dumplings and somebody else’s homemade dumplings. Actually, I’m sure some people could tell the difference, but I suspect those people aren’t reading my blog. Not now anyways. Someday they will. Some day THE WHOLE WORLD will be reading my blog. Mwah-ha-ha-ha-ha! And I will hold them in thrall with my ruminations on dumplings. (You are getting very sleepy. You like dumplings. Dumplings are your friend.)

So while the Better Homes New Cookbook provided the base for this Chicken Stew with Dumplings (they even recommended I use Bisquick, more or less), Cooking Light provided some ideas for additional flavor, so I’m citing them here. Cite your sources, people! Don’t plagiarize like my students like to do sometimes. Boo, plagiarism!

Adjustments: I sautéed fresh celery and onions and garlic instead of using frozen onions, frozen vegetables and garlic powder. Dill was my fresh herb of choice for this dish since I had some around. And add 2 tablespoons of sherry at the end for additional flavor.

Assessment: Not the most amazing Chicken ’n Dumplings I’ve ever made but good, and I felt very, very comforted. I make this dish differently every time, but I think my most successful rendition (and also the most time-consuming) took heavily from Emeril’s TV Dinners, which uses heavy cream, made-from-scratch dumplings and fresh jalapeños, among other ingredients—I hear he likes to kick things up a notch.

Patti Dixon, friend of my mother’s and all-round great lady, first introduced me to Tomato-Dill Soup. Tomato-Dill and I (as I call him now for short) hit it off right away. In fact, I was so intrigued by Tomato-Dill, that I nearly risked not meeting all the other delicious characters that were a part of this particular progressive dinner. I went back for thirds of this soup—no joke—and this was during the appetizer segment of the evening, so there was still a lot of food to go. Luckily, the servings were small, and I didn’t spoil my dinner. But at that moment I didn’t care. I was willing to throw out the window everything my mother ever told me about spoiling my appetite to be with Tomato-Dill. I felt that strongly.

A couple years later, Tomato-Dill and I are still on speaking terms but have never been able to recreate that same magic that was there on our first encounter. I blame myself. I’m easily distracted by other soups; I didn’t make an honest attempt to nurture my relationship with Tomato-Dill; and when I created the soup from scratch myself, it just didn’t taste as good as Patti’s, quite frankly.

I’m not sure what Patti does to her soups, but I suspect it involves witchcraft. My mother claims it involves sweet onions instead of brown or white. This could be the case too.

Adjustments: Since I had fresh thyme around, I used a tablespoon of it instead of the teaspoon of dried it called for. (I assume it’s calling for dried. When a recipe doesn’t specify, that’s usually the case, right?) But that’s the standard conversion: 1 tablespoon of fresh herbs equals 1 teaspoon of its dried counterpart. Also, I put in way more than 1 tsp of sugar. Forgot how much, but just do it to taste.

Assessment: This makes a lot of soup, and it’s a bisque, by the way. I thought about giving some to Adam, vegetarian and neighbor, but then it started raining, and I wasn’t about to walk down the street in the rain. Then I got sick and this led to the natural conclusion that I should hoard all the soup to myself and eat it for every meal, which I did. It might not have tasted as sublime as when Patti made it, but it still tasted good and felt excellent on a sore throat. Reunited at last!

Tim McKeon asked me the other day what my favorite meal was. I replied that was like asking which is your favorite child. He seemed to think both were legitimate questions. So I told him, I’m really into making Cream of Celery Soup these days. He nodded, said nothing, then turned around and started speaking to someone else. I think he was disappointed with my answer.

This recipe was made only because of the extra celery in my refrigerator one day, and I tell you, celery will never go bad in my house again. I want to jump up and down with joy when I realize I have enough celery left over to make this soup. No. Really.

Adjustments: I got this Cream of Celery Soup recipe online (hit the link and scroll down till you spot it), and the fellow who posted this version credits Joy of Cooking for the inspiration. The recipe doesn’t say to heat the soup up after adding the milk, cornstarch and cream, but you need to, so it will thicken and be warm. I assume everyone wants their soup warm. Also, a healthy dose of salt makes it taste good.

Assessment: I love it. And so do Mom and Dad. It’s easy too. But I’m afraid my picture won’t help enliven Cream of Celery Soup’s undeserved boring reputation, but I’m posting the pic anyways.

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.

Once upon a time I didn’t like mushrooms. I went through a sad, mushroom-less existence until I happened upon my 20s, then suddenly I became a convert. I wish I could remember the exact moment the mushroom caught my eye, what I was wearing, if I sauntered across a crowded dance floor toward the buffet table initially distracted by some canapés while “Do You Believe in Magic” played in the background. I don’t know how it happened exactly, but clearly I saw the mushroom warranted my attention. Now, to make up for my earlier mistake, I consume as many mushrooms as humanly possible. I’m not picky: shitake, portobello, crimini. I love them all. If a dish on a menu includes this vegetable, it’s very likely I’ll order it for the mushrooms alone. The steak that comes with it is just a bonus.

With my love of the mushroom has come an addiction to cream of mushroom soup—there are worse addictions—and I make it regularly. I have a recipe from a William-Sonoma book that takes some time but is exceptionally good, and then I have this Mushroom Soup from Real Fast Food, which is much easier, not quite as wonderful, but still amazingly satisfying. This soup is especially good when you dunk some slices of baguette in it. (I recently became a dunker of bread into soups and sauces as well.) A glass of red wine tastes good with it too.

Adjustments: I heated the soup again after whirring it around with the cream in the food processor. And since my milk’s expiration date had passed, I used double the cream and no milk at all—the recipe called for equal parts milk and cream. Also I added a bit of Madeira wine while the soup warmed back up and sprinkled chopped parsley on the finished product. And this is a thin mushroom soup, so if you like yours thicker, reduce the liquids.

Assessment: Soup! I love it! This one’s good! But not spectacular! But easy! I recommend it!