Cooking During a Pandemic

Our house is out of chicken. I was low before the whole coronavirus/hoarding thing happened, and now all of the stores are out.

It is a main staple for me in my cooking, it is so versatile in all the ways you can prepare it. I've shopped multiple Cub Foods locations, my local Lund's, Wayne hit Costco, and no one has any. We are not dark meat eaters, all those chicken thighs can just sit in the case.

I'm so bummed. And yet...my kids couldn't be happier.

"Chicken this, chicken that," they would say. They are thrilled. No chicken during the entire quarantine! Hooray for them!

Both Wayne and I picked up cuts we normally wouldn't pick up. Pork tip roast. New-to-us cuts of beef. Turkey tenderloins.

And tonight, I roasted a pork tip roast with a dry rub recipe I selected from Allrecipes.com.

As it roasted the house filled with its aroma. It drifted from the kitchen through the entire lower level, up the stairs and finally to the closed bedroom doors of the two teenagers. They finally came downstairs wondering, "What smells so good?"

This stuff, oh yeah.

Even my non-pork eater ate two slices of this roast at dinner, it was that good.

Later this evening, at a virtual happy hour via Google hangouts, my friends and I kept looking for silver linings in what's going on right now.

• More acceptance from corporations to accommodate work-from-home arrangements.
• Insurance companies finally accepting and paying for telehealth appointments. (Yay progress!)
• Unity across our entire country regardless of party.
• Universal focus on what's important in life: Family. Relationships. Love.

These are crazy times. The last pandemic of this size was in 1918. The Spanish flu took 50 million lives worldwide — its mortality rate was 10%. The coronavirus has a mortality rate of 1%, nowhere near as deadly. And yet, if 70% of Americans get it, 2.5 million people will die.

Let's not go there.

So please, stay safe, stay home, love your family, and eat all the random sh*t you can buy. Except this stuff. I would be hard pressed to buy this, even with the enticement of bacon.

Good Minnesotans never take the last one. Anyone? Anyone?

Creamed Tuna on Toast

Subtitled "Validation that I'm a good cook."

My youngest is known for her back-handed compliments, statements like:

"You're not as annoying as I thought you'd be." (Said to a new student after they became friends.) 

"This isn't as bad as I was expecting." (Said to me after taking a bite of a dish I made.)

"After eating school lunches, your cooking is pretty good, Mom!" (Also said to me after she started taking school lunches in high school.)

So I have to set the record straight.

I'm a good cook. Most of the food I prepare is edible, not chewy, not dried out, has flavor and provides nutrients to my family when enjoyed in moderation. I make an amazing marinara sauce, have learned how to make fresh pasta which has gotten rave reviews, and can roast and saute vegetables to perfection. 

Today I recounted to my kids one of my favorite meals that I ate as a kid — creamed tuna on toast. It is exactly what it sounds like. If you want to try it, here's the recipe:

1 can of tuna

1 can of canned peas (15 oz, strain out the water first)

1 can of cream of mushroom soup

Mix it all together, add a little milk if needed and warm on the stove. While warming, toast up a bunch of bread. Serve the stack of toast alongside the bowl of creamed tuna, and voila! It looked a lot like the photo above when you put it on your plate.

I loved this meal as a kid. It had a blend of mush and crispy toast, or mushy toast if you let it soak in. And I loved the satisfying "pop" of peas in my mouth when I ate them.

When Wayne and I were first married I made this dish for the two of us one night. I like peas, he does not. If his mom ever cooked with tuna he doesn't remember eating it. We sat down to our stack of toast and bowl of creamed tuna and he looked at me skeptically. He tried it, ate one spoonful and got himself a can of chicken noodle soup from the cupboard which he warmed up and ate instead.

"Don't ever make that again," he advised. And I haven't, for as much as I've wanted it myself.

Fast forward 25 years. We have two girls, teens now, neither of whom like peas or tuna. One of them is gluten-free, and gluten-free bread isn't known for being the best, even when toasted.

Today I just described this dish to them both and told them how in my house growing up, it was a staple dish in frequent rotation. They both made gagging noises and agreed that I am indeed a better cook since I never try serving them that dish.

Speaking of which, I believe this entire post is a back-handed compliment to my mom, because I loved that dish and clearly her grandchildren wouldn't. Love you, Mom! 

Don't Try This One at Home

I love the website AllRecipes.com. Probably half of the recipes in regular rotation in my house came from that website.

AllRecipes.com is a website of recipes that are primarily user-generated and user reviewed. From great-great-grandma's recipe for almond poppyseed cookies to 100 variations of chicken cacciatore, it's a great sampling of Americana cooking.

For New Year's Eve, Lindsey asked to have a sleepover and we turned it into a sleep-under, meaning her guest had to leave by 10 p.m. (It's a brilliant concept and I cannot take credit for it, my friend Jennifer introduced me to the idea.) Lindsey's friend Maia would be joining us for the evening's meal. Lindsey wanted to try something new for dinner, so she and I went through the AllRecipes site days ago and picked out a recipe for chicken with balsamic vinegar and garlic. Sounded yummy and looked simple, and had 4.5 out of 5 stars out of 1,850 reviews. Can't go wrong, right?

I should have remembered the first rule of cooking: NEVER try a new recipe on new people Never. No matter how good the reviews or how simple it appears.

I picked up the ingredients on my way home from work, along with Wayne's traditional New Year's Eve dinner of cold shrimp. I tried to print out the recipe at home, but the girls had used up all the ink in the printer making up "Wanted" signs for themselves, now that they have Nerf guns and all. No worries, I'd just use the recipe off my phone.

Except that on the phone you have to keep scrolling up to see the ingredients, then back down to see the instructions. If I were using the iPad there was a format for making recipes from the device itself that would've worked beautifully, but the iPad was providing entertainment elsewhere in the house. So I kept forgetting steps, or had to keep checking the amount. It was frustrating and took twice as long as it should have.

I was supposed to dredge the chicken in a flour mixture before-hand -- I made up the flour mixture but forgot to dredge it. Pulled it back out of the pan, dredged it and popped it back in.

The minute I added the chicken brother/balsamic vinegar mixture, I knew we were in trouble.

The strong vinegar odor emanating from the stove was enough to clear your sinuses and knock you over. It was so odiferous that my eldest and her friend went upstairs to play because the entire first floor smelled, and my husband found some candles and lit them all over the kitchen and dining room to mask it.

Note the candle on the dining room table, too.

Good Lord.

I checked the ingredients -- yep, I had followed the recipe, that was the amount of vinegar that it called for. And then I read some of the reviews.

Every review I read said that the recipe was AWESOME except that they had reduced the amount of vinegar, or they hadn't floured the chicken because it turned out slimy, or they added cream to the balsamic reduction to reduce the acidity, or what have you.

They all gave it 4 or 5 stars, but nearly all of them had their own twists on how they had modified the recipe to make it better. In other words, the recipe in its current state was...not great. Quite bad, actually. And I was following it to a tee.

Here's the deal, recipe reviewers of the world: if a recipe is only good when you modify it a certain way, it's actually a new recipe! Don't give the current iteration 4 or 5 stars; give it a 2 and then post your own variation that you created which improved it. Otherwise you convince poor saps like me to try it in its current state and be accused of trying to poison not only my family but also my daughter's guest.

The good news is that the sautéed green beans that I had served with it turned out good, as did the rice. And the chicken itself was tolerable once you took it out of the sauce it had been cooking in. The sauce went into the garbage and the candles remained lit for several hours after dinner. And Maia survived a dinner at our home and didn't starve. Of course, we did ply her with popcorn later on while watching a New Year's Eve special.

The recipe will NOT be getting 4 or 5 stars from me. Just saying.

Gratitude for Modern Conveniences

Did I mention that our dishwasher sprung a leak on Christmas Eve?

It actually happened when we ran the dishwasher overnight on the 23rd. We ran it even though it wasn't full because it was 2 degrees and expected to get down to 12 below overnight (and it did, in case you were wondering). We've had the water line to the dishwasher freeze in previous cold spells, so we thought that by keeping water running as the temperature dropped that it would keep the line from freezing.

Instead it sprung a leak, resulting in water all through our basement.

Awesome.

This means I baked a coffee cake Christmas Eve, a pasta dish that evening and a nice dinner the following night, while hand-washing every single dish, spoon, fork, knife, serving dish, plate, cup and bowl that was dirtied. This means that we washed dishes approximately 4 to 5 times a day, for five days.

We were able to get a hold of a plumber who came to look at it the day after Christmas.  He determined that not only was a hose busted, but the dishwasher itself had a leak and an appliance repairperson would also need to be consulted.

We sure know how to break stuff.

We hosted a family dinner on Saturday while the dishwasher was only partially repaired, resulting in dirty dishes on every flat surface in the kitchen before clean-up began the following morning.

Re-routing the plumbing to and from the dishwasher so it can be INSIDE the exterior insulation (what a concept).

So I learned to appreciate my modern dishwasher, but also to appreciate clean dishes, because I have to say that our silverware and dishes never gleamed quite as well as they did while we were hand-washing.

One of many loads of dishes washed in a day.

And it also reminded me of this little story I read in Reader's Digest many moons ago.

A recent bride had just moved into a brand-new home with her husband.  She was incredibly excited to show her family the home with all its modern conveniences. One day the bride's grandmother visits, and the granddaughter happily takes her on a tour of the house, spending lots of time in the kitchen with its modern appliances.

The grandmother smiled as she surveyed the beautiful and modern kitchen and asked, "If you had only one of these modern conveniences and had to give up the rest, which would be the one item you would keep?"

The bride looked around the kitchen, at the dishwasher, the side-by-side refrigerator, the stovetop and oven, the warming drawer,  microwave and debates: Which one could she absolutely NOT live without? Finally she says, "The microwave. Because if nothing else worked, I could at least heat up some takeout."

"Interesting choice," the grandmother said, "I would've chosen the running water."

What's a Pineapple Look Like Anyway?

I'm not a big fruit and vegetable eater, never have been. But my kids are getting me to broaden my horizons. Every time they accompany me to the grocery store I end up buying something surprising. Like kiwi fruit. Or plums. Or pears.

And this past week I did one more thing I never thought I'd do; I bought a whole pineapple with the intention of cutting it up at home.

My kids begged me. I'm not kidding.

And so this weekend we tackled the pineapple.

It was fun, with both the girls watching in anticipation to see how tough the outside of the pineapple was, and how the core looks different from the more edible part. They felt the thick, tough leaves, the prickly exterior and couldn't wait to start nibbling.

It was delicious, juicier and firmer than the canned stuff I usually buy. The pieces were disappearing as quickly as I could cut them up.



Next on our list: pomegranate.

I Smell Bacon

Did I mention before how much I love bacon?

So much so that this year my dad ordered some special meats for our family for Christmas, including some amazing flavored thick-cut bacon, and Hawaiian chicken breasts.

The Hawaiian chicken breasts are stuffed with a special ooey-gooey cheese and pineapple chunks, then wrapped in bacon. Beautiful, woven bacon that sizzles and oozes into the chicken as it bakes.

Yum.

But unfortunately, the girls hate these Hawaiian chicken breasts. They particularly hate the oozing cheese.

So, in order to have some more of these, we decided to make an equivalent of these for our girls, with none of that icky stuff that they don't like. And since Lindsey REALLY wanted to help make dinner, I decided to put her crafting skills to work, weaving bacon.

Four strips of bacon the long way, four strips cut in half, then woven together to make a mat of meat. We put the chicken breast in the middle of it, wrapped it around the chicken breast and set it on the broiling pan with the stuff ones.

400 degrees for between 50 and 60 minutes, and voila.

A little sauteed broccoli on the side, and I had four happy, filled family members.

No, I did NOT have to find a special frying pan for this recipe. And yes, I did have to cut the bacon.

Because That's the Way I've Always Done It

I love bacon.

It's ingrained in my olfactory nerves to LOVE the smell of fresh bacon. Growing up we could smell bacon cooking in our house seven days a week. It is still today a main staple of my dad's diet, though he's cut back to six days a week.

But I've always been confused by one thing.

Why do they make bacon so long when it can't lay flat in a frying pan?

And really, frying pans are round, so usually you can only lie one or two pieces flat in the middle, then if you want to get four or five pieces in the pan you have to curve them around the edges, then keep moving them around as they cook and shrink in size.

It never seemed to make much sense to me.

Over the years, if I found myself in a home goods store I would occasionally browse the cookware section for a pan specially made for frying bacon. You know, a square one, with decent-sized sides to keep the grease in. I have a stove top griddle that's square, but the edges are so short that the grease would be dripping down into the burner with the amount of bacon I cook at one time.

I never did find a bacon frying pan. Huh. Well, perhaps one day somebody will invent one. Someone came up with the PedEgg, right?

And then a month or so ago I had a good friend and our neighbor over for breakfast. I LOVE cooking breakfast for people. It's such a great, casual meal. The requirement was that they arrive in their pajamas or comfy clothes -- no getting dressed crap.

So they came down, enjoyed a cup of coffee, and watched as dish after dish was set on the table. Syrup. Butter. Scrambled eggs. Buttermilk pancakes. Sausage links. And finally, bacon.

"Wow," my friend said, "I've never seen bacon so long!"

"Really?" I said in surprise, "But that's how you buy bacon."

She shrugs. "Well, I could never get mine to fit in my pan, so I've always cut mine in half before frying it."

Oh. My. God.

I am an idiot of a colossal size. It's amazing I hold down a job.

It seriously never OCCURRED to me to cut the bacon in half. It was such a great example of how our brains (or perhaps just mine in particular) hold on to tradition; I had never even thought to question how I cook bacon.

For Christmas I received a shipment of meats from my dad, and in it was a couple of packets of maple flavored bacon. I couldn't wait to cook it up for breakfast with my family.

But first, I cut it in half. Guess what, it still tastes just as good as the long pieces.

Restaurant Night

What do you do when you have a frig full of meals?

You have restaurant night!

This restaurant night was very special, because it was organized by my sister, Kristi, who helped the girls make actual menus earlier in the day.

What is restaurant night, you ask?

This is our family's way of dealing with leftovers. All available meals become items on a menu that people can select. They are reheated in the kitchen by the "cook" and served by the littlest servers. It's been a great way to make leftovers a fun meal.

When it came time to run the restaurant, I got to be one of the patrons sitting down instead of the one in the kitchen.

Why yes, you can take my drink order, thank you.

A serving of quinoa sounds delicious.

And dessert, compliments of Sweet Retreat? Yum!

What a fabulous meal!

A Clucker of a Dinner

I arrived home later than usual one evening this past week with a meal that had yet to be made. There were leftovers for Wayne and I but I still had to make something for the little ones, and not a huge one that would create tons of leftovers going bad in our frig.

I scrounge in the frig and freezer for items: no chicken nuggets. There are fish sticks, but not enough for a meal. They had pasta for lunch so that was not an option. I thought we'd have to resort to take-out when I realized I could MAKE our usual take out meal: chicken and broccoli stirfry. Perfect.

Since we're having a mix of leftovers and a freshly cooked meal Lindsey decides it's restaurant night, so she begins making up menus while Marissa dons an apron and calls herself the chef. She helps me every step of the way, too, stopping when it came time to cut up the chicken.

She watches me cut up a chicken breast and says, "Mommy, you're hurting it."

"Honey I can't hurt it, it's dead."

"What was it?" she asks.

"It's chicken," I say, and Lindsey and I begin making clucking noises, because we're sensitive like that.

More and more questions about the chicken, what color it might have been, how long it lived, why did it die, why do we eat it, what part are we eating, and so on.

I make up the chicken and broccoli part; Lindsey nibbles on a piece of chicken and declares it edible. We serve up the stirfry on their plates and sit down to our various dishes. Lindsey tucks right in, shoveling rice and stirfry into her mouth - clearly a winner with our picky eater.

"Do you have everything you need?" I ask Marissa, who seems to be picking at her meal.

"Yep," she says, "I have grapes, rice, broccoli...and animals," poking at the chicken at the last word. She took a piece of chicken and says, "I think I taste furry."

We all burst into laughter, Marissa most of all. But surprisingly, she ate her animal and declared it good.



Marissa eating something other than a chicken.



Cook, Eat, Play

I have a friend who immigrated here to Minnesota from India. I am always amazed by people who choose to pick up their lives and move continents away -- I would never have the courage. But while that feat in and of itself is amazing to me, what's even more amazing is her cooking. Her family feasts on food that most of us can only get at restaurants, or, if we're so lucky, at our gourmet-cooking friend's house.

So last Saturday she invited myself and other friends to her home for an authentic Indian dinner, which we would help her cook and learn along the way. Also, our kids, mostly girls in the same age range, could play during these activities.

I have to be honest, I've never been a huge fan of Indian food. I'm not a terribly adventurous eater, and when I don't know what goes into it a meal I am even more skeptical. So while I'll eat Indian food when presented with it, I typically don't seek it out and rarely if ever crave it.  I figured that the more I knew about what went into it the more I would enjoy it.

I was right.

The food was ah-mazing. Incredible. And I had a greater appreciation for it because I knew the work that went into every step and knew every ingredient. Padma takes her cooking to a new level -- many of the ingredients we were putting together you could buy already pre-made for you and then just mix with the other, fresh ingredients. But that's not how Padma cooks. We had spices that had to be shelled from pods to be used, then ground together with other spices. I wish I could remember all the names of the ingredients, they were amazing on their own and even more spectacular when blended with everything else.

At the end of the night I mopped up every bit of food with the homemade chapatis and licked the sauce that had dripped down my chin.

I'm now officially a fan.

What's even more unbelievable is that Padma will cook this food for you -- all you need to do is go to her house to pick it up. Check out her website, Padma's Delights, and try out her cooking. You won't be disappointed.

The Cook Can't Win

After cooking the same 10 recipes for approximately 15 years of our married life, I've decided that I need to try some new ones.

Unlike early on in our marriage there are now more people to please, not just two adults. We now have two little ones, one of whom is a self-selecting vegetarian, and the other who can live off of burgers, pizza and pasta. Last week's vacation proved both these points out.

So a couple of weeks ago I tried a recipe called Chicken A La Impress Me from AllRecipes. The summary is that you roll up chicken breasts with cheese, ham and julienned carrots and zucchini and bake them.

As I am pounding the chicken breast flat so I can roll them up, the self-selecting vegetarian comes up to me and asks me where chicken comes from. She suddenly makes the connection that the chicken that we eat is the same as the animal that has feathers and lays eggs.

"You mean, this is an animal?" she says.

Yes, but a delicious animal.

"So do they have to kill it to eat it?" she asks. "How do they kill it?"

"That is a good question," I say, "And one you should ask your father; he used to live on a farm."

She comes back in after a while and observes me putting the ham on the chicken.

"Mommy, is ham an animal too?" she asks.

Despite her doubts, the chicken was a huge hit with the kids. They think it looks delicious, they love the carrots in them, and they both gobble it up.

I ask my husband how he likes it; he shrugs his shoulders and says, "It's chicken."

Okay...next recipe.

Last night I dug up a recipe for a crock pot beef stew -- according to the author, she tested several versions before her boyfriend finally gave his approval on this recipe. So I decided to give it a try. Last night I did the prep work, and this morning before leaving for work I turned the crock pot on and left for work.

We came home to a house that smelled ah-maz-ing.

We dug in, and I got a huge thumbs up from the husband. He LOVED it.

The girls, on the other hand, wouldn't touch it. Lindsey at least tried it, I will give her credit for that, but she didn't like it because the carrots weren't crunchy, like fresh ones.

The self-selecting vegetarian, on the other hand, ate a good dinner of grape tomatoes, fresh carrots, yogurt and strawberries.

Now it's your turn -- what are your family's favorite recipes? Please share -- anything that your kids and spouse will eat. Help a cook out.