Luscious, luscious food

A normal person would be able to quantify their depression by the fact they consumed an entire package of Oreos (with nary their partner's help) in two days. I wish I had that excuse.

I love food. Bad food. Good-for-you food. All of it.

Hence the new layout! Thanks, Blogger. You really treat a tech-adverse girl well.

Coming Home

Long time, no post, huh? I'm in San Francisco for business, and it's all much more sexy than it sounds (trust me). But I like saying that...."I'm in San Francisco for business....". I'll let it linger there on the tongue.

I do not have a job where I travel across the country, but by chance I am here, sitting in a hotel room (facing a highway and not the bay, alas), and taking stock of things. Traveling always puts me in a contemplative mood. I sometimes travel regionally for work and I relish the alone time. I think Matt does, too. You're never very alone with yourself and your thoughts in everyday life, you know? I like removing myself from my suburban life for a bit, even if it's just a late train ride from New York or a hotel in central Pennsylvania. I like missing home; it reminds me what good I have.

This trip is no different, and I needed to take stock. To breathe in. To exhale. I haven't had a deep breath in three months. I wish I dealt better with stress, but my body tightens and it's fight or flight all day long. And poor Matthew. Every night I cry and he looks on, helplessly. Matt is never stressed. It's a gift because I often am. But, he admits, he has it easy. He loves his job. He is in perfect health. Above all, he has the perfect wife (okay, okay, it's a joke!).

Stress and Crohn's do not mix well, but my intestines have behaved. Usually before a flight I run to the bathroom no less than three times, my nerves working their churning magic. I hate flying, and I hate the thought of limited bathroom access. But this week's flight I sat at the gate, eating my bagel and...was fine. This afternoon I have the window seat home. It's enough that my bowels constantly inconvenience me, but now I have to inconvenience two other people when I ask them to get up to use the bathroom? Those two innocent souls have no idea what they're in for.

I was at dinner with a dear friend last week. We talked about work, about my health, about my fruitless baby making, and how I thought I'd have more to show for myself by my late twenties. She is her early thirties and said, "I hated my twenties! Do you remember how depressed I was? I'm so much happier now." So now I think everyone has a late twenties rut, and agony likes company, right?

I'm enjoying how this trip put things in perspective and how much I want to walk through the front door. For me, that's where it begins, and ends.

Finally

I realized I haven't written about the health care bill being passed. I found out of its passing at 5:30 am on Monday, screamed upstairs to Matt by simply saying, "It passed!", and did an early-morning jig with the dog looking wearily on.

I'm still smiling.

Martha's Tofu Stir-fry

There are several websites I visit compulsively (Slate, NYT, DListed) and now it's www.marthastewart.com. I love Martha because she's a haughty you-know-what, and I can just imagine her staff is absolutely terrified of her. And she's absolutely off her rocker if she thinks the American public is going to attempt 2% of her crafts. I don't craft. But I cook.

When I was in the tofu section at Wegman's yesterday Matt bit his lip but didn't say a word (good boy). I've tried cooking tofu before with disastrous results (soggy slop, mainly). Yet when I announced that I was going to make a tofu stir-fry this evening, his immediate response was, "Is there a back-up?" No, dearest, you are going to eat this sweet, sweet tofu, I replied.

And you know? The recipe worked. The tofu was crisp and the stir-fry simple. Martha calls for snow peas, and I could care less about those darn things, so I opted for sugar snap peas. All in all, a very proud evening for yours truly. And yes, Matt did eat it. (And I dare say, with GLEE.)


Tofu Stir-Fry
from www.marthastewart.com

• 1 pound firm tofu
• 2 tablespoons reduced-sodium soy sauce, plus more for serving
• 1 tablespoon rice vinegar
• 1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil
• 1 tablespoon canola oil
• 2 small onions, cut into wedges
• 9 ounces button mushrooms, quartered
• 1 large red bell pepper, ribs and seeds removed, cut into 1-inch squares
• 1 1/4 pounds bok choy, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces, stem and green pieces separated
• 1/4 pound snow peas, trimmed
• 5 paper-thin slices fresh ginger
• 1 teaspoon cornstarch dissolved in 2 teaspoons cold water
• Lime wedges, for serving

1. Halve tofu block lengthwise; slice each half into 8 rectangles. Arrange on a paper towel-lined baking sheet; top with more paper towels and another baking sheet. Weight with canned goods or a skillet. Refrigerate overnight or at least 20 minutes.
2. Transfer tofu to a shallow dish. In a bowl, whisk together soy sauce, vinegar, and sesame oil with 1 tablespoon water; pour over tofu. Marinate 5 minutes (reserve marinade).
3. Heat canola oil in a 12-inch nonstick skillet over high heat. Cook tofu until golden, 1 to 2 minutes per side. Set tofu aside.
4. Stirring constantly, cook onions in skillet over high heat until browned, 5 minutes. Add mushrooms; cook 2 minutes. Add red pepper and bok choy stems; cook 3 minutes. Add peas and ginger; cook 1 minute. Add marinade, cornstarch mixture, bok choy greens, and tofu. Cook until heated through. Season with soy sauce as desired. Serve with limes.

Man I love me some freshly fried bean curd!

It's not so scary when it's hidden amongst the vegetables.

27 going on 60

I am the only person I know, who, in their late 20’s, gets short of breath (in the bad way) when thinking of retirement savings. I can’t help it.

My co-worker Courtney called me neurotic as I sat fidgeting in her office chair waxing poetic about long-lost private-sector pensions. I recently found out about how lush teachers’ pensions and benefits can be, and have been nursing a mean jealous streak ever since (and the urge to ditch it all and become a teacher). I tell Matt things like, “We need a Vanguard account!” (Note: I know nothing about mutual funds or Vanguard accounts…I just like to say it). Matt tells me to, essentially, shut-up. “We have 40 more years to figure this out,” he says. The thought of working 40 more years is almost as depressing as our bleak financial future. Sometimes he says, “You might not even be around 40 years from now, so quit worrying.” (Lovely.) He follows that up with, “We’re young – who do you know who puts money into their 401(k) like we do?!” to which I reply, “EVERYONE!” and bury my face in my pillow. In a moment of panic this week I upped my 401(k) contribution from 10 to 15% and demanded Matt do the same. I also like to say we need a Roth IRA. I have NO IDEA what a Roth IRA is but I heard Suze Orman talking about them, and I want one.

Two weeks ago I announced, over omlettes, that we needed a budget. “We need to control our spending!” I huffed. Mid-chomp, Matt said, “What spending? I don’t buy anything,” to which I replied, “Well, I do.” We then logged on to view my credit card statement and, after subtracting things like food and gas, I was left with what I spent on a skirt and dress and some odds and ends I picked up at Target. I replied that they were obviously necessities and they didn’t count, but the crux of my argument was that, “You’re a guy; you wouldn’t understand”, which I don’t think he bought. So much for our budget.

I wouldn’t call us particularly thrifty, and we’re definitely not spend thrifts. We’re just…normal. I will forever be a champion of economy cars and the thought of having a Coach bag just ticks me off, but I love going out to eat and furnishing our home (relatively cheaply, of course). And damnit, if that frilly skirt is $100 bucks but I swear, swear, swear I’ll wear it all the time and I love it and I won’t buy another thing that month, then YES, I’m buying it. Look, it’s all about balance. And a good skirt.

I bring this up because I also worry about medical expenses. For example, like many of my surgical Crohn’s brethren, I have to bear a monthly B12 shot for the rest of my life. The negotiated rate with my insurance carrier (I am on a high-deductible plan, so I essentially pay in-full until I meet my deductible, but all “in-full” prices are the negotiated and preferred cost through the carrier) is $156. One hundred and fifty-six dollars for a shot of …a vitamin. Per month. Negotiated rate. The “negotiated” rate for Pentasa, my maintenance drug, hovers slightly under $500 a month. So, yes, I worry about money. And insurance. I think I should.

It is a bad thing to have Crohn’s and be a neurotic worrier. Stress makes my symptoms worse. And duh, stress also inhibits your ability to conceive. Last month my ob/gyn told me I need to reduce my stress. This statement elevated my stress. Couldn’t she see that was futile? That I’m having trouble with work, with trying to had a kid, and by golly, with the fact we have no retirement savings and no solid plan in place?! I thought that but all I said was, “Okay.” That’s pretty much how it always goes.

Matt will often sit me down and say, “What can I do to help you relax?” The first answer is always food. Tortilla chips or chocolate are often involved – but that really goes without saying. After that, it gets a bit grey. I’d like to believe I’m the least high-strung member of my family – it’s in the genes. But I ask for impossible things. Past answers have been, “New intestines and/or immune system”, “my own dog hotel business” (no laughing!), “you making 200k a year or winning the lottery”, and “a 30 minute back rub” (trust me, the last one is impossible). He’ll respond with, “Well, what about one of those puddings in the fridge?” “With whipped cream on top?” I’ll ask. “Yes.” “Deal.”

Now if you’ll excuse me. I have to go study for a test I have tonight that I’m worried about.

PS: You may have noticed (well, probably not, who am I kidding?!) that my posts have been less frequent. I’m enrolled in a class that will hopefully prepare me for a professional certification exam I’m taking in May. It would be a lie to say I have no time to post, but I love to watch t.v. on my time off. I adore t.v. I am nothing but an uneducated commoner, what can I say?! Posts until the end of May might be less frequent, but don’t worry, they’ll still be filled of my complaining (about health care, money, oh, you name it!) and of course food (that’s a given!).

Health care round-up!

Sometimes I forget how good Jon Stewart really is...until I see clips like these.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Anchor Management
http://www.thedailyshow.com/
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Health Care Reform

Last but not least, folks are committing fraud to get their hands on some decent health care. Ooo, ooo, pick me! I know what may help alleviate this problem!

African Peanut Soup

So my mother would not shut-up about her African Peanut Soup. African Peanut Soup this, and African Peanut Soup that. Just when I thought she was done with her soup stories, she visits with the soup recipe in hand. There is no stopping this woman!

In honor of my mother, I present African Peanut Soup. I didn't want to love it (I mean, the main ingredient is peanut butter....in a soup!), but it was delicious. Matt agrees and today were were planning to have yesterday's leftovers. The whole time he kept saying, "Is it African Peanut Soup time yet?" I think we both just like saying African Peanut Soup.

We doubled the recipe and had enough soup for a few meals (and we're big eaters) because you eat this soup with rice. Something that's a bit different but delicious and supremely satisfying? I give you....yes.....you know what's coming...what for it....AFRICAN PEANUT SOUP!

African Peanut Soup

• 2 T. oil
• 1 onion
• 1 carrot, grated
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 T. grated ginger
• 1/2 t. crushed red pepper
• 28 oz. can diced tomatoes
• 4 cups chicken or vegetable broth (Note: We used a bit less broth.)
• 1 cup smooth peanut butter (Note: We used crunchy. Take that, mom! We also doubled this recipe but only used about 1 1/3 cup peanut butter....I mean, that stuff is caloric!!)
• 2 cups chopped kale or sliced okra
• 1/2 to 1 pound raw shrimp, coarsely chopped or chicken breast, diced fine (Note: For a double recipe, we used two chicken breasts.)
• Salt and Pepper
• 1/4 cup cilantro
• 1/4 cup crushed peanuts for garnish
• chopped fresh hot peppers or hot sauce, for garnish (Note: If you're not a Crohnie, that is...)
  

Saute onion, carrot, garlic, ginger, and red pepper in oil until tender. Add tomatoes and broth and bring to a simmer. Cover and simmer 10 minutes. Add peanut butter slowly and whisk until smooth and creamy. If using chicken, add now along with kale or okra and cook 10 minutes or until chicken is cooked and okra is tender. If using shrimp, add it in the last 2-3 minutes before soup is done, so as not to toughen shrimp. Add salt and pepper tot taste and add extra broth if needed. Top with cilantro and serve with a scoop of rice and crushed peanuts.

I'm only including this photo because I loved the colors. I never thought I could love orange this way!

This is my fancy scoop of rice on top. What?! You think I was just going to plop it on there for this photo opp?! I think not.

Valentine's Day and Tomatillo Enchiladas (They go hand-in-hand, you know.)

I was never particularly for, or against, Valentine’s Day. In middle and high school choral members would deliver singing Valentine’s and the only one I received was from my friends…as a joke. (It was only heartbreaking for a few moments after I realized it wasn’t from a boy. Cheeks aflame, I chastised my friends and pretended not to care. Note: You always care.) Some girls, like my sister, had boyfriends in high school. I was not one of them. Girls carried around roses and, even alone, I never minded their boxes of chalky chocolate and cheesy stuffed bears holding polyester hearts with things like, “I LUV you!”. The tackiness was sort of charming. I was genuinely delighted when a friend got a gift. Looking back, I often cringe with embarrassment at how I’ve acted in particular situations, but this wasn’t one of them. I hope my child realizes the silliness (and the fun) of high school, too. My sophomore year of college I was dating a boy from Pennsylvania while I was in New York. Off the cuff, I decided I’d get a tattoo that night and went with a group of girlfriends. That was probably my most memorable Valentine’s Day (having it etched in my skin helps I suppose).

Like most men, Matt does not understand Valentine’s Day, but has learned its rules well. For our first Valentine’s Day together, I mentioned coworkers who received bouquets in the office. “And then Heather got this one that went over her cube and even DONNA got one!” I said only barely concealing my angst. I thought it was very obvious – well, if you read between the lines – that I wanted a bouquet, too, damnit! Matt said it’s silly, it’s expensive, and the flowers from Giant (our grocery store) are just as good (note: they aren’t). The next year even more coworkers received flowers and there is nothing more pathetic that walking by the front desk twenty times in one day hoping one measly bouquet was for you. None were. An email ensued…something like this:

Date: 2/14/2006
Time: 3:34 pm
To: Matt
From: Kathryn
Subject: Hi
Hey,
Today is Valentine’s day. All these girls are frolicking around with their flowers. Speaking of, am I getting any?

Date: 2/14/2006
Time: 3:52 pm
To: Kathryn
From: Matt
Subject: Re: Hi
Hey K,
I thought you said flowers were stupid? I can pick some up at Giant if you’d like. And a Cadbury bar. Fruit and Nut, again?

Date: 2/14/2006
Time: 3:53 pm
To: Matt
From: Kathryn
Subject: WHERE ARE MY DAMN FLOWERS?!?!
You can KEEP YOUR PRODUCE SECTION FLOWERS! Everyone is here with their pink and frilly flowers and their little love notes and they’re all googly-eyed and in love and it would be nice if you were a little more romantic, you know!!
P.S: Yes, please get me a candy bar. But I’m eating it all.

As a side note, I received flowers at the office the next year.

This Valentine's Day Matt was had a whole V-day arsenal, and after receiving a gorgeous vintage-inspired necklace from my favorite jewelry store in town, he said (not rudely, just matter-of-factly), "Well, don't go and expect this next year; this is a special treat." Ah...young love...

Because food and love and Matt all go hand-in-hand, I bought Matt the cookbook Everyday Mexican by Rick Bayless for Valentine's Day. Saucy! Spicy! Hot! Okay, I'm done with the play on words. Matt loves Rick Bayless. He has a PBS show and Matt watches it every Saturday when he comes home from badminton (with a can of tuna in hand and a bottle of Gatorade in the other - gourmet, indeed).

We cooked Rick's Tomatillo-Sauced Enchiladas with Spinach and Mushrooms. It was the first time I've ever bought tomatillos and they're delightful! Tart until heated and sticky when you cut into them, I was mesmerized by these little green buggers.

I love cooking, and can be a bit of a control freak in the kitchen. "No, you're not chopping that right!" I'd shout when my own knife skills are sub par, or "You call those onions caramelized?!?!". Letting go and cooking with Matt (and not tisk, tisking when the peppers are chopped and not finely diced) has been a long overdue and newly learned behavior. Now we often cook together, and I've relaxed and I can safely say Matt is knows his way around a kitchen more than the average husband. And now? And now he can cook a mean tomatillo-sauced enchilada. (We still have mishaps: for this he pulsed a whole bunch of Italian parsley instead of cilantro at first...but I love that he knows the difference between curly and flat-leaf parsley, so I let it slide.)

So here they are. I'm not going to kid you: the tomatillo sauce has to grow on you (it has a sweet-but-earthy resonance, almost like an old-world wine....I don't even know if I'm understanding myself, here, but you'll see), and for us, getting into the sauce and really digging it didn't take long. The next day we used the leftovers atop breakfast burritos stuffed with eggs, spinach, and cheese.

I love a little Mexican amongst the winter chill.

Tomatillo-Sauced Enchiladas with Spinach and Mushrooms

from chef Rick Bayless' book, "Everyday Mexican"

• 3 garlic cloves, peeled
  
• Fresh hot green chiles to taste (I like 2 serranos or 1 jalapeno), stemmed and quartered (Note: We used canned, because we're ghetto like that.)
  
• 1 1/2 (about 10 - 12 medium) pounds tomatillos, husked, rinsed and cut into quarters
  
• 3/4 cup roughly chopped cilantro
  
• 3 tablespoons vegetable oil, olive oil, or bacon drippings
  
• 2 cups chicken broth
  
• 8 ounces mushrooms, stemmed and sliced
  
• 1 large red onion, thin sliced
  
• 10 ounces spinach
  
• 1 cup shredded cooked chicken (optional) (Note: We did not use.)
  
• Salt
  
• 12 corn tortillas
  
• 3 tablespoons Crema, sour cream, heavy cream or creme fraiche (Note: We're no Rick Baylesses, so we used regular old sour cream.)
  
• 1/2 teaspoon sugar (optional)
  
• 1 cup Queso Fresco or other cheese (Note: We easily found Queso Fresco at Wegman's.)
  

Turn on the oven to 350 degrees. With a food processor or blender running, drop in the garlic and chiles one piece at a time, letting each piece get finely chopped before adding the next. Add the tomatillos and cilantro; process until smooth.

Heat 1 1/2 tablespoons of the oil or bacon drippings in a medium (3-quart) saucepan over medium-high. Add the puree and cook, stirring nearly constantly, until the mixture has reduced to the consistency of thick tomato sauce, about 7 minutes. (The more you cook it the richer and sweeter it will be). Add the chicken broth and simmer over medium heat for about 10 minutes to blend the flavors.

While the sauce is simmering, heat the remaining 1 1/2 tablespoons oil or drippings in a very large skillet over medium-high. Add the mushrooms and cook, stirring nearly constantly, for a couple of minutes, until they begin to brown. Add about three-quarters of the onion and continue cooking, stirring frequently, for another minute or two, until the onion looks translucent. Add the spinach and optional chicken and cook, stirring constantly, for a minute or so, until the spinach is wilted. Season with salt. Cover to keep warm.

Lay out the tortillas on a baking sheet and spray or brush lightly on both sides with oil or bacon drippings, then stack them in twos. Slide the tortillas into the oven and bake just long enough to make them soft and pliable, about 3 minutes. Remove from the oven and stack them in a single pile; cover with a kitchen towel to keep warm.

Stir the crema into the sauce. Taste and season with salt (add the sugar here too if you’re using it). Holding a tortilla by the edge dip it into the sauce, then lay it on a plate. Spoon a heaping 2 tablespoons filling down the center, roll up and lay seam side down on a dinner plate. Repeat with 2 more tortillas, arranging them on the same dinner plate. Douse the enchiladas with about 1/4 cup of the warm sauce, sprinkle with a quarter of the crumbled cheese and garnish with some of the reserved onion and cilantro sprigs. Assemble the rest of the servings, and carry to the table without hesitation.

A note from Rick: You can simplify this recipe in two ways. First, you can skip the vegetable filling and use only shredded cooked chicken. And second, you can use store-bought tomatillo salsa (you'll need about 4 cups). Blend it until smooth, then transfer to a saucepan and bring it to a boil. Add the crema and check the seasonings (it will likely be quite spicy ande tangy, so you may want to add extra crema and/or sugar). At your restaurant, we make these vegetarian enchiladas with roasted root vegetables in the fall, put each portion in an individual heatproof dish, top with a sprinkling of Chihuahua-style melting cheese and run them under a broiler. Coarse shreds of smoked ham hock (or several rashers of crisp bacon) are really delicious in the (then non-vegetarian) filling.

My chopping Valentine.

Rolled like a true Mexican!

We ate them while watching the Olympics.

Couscous and Chickpea Salad

My favorite cooking is born from boredom, hunger, and a well-stocked fridge and pantry. It also takes 10 minutes flat and measuring is never involved. This weekend I was positively voracious as I popped open a jar of marinated artichoke hearts and greedily ate one, straight from the jar, my fingers in oil. Those things are pure heaven. Matt and I had just been to the grocery store and our produce place the day before, and I had food to burn.

There are certain things I always keep in our pantry: canned beans, for one. Cheap, fast, healthy and filling. I love beans. I always thought the beans and gas correlation was a whole lot of bologna…until we became bean-eating maniacs. Lentils, black beans, pinto beans…it’s getting ridiculous. While at the store Matt is always sure to ask, “What’s our bean situation?” If we’re under three bean varieties, the situation isn’t good. For this dish I grabbed a can of chickpeas. I also always have tons of grains in addition to rice: there’s the quinoa, the whole wheat couscous, the tri-colored couscous, the Israeli couscous, orzo…you name it. I grabbed the couscous (how can you not love something that cooks in five minutes flat?). With the artichoke hearts in hand, and a fridge of just-bought produce, I was ready to go.

Here it is: a little something I threw together for a quickie lunch on Sunday. We often have all of these things in our pantry/fridge, and together, it’s just pure divinity. The dish took ten minutes flat and required no brainpower or culinary tricks to execute: score! I love cold salads like this: they’re so refreshing and you can essentially throw anything into the mix. I added the chickpeas for some heft and protein. We do something similar in the summer, but hot: simply grill every veggie in your fridge and mix with a bit of olive oil and couscous, top with some Parm and some lemon zest and a handful of herbs and swoon. It’s our summertime go-to favorite.

Serves 2 as a main dish, or 4 as a side.

Couscous and Chickpea Salad

• 1 cup uncooked couscous
• 1 pint grape tomatoes, halved or quartered
• 10 oz. spinach, sautéed (more or less)
• 1 small red onion, diced
• 1 can (15 oz) chickpeas
• 1 small jar marinated artichoke hearts in oil, chopped
• ½ cup packed Italian parsley leaves, roughly chopped
• Juice of ½ a lemon
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 Tb. Olive oil for sautéing spinach (and adding to dish)
• Few ounces of feta cheese
• Salt and pepper, to taste

Cook couscous (one cup couscous = one cup water). When that is cooking, add the tomatoes, beans, onion, and artichokes to a large bowl. Mince garlic and sauté for a quick minute and then add spinach, until wilted. Now add the cooked couscous and spinach to your bowl and mix (add the oil from the skillet, too). Add the parsley, feta, and lemon juice and mix gently. Taste and add salt and pepper as needed (I used several grinds for both). Serve or refrigerate.

Just putting on the finishing touches...

Ah....there we go.

Chocolate makes everything better

Today I got my period: on day 41 of my cycle. Trying to have a baby is like holding your breath for over a month, only to exhale and start it all over again the next. I wish I could be nonchalant about this, but somehow along the way starting a family has become everything to me. This sort of longing gets into your bones. It starts coloring your decisions. Which is probably why Matt just returned home from picking up chocolate (with nary a complaint). When he saw the tears I think he knew instantly lots and lots of chocolate would be involved (the stash: Andes mints, a Cadbury bar, and mousse...I'm already in a happier place).

With the odds stacked against us (I don't start Clomid until this upcoming cycle, and sheesh, we had a negative home test) we knew - rationally - heck, I probably wasn't, but that didn't stop me from looking at crib combos on Target.com this afternoon, or Matt demanding (oh lord, I hope in jest) - if I was pregnant - that we call him/her Cletus...as in "Cletus the Fetus". (I cannot make this stuff up.) Even with my positively screwed up reproduction system (hell, whole pelvic cavity) and a staggeringly long 36-day cycle, 41 days should only be reserved for pre-menopausal women. But I'm looking at the bright side: at least I'm getting a chocolate bar out of this. And yes, maybe I will have that drink.