Omelette Dinner for One

Due to the nature of his job, there are times when the husband travels. And during those times, I'm extraordinarily tempted to just order a pizza and nosh on it for three consecutive dinners. But I can't do that anymore. As tempting as pizza is to me (and hoo boy do I LOVE pizza), I haven't straightened out my eating habits for the past three months only to blow it because I can't control myself for one meal.

So, I've come to just craft some singles-only dinners from whatever is sitting in the fridge at any given time. Tonight, that dinner became an omelette. An omelette is one of those things I never made before, and when I did, I thought, "Well that was way too easy and tasty." And it really is very, very easy.

The basis of any good omelette is fresh eggs (I use local eggs, of course), salt, pepper, a well-buttered and nonstick skillet, and a low heat. That last bit is the most important. It's tempting to just whip up some eggs and throw them on high heat to cook quickly, but cooking the hell out of something like an egg is just not (in the words of Alton Brown) good eats.

My omelette preparation: crack open 3 eggs in a medium bowl. Add about 1 Tbsp. milk (this will ensure a fluffy omelette) and salt and pepper to taste. Whisk together and set aside. In a nonstick skillet, heat about 1 Tbsp. butter (again, I use farm fresh butter here) over low heat, turning the skillet around as the butter heats to coat the sides and bottom evenly and prevent sticking.

Pour the egg mixture into the skillet and let sit over low/medium-low heat for...well, I don't time mine. I go by looks alone here. You can tell when the egg is starting to set as it gets fluffier around the edges and takes on a darker look and begins to ever so slightly bubble in the middle. When it reaches this consistency, take a rubber spatula and run it gently around the edges of the omelette just to loosen it up a bit. The next part really depends on your level of taste in omelettes. I prefer a runnier middle, so after I've loosened up the edges and still have a runny consistency on the top of the omelette, I add cheese sprinkled down the center of the omelette (it was organic cheddar cheese tonight, but you could use Gruyere, provolone, Swiss...really anything you have on hand) to melt slightly. (If you like your omelette more done, go ahead and sprinkle on the cheese to melt, but you'll have to wait a while for the center to set perfectly--during that time, do not be tempted to turn up the heat.)

Next, I add my meats, veggies, etc. The great thing about an omelette is that you really can't go wrong with your fillings of choice. My filling of choice tonight was leftover roasted broccoli. But you could use onions, peppers, tomatoes, whatever your heart desires. Just sprinkle down the center, then take your spatula and flip one corner of the omelette over, pressing down slightly, followed by the other corner. (You should note that, if you really like a set omelette, this part isn't going to be pretty. Because the consistency is set, when you go to turn in the corners of your omelette, it is going to split, and you run the risk of your fillings spilling out into the skillet.) Then just slide gently onto a plate. Now, I prefer to add diced tomatoes at the end, but that's just me. And for those who enjoy some heat, Tabasco sauce makes a great complement for an omelette.

My side tonight was quick, sauteed potatoes. Seriously, I can't believe how long I've gone without making potatoes this way. I've always had trouble reconciling a crispy exterior to a soft interior when sautéing potatoes raw, but this little trick saves a ton of time and fretting. Just take a potato (I use new potatoes), stab it a few times with a fork just to ensure it doesn't build up pressure and explode in the microwave, and microwave for about 2.5 minutes. Carefully remove the potato (I generally use one per person), and, using a paper towel to hold it in place (and to keep your fingers from getting scorched), slice into about 3/4" discs, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and saute in olive oil over medium heat until lightly brown on the outside. It takes no time at all, and the texture is perfection.

Jamaican Jerk Chicken

The great thing about shopping at the farmer's market now instead of at the grocery store is the abundance of fresh meats. We already have a freezer well stocked by Shadowchase Farm, but we tend to eat chicken the most. And god, what a difference fresh poultry makes. It's a bit pricier (a 3.5-pound bird will run around $12 in this area), but the quality is well worth it (imagine that). Because we've cut back on meat consumption across the board, my usual plan of action is to just get up early enough to make it to the market by 8 a.m. on a Saturday to ensure I get a chicken if we need one for the week or two ahead. Our poultry choice is Weathertop Farm.


And no, you can't have the convenience of picking up a few pieces of a chicken (say, the breast or thighs as you would in the grocery store). But who cares? Part of the joy of cooking, to me, is getting to really experience the food. And while the thought of actually killing a chicken isn't something I want to do anytime soon, I feel better honing my chicken cutting skills than I would just picking up a hormone-filled piece of chicken packed on a piece of styrofoam and complete with one of those hideous chicken diaper things--you know, the white plastic thing that is placed under the cut of meat for some reason I've never really wanted to explore. (By the way, those "chickens" in the grocery store? During their short lifetime they have been packed to the rafters in the tiniest spaces imaginable and pumped full of hormones to stimulate the growth of huge breasts--basically the poultry equivalent of breast implants. Which means they grow so quickly that they're legs are rendered useless, so they eventually cannot support their own weight. Also? They're fed antibiotics to combat the plethora of diseases running rampant in those "living" conditions, and even still we're exposed to salmonella from chicken available in the grocery store. And for what? The sake of convenience and a cheaper grocery bill? You know what? I'll gladly take that $12 bird from the farmer's market that renders me eight good pieces of meat, a carcass for homemade chicken stock, and the knowledge that my bird had a good life, raised in the open pasture and allowed to be a chicken. I don't understand anymore those who choose to ignore what they eat because it's easier. I really don't want to pay your healthcare costs, thankyouverymuch.)

Stepping off the soap box....anyway. Yeah, Jamaican jerk chicken. That's the recipe I decided to use for my fresh chicken this particular day. I've started to drift more toward my Joy of Cooking cookbook for recipes and inspiration, and this is where the jerk paste recipe for the chicken was found.


So, Jamaican Jerk Paste:
1/3 c. fresh lime juice
10 habanero peppers (or 1/4 c. habanero-based hot sauce)
2 Tbsp. distilled white vinegar
3 scallions, coarsely chopped
2 Tbsp. dried basil
2 Tbsp. dried thyme
2 Tbsp. yellow mustard seeds or 1 Tbsp. dry mustard
2 tsp. ground allspice
1 tsp. ground cloves
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. black pepper


Combine all ingredients in a food processor and puree. I omitted the scallions and subbed in the habanero-based hot sauce. This is a really nice, spicy blend (the allspice particularly stands out). I do wish I had gone with the raw habaneros, because it wasn't spicy enough. Anyway, I just brushed the paste mix on the cut chicken pieces and grilled on medium heat until done, basting with the leftover paste along the way.


It's important to note that, because fresh chicken isn't pumped full of god knows what, the cooking time is quicker. Therefore, I opt to go with the low and slow way of cooking when using fresh, locally raised meats. It's worth the time.


You can always brine fresh chicken as well to lock in the moisture--just do a simple Google search, and you'll find an encyclopedia of information and recipes, which usually just include a simple mix of water, sugar, and salt.


I'll get to the sides next: just some grilled new potatoes (again, from the farmer's market) and Asian pears.  Pears are pretty prevalent right now as it's their season to shine, so I just picked up a few and made a simple honey vinaigrette to drizzle over them (seriously simple--just combine some honey and lime to taste).

Now, I'm going to step back to the chicken. I'm still no expert at cutting a whole chicken efficiently, but I wanted to share a video that I've found is a great resource for some cutting tips. Yes, it's Gordon Ramsay, but he's helpful--he's not yelling. And again, if you're so inclined as I am, you can easily save the carcass and neck (yep, my fresh chicken comes complete with the neck, which you just have to lop off if it's there) in a Ziploc bag and freeze for future use in stocks. Voila--despite the initial cost, a fresh chicken can yield several uses.

Steaks and Banana Peppers

Crap, I'm behind again on this blog. Between work and some dog surgery, I've put myself behind. So, I'm just going to dump what I did tonight on here, then cull through my photos from the past month to see what other "culinary gems" I can share.

Just a quick catch-up: I've made an even more conscience attempt to rid our house and, therefore, our cooking of processed foods. Most of our groceries are purchased at a local farmer's market or an ethnic, locally owned (i.e., non-chain) store in the area. The results have been well worth it, and I call bullshit from here on out for anyone who dares to say buying healthier is more expensive. Because you know what? Our household has already saved about $200 in grocery bills this month alone going the local route. Not only is it more cost-effective, it's also a great way to lose weight. I've lost 16 pounds in the past two months going local and cutting out the grossly overproduced corn products (such as high fructose corn syrup found in soft drinks) in my foods.

I will say that there are a few exceptions to our local rule. Mainly olive oil. You can't grow olives in Southwest Virginia, and I know of no locals who produce it. So, I rely on the aforementioned ethnic store (for those in the area who want to know, it's Oasis World Market) to purchase quality olive oil. I'm learning to weed out the processed staples (e.g., flours, grains and sugar) and sub in quality, organic staples. So far, that's meant using honey in place of white, granulated sugar and whole-wheat flour as a 1:1 substitute for the processed (and exceptionally non-nutritional) all-purpose flour.

No, this way of cooking is not convenient. This way of cooking means that when the tomatoes are done for the season, they are done. If I don't do any canning in time to bottle up the tomatoes, the peaches, etc., then that's it for the year. Which is okay, because after eating local produce for the past two months, I wouldn't look forward to trying to consume what's in the produce aisle of the grocery store, knowing full well it will be far inferior in taste and nutrition. Our house is going local, and it's going seasonal. It's a test, but it's been so much fun for this foodie to find creative ways to cook what's available in-season. It's how our ancestors cooked. Pretty sure it's how my great-grandmothers cooked. I like to think of what we're doing as an homage to them.

Anyway, off the soapbox and onto the recipes. Tonight was a ribeye steak (using, of course, grass-fed, grass-finished beef from our "supplier," Shadowchase Farm). To be honest, grass-fed beef is very tricky to cook. It tastes amazing, but it's also leaner than the "meat" you find in the grocery store. That means it cooks quicker than its grain-fed (inferior) relative. So, cooking grass-fed steaks has really been a learning curve that I can't quite nail down. Therefore, I'm leaving the cooking time out of this recap because I hit it at medium, and that's not the best way to eat a steak. I was shooting for medium-rare, which is the maximum doneness at which you should eat grass-fed steak (anything past that, and it becomes chewy and loses most of its healthy omega-3 nutrients [yeah, you just thought omega-3 came from salmon, didn't you? Turns out it comes from grass-fed, grass-finished beef as well; amazing what corporations can zap out of anything they get their hands on, and amazing what us little lemurs will eat without even thinking about it]).

But, I did like the marinade on this steak: 1/8 c. packed, fresh rosemary leaves; 1/4 c. olive oil; 1 Tbsp. balsamic vinegar; 2 garlic cloves, crushed; salt and pepper to taste. Place all ingredients in a blender or food process and puree until smooth. Place the steaks (I used two ribeye steaks, so if you have more steaks, just adjust the ingredients accordingly) in a glass casserole dish and cover with the marinade. I let the steaks marinade for about 2 hours because ribeyes are a notoriously tender cut of meat, so they don't need much help in the tender department.

Sides were white corn (from the farmer's market, of course) and a new favorite: stuffed banana peppers. A part of eating local is just grabbing something that looks interesting and trying to figure out how to fix it. I had six medium banana peppers sitting on our counter for about two weeks and wanted to use them. So, I did the following (again this was for 6 medium peppers; you can adjust the amount of ingredients below accordingly):

-Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
-Cut the tops off of the banana peppers and remove the ribs and seeds (you can do this by running a sharp knife around the outside of the rib and scraping out the insides).
-Boil the peppers in water for about 5 minutes until tender; drain and set aside.
-Chop the edible parts of the banana pepper tops and saute in a medium pan over medium heat along with 1/2 c. chopped onions for about 5 minutes.
-Add 3-4 large chopped tomatoes (with juices) and 2-3 minced garlic cloves to the onion mixture; season with salt and pepper and 1/2 tsp. each ground oregano and basil. Saute for about 8-10 minutes.
-Divide the tomato/onion mixture evenly. In one bowl of the mixture, add about 1/8 c. grated (fresh) Parmesan cheese, a handful of Panko crumbs, and about 1/4 tsp. salt to the tomato mixture (the other half of the mixture will be used to top the peppers).
-Place the Panko/tomato mixture in a pastry bag (if you don't have a pastry bag, just place the mixture in a Ziploc bag, close the bag, and cut the tip of one bottom corner of the bag to serve as a makeshift pastry bag).
-Squeeze the Panko mixture into the banana peppers that have been drained.
-Place the stuffed banana peppers into a small casserole dish and cover with the reserved tomato mixture.
-Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes (check the peppers halfway through; if they look cooked, just reduce the oven temperature to 275 or 300 degrees).

Learning about Food

As I mentioned in a previous post (here), I've become a fan of Michael Pollan and his writings. I could quote left and right from his books, but it's just easier for you to pick up a copy and educate yourself. I will tell you what I have taken away from the books as an individual, and these are simple, simple lessons to learn: 1) eat less; 2) stay away from fast food. It's really that easy. Except it's not. In principle, yes, they are easy lessons. They are things we already know. There is absolutely no way in this big, crazy world that eating a shit ton of fast food is going to be healthy. It's not. We KNOW that. It's just easier. And cheaper. I was a fan of fast food. When my husband was out of town, I coveted the fast food because I forgot how to cook for one person.

But I've given it up.

In one fell swoop, I stopped eating fast food after the first few pages of "The Omnivore's Dilemma." I've also stopped drinking soda--I haven't touched one in about a month. This Southern gal has even foregone the sweet tea. The result? I feel 10 times better about myself, and I've lost close to 10 pounds in that month. I'm more energetic. But the funny thing? I didn't accomplish any of that by starving myself. I just made a conscious decision to try to get off the Western diet (that is, one of processed foods and large, fatty portions) as much as I could. I eat less. I pay attention to when I'm actually full, which happens (as it turns out) well before I finish everything on my plate. I've started cooking more with whole, local foods.

Which leads me to this post: I decided over the weekend to endeavor to make a dinner using local foods to the extent possible. The dinner? I decided on spaghetti with meatballs. That meant the meatballs included only local, grass-fed and grass-finished beef (from Shadowchase Farm, a farm committed to producing grass-fed and grass-finished beef; we've since decided to order a family pack from them to stock our freezer), the sauce was homemade using ingredients that came without a bar code, and the spaghetti would be made from scratch.

Fortunately, I will say I have loved to cook since I was young. To me, cooking is therapy and probably speaks more to my obsessive compulsive desire to control things. But I love it. To me, this dinner was something I looked forward to making all week long. On morning runs, I would think about the ingredients to use, how to prepare everything just right.

Of course, I was daunted by one ingredient: the homemade spaghetti. You see, I love all things dough, but never has dough returned the favor by being easy on me in terms of recipes. I'm intimidated by making bread, and the thought of having to make something that requires kneading and resting makes me nervous.

Which is probably why, no, the spaghetti didn't turn out as well as I hoped. It was edible, yes, but it wasn't a quality consistency. I went into the recipe intimidated, and it showed in the results. Was it a disaster? No, not hardly. It just means I need more practice. The recipe I used was fairly simple (except I subbed in unbleached whole wheat flour because, well, I wanted whole wheat pasta). The eggs I used were from a local produce stand that sells the eggs on behalf of a local farm. So, my intentions were good in terms of the ingredients used--I just need to approach pasta-making the next time with more confidence, a better recipe, and (ahem, if anyone is so inclined to purchase it for me) a pasta machine (no, I don't have one, so I thought I could get by with rolling the dough by hand and slicing with a knife).

See? They totally look like pasta noodles.

I am happy to say, however, that the meatballs more than made up for the iffy pasta. Using one pound of the local beef from Shadowchase, I mixed in one egg (again, using only local eggs), about 1/2 tsp. salt, and freshly cracked pepper. I've never made meatballs before, but I've watched enough cooking shows to know that, if you want them to bind together well, it's best to use breadcrumbs in addition to the egg. I wanted to use some herbs, and I definitely didn't want to use store bought breadcrumbs, so I found the best of both worlds: a bit of leftover olive rosemary bread from a local bakery. I just sliced up the bread and popped it into a food processor to make about 1 c. of fresh breadcrumbs, tossing those in with the meat mixture. I rolled the meat into about 1.5" balls and placed them into the refrigerator to chill (I've found chilled meat works best when cooking patties or meatballs).

Meanwhile, I heated a large saute pan and about 1 tbsp. olive oil to medium-high heat and brought about 6 quarts of water to a boil in a separate pan for the pasta. I placed the chilled meatballs in the heated saute pan, cooking for about 6 minutes on each side, then turned them around the edges to brown. When finished, I removed the meatballs to a plate and tented them with aluminum foil to lock in the heat.

Overnight I had thawed some leftover homemade pasta sauce, so I poured that straight into the pan I used for the meatballs. I brought the sauce to a simmer over medium-low heat, then placed the meatballs into the sauce and covered, simmering and stirring occasionally for about 20 minutes.

It's important to note that, if you make homemade pasta, it takes much less time to boil the noodles. So, when my water came to a boil about 10 minutes before the meatballs and sauce were done, I poured in about 1 tbsp. salt and a drizzle of olive oil (to prevent the pasta from sticking together or to the pan), and boiled the pasta for about 6 minutes.

The result:

I'm sorry--there's no way for me to make spaghetti look edible in pictures.

A side just included shredded lettuce topped with cucumbers and cherry tomatoes, both purchased from the local farmer's market.

This way of cooking is, yes, a learning curve. It's not simple, but I've learned that actual food itself isn't simple. It's a process, it takes time. But you know what? I don't miss the processed, fast food or drinks. At all. 

The Potpourri: Quesadillas, Grass-Fed Beef, Farm Fresh Eggs

So some more catching up to do, I suppose. I'll start with a pretty straightforward meal we made a few nights ago: a Jack Cheese and Peach Quesadilla. I followed this, for the most part, verbatim (excluding only the cilantro because it's just not my favorite). I also used chicken tenderloins grilled with a salt, pepper, and chili powder seasoning as opposed to the rotisserie chicken suggested in the recipe. I grilled the chicken first, then kept the bit of chicken drippings warm so that it could be used to grill the tortillas and give them a bit of seasoning.

Sides included roasted potatoes (just quartered white new potatoes patted dry and tossed with roughly quartered onions; seasoned with salt, pepper, a touch of cayenne pepper, and chili powder; roasted in the oven at 425 degrees for about 25 minutes, tossing halfway through roasting time) and fresh tomato salad (tomatoes purchased from the produce stand, including Cherokee purple, a pink tomato, and a striped tomato, tossed with some olive oil, white wine vinegar, cumin, salt, and pepper).

See that green stuff? Yeah, picante habanero sauce, baby. Tabasco doesn't cut it for me anymore. Pretty sure the hubby blacked out for a few minutes after consuming one potato doused in the sauce.

Now, onto the more complicated recipes. I've become extremely involved in reading "The Omnivore's Dilemma," a book that has dramatically changed the way I think about food. I don't want to give a book report here, but it's an eye-opening, educational book. It is not a diet book but, instead, a book urging its readers to step away from the Western diet. In essence (at least to me), it is a non-diet book, a guide to quit a diet, in fact, that is obscenely affecting our lives. The Western diet, in a nutshell, is the quintessential American diet, one underlined by fast food and convenience instead of Slow Food (a movement quintessential to Italians who, despite their consumption of wine and what we consider fattier foods, are healthier because of the very way they eat and view food, or their relationship to food). The horrors of what we choose to ingest are positively overwhelming and, as a result, I have not touched any fast food nor any sodas in the weeks I have been reading Michael Pollan's diatribe. (In fact, I've lost more than 6 pounds by taking to heart Pollan's lessons, combined with running.) Overall, I am trying to make a conscious effort to become more, well, conscious of what it is I am eating. I can point to countless paragraphs in "The Omnivore's Dilemma" that just make sense (all of it, actually), but I will spare you: all I can say is, if you want to change your eating habits, go buy or check this book out from the library. For my part, our household grocery shopping habits are changing, and I am starting to lean more on a local produce stand, the farmer's market, and local meats. I want to know what it is I am eating, where it came from, its origins, something that is at the very heart of Pollan's book. You just can't do that at the grocery store. So, starting with baby steps, our meals have evolved (thought not completely as you will see) to have an origin that is local, not one whose only story is a barcode and a distribution origin of god knows where.

To start, I made a homemade lasagna Monday evening. This comprised a spaghetti sauce I made from scratch using tomatoes that were grown by the hubby's great-uncle. The sauce was simple: I just poached about 13-14 whole tomatoes in boiling water for about a minute to loosen the skins, peeled off the skins, squeezed out most of the seeds, and gave them a rough chop. I sauteed some peppers and onions (both of which came from the local produce stand just down from my house) in olive oil (sadly, I have not learned to make olive oil yet), added the tomatoes, seasoned, and tossed in some tomato paste (something, again, that came with a barcode from the grocery store; but I will learn how to make it from scratch one day).

Next up: the all-important meat. This is where I came to respect Pollan's book because he does not make a case for vegetarianism (something I tried for three years and failed at rather miserably). Instead, he makes a case for becoming a better, healthier meat eater: by learning where you get your meat and ensuring that meat came from, well, happy cows, chickens, pigs, etc. Happy cows are not the product of industrialization, a process that feeds corn and grain and, yes, animal byproduct to fatten a cow more quickly than nature ever intended. That, my friends, is a food chain that is full of petrochemicals, of pesticides, of toxins that us humans consume as well. No, happy cows are grass-fed cows because that is what nature intended. (Or, as Alton Brown pointed out in a recent episode of "Good Eats," you never see cows grazing in a cornfield, do you? That's because it's NOT NATURAL!)

So off my soapbox....where was I? The meat. We made a trip about a week ago to a local cafe called Mikie's 7th that serves sandwiches using the grass-fed beef raised on a local farm called Shadowchase Farms. We picked up a few pounds of their pre-packaged, frozen beef after a delicious burger (seriously, grass-fed just tastes better, and is actually leaner in fat; more expensive, yes, but look at it this way: if you spend more, you're more likely to ration out the meat, thus eating less meat in the long run). So, the next part in the lasagna was the use of that beef, which I just seasoned with a bit (and I mean just a dash) of salt and pepper and browned over medium heat. I then added the homemade spaghetti sauce and used some extra tomato paste to thicken up the sauce as needed.

I boiled some lasagna noodles (again, something that came with a barcode, but I'm determined to cut out that middleman and learn to make my own pasta the next go-round), and started layering the meat sauce, noodles, and mozzarella cheese (okay, I don't know how good I would be at making mozzarella, but I tried to use the least-processed cheese I could find at the grocery store). I baked it all off at about 325 degrees until the cheese was a golden brown.

Lasagna, starring grass-fed beef.

Okay, I may turn this into a novel by the end of this, but next up was the classic "Breakfast for Dinner." Last night, after reading a particular passage in "The Omnivore's Dilemma" about the production of eggs that end up on the grocery store shelf, I promptly trashed half a dozen eggs that were purchased from Kroger because I could not possibly put in my mouth something obtained from so hideous a means (and yes, you could argue that those poor chickens lived their squalid lives in vain to give me eggs that I just threw away, and trust me, I had that internal dilemma, but I couldn't bring myself to eat them). I vowed to go get some fresh eggs that had a transparent story (that is, the lady at the produce stand could tell me from where the eggs came [the farm]). I started at the farmer's market, but they were fresh out of eggs. Instead, I came home from the farmer's market with some local cherry tomatoes, garlic bulbs, fresh farm butter, and cheese curds (yeah, I have no idea what to do with those, but they're quite tasty). I relied on the produce stand for my fruit for dinner and the fresh brown eggs.

So, the menu: French toast (using 7-grain sourdough bread purchased at a local bakery; and yes, that is another ingredient I am determined to learn to make from scratch), bacon (sadly, this was the stuff bought in the grocery store, and this time around, I couldn't bring myself to throw it out; next time, no bacon unless it's local), scrambled eggs and fresh fruit.

I started by making the French toast batter: three farm fresh eggs whisked with about 1 tablespoon of milk, cinnamon, a dash of nutmeg, and a dash of salt. I dunked the sliced sourdough into the batter and let it sit for a few minutes to absorb. Meanwhile, I sauteed the bacon until a slight golden brown and removed to drain on a paper towel. I poured out most of the bacon grease, saving just a bit for use in a few minutes. I preheated a grill for the French toast and whisked together another three eggs with a bit of milk, salt and pepper and poured them (over medium-low heat) into the skillet with the touch of bacon grease, stirring occasionally. I then grilled up the French toast and plated it all, serving it with the farm fresh butter, and voila!

There will be much more to come in later days as I get a better grasp on realizing the origins of our food and how to incorporate that into our meals. It's definitely a challenge to make a conscious effort to quit the Western diet, but I have to say: I've never felt better and more conscious of what it is I am eating, something to which we should all pay more attention before our healthcare costs and overall health skyrocket beyond control. Seriously, pay attention to what you eat; care about where it originates. It's worth your time.

Catching up. Again.

Damn, I'm way behind again. This month has passed too quickly.
So, instead of bogging this blog down with all of the dinners we've made the past, well, almost month, I'm going to hit the highlights. Which, for the most part, will be the entrees. If you want tips on the sides (which were pretty basic across the board), just send me a quick note.

So, first up: Chicken and Guacamole Tostadas.

Nothing too revolutionary here, but I'm getting drawn more and more to the simple yet flavorful. It's a basic principle in my favorite cuisine, Italian, but it can easily be implemented in any recipe. For this recipe, the simple guacamole was the standout. I like guacamole, but I'm not known to pig out on it. But this....this I could have eaten in bulk, with or without tortillas or tostadas. I did make a few basic changes to this recipe. First I cooked some split chicken breasts seasoned with salt, pepper, and smoked paprika because I am not the biggest fan of the rotisserie chicken in the grocery store. I'm not totally against it, so if that's all you have time to do, go for it. Secondly I omitted the cilantro, because I am one of "those people" who just do not like that herb. To me, it tastes like dish soap. Again, go for it if it's up your alley.

Next: Crunchy Lemonade Drumsticks.

This is perhaps the oddest mix of ingredients I've used in a while, but the results were tasty. I particularly liked this recipe because it had the texture of fried chicken without the unhealthy side effects of frying (instead, it's baked). If you're like me, you'll start making this recipe and, halfway through, will really start to think, "What the hell? This is going to be interesting." But stick it out to the end--it's worth it. I'm a big proponent of Panko, and while you don't necessarily think of an Asian-inspired ingredient meshing with the old standby of country-style chicken, it works. It works very well. My only issue was in the baking. In the original batch, I went with what was recommended in the recipe (baking the chicken on top of a rack placed on top of a baking sheet). It kind of worked, meaning one side turned out perfectly golden. The other side, even with the use of copious amounts of cooking spray, stuck to the rack and required the use of a pair of tongs to pull off and reassemble the skin. Which is not ideal. The second time around (which was the next day using a new batch of drumsticks and thighs) I decided to omit the use of a rack over the baking sheet and instead used a parchment-lined baking sheet. This worked only a tiny bit better. I was still pulling skin off of the sheet when I went to flip the meat. So, next time I make this, I may just be using a glass casserole dish, non-lined. We'll see how that goes.

Finally, Roasted Pepper Pasta.

The salad wanted center stage. But the pasta is in the background.

Again, this is a relatively simple recipe. I highly recommend roasting the peppers as instructed, as well as the garlic. Sure, you can buy both already processed and bottled in the grocery store, but where's the fun in that? (Plus, god y'all, I've gotten sucked into Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma, which has burrowed itself into my brain and is starting to affect all of my food choices and has made me question the "efficiency" of buying what is in the grocery store; I'm contemplating a completely separate blog to discuss this book. But I digress for now...) Go pick up some peppers from your local produce stand or farmer's market along with some garlic and roast it as suggested in the recipe. Seriously it only takes 8 minutes. Worth it.

Seriously, just roast the peppers and garlic. Don't cop out and use the jarred stuff. Be connected to what you eat!

Anyway, I omitted the almonds in this one (I had plenty of crunch from the roasted peppers) and also opted not to rinse the rigatoni after boiling because, I don't know, I always thought it was a sin to rinse off pasta and all of the good starches that keep the sauces sticking to the pasta. That's just me. You do what floats your boat. Overall, we found this a very light but flavorful pasta--definitely worth keeping in the recipe "index."

Oh, and just kidding about that pasta being the final recipe in this post. I'm going to throw in a dessert, something we rarely eat now (except for fresh fruit). I decided to make a granita, a very light, Italian-style dessert.

The first time in years we have used our martini glasses. Though doesn't "Mad Men" make it look ridiculously cool?

I used 2 c. of pomegranate juice (you can use whatever juice you like) in which I dissolved 1/3 c. sugar over medium heat (the mixture does not need to be boiled, just stirred frequently until the sugar is dissolved). Remove from heat and add 1/4 c. lime juice (this will produce a pleasant tartness and a very cool sheen effect). Pour the mixture into a glass casserole dish. Set in the freezer for about 5 hours total; every hour or hour and a half, pull the granita out of the freezer and run a fork through the mixture to break up the granita so it does not set into an ice block. I served these in chilled martini glasses. Simple, easy, and flavorful.

As mentioned, I plan to do a post about The Omnivore's Dilemma as soon as I can get my head wrapped around everything it teaches. It's a lot to digest, a lot to absorb. But I think for the better.

Double Feature: Eggplant and Pork

I'm running the risk of getting behind on posting again, so I'm going to knock two entrees out at one time.

First up: Filled Eggplant with Polenta
For a while now, I have been religiously reading Frances Mayes' books that focus on her time living in Tuscany (she's probably most noted for authoring "Under the Tuscan Sun" on which the movie starring Diane Lane was based). I used to find her writing engaging and something to which I could relate, not because I could shell out my life savings to just up and buy a villa in Tuscany in desperate need of repair, but because I am in love with all foods Italian. Especially, as I've come to find, the rustic food of Tuscans, something I hope to experience first-hand in just two short years. Her previous books were laced with Italian recipes, the result of her time spent with Tuscans and learning to cook with them. So, when I picked up her latest tome, "Every Day in Tuscany," I was looking forward to settling back in after several years with her authentic recipes. To make a long story short, I was disappointed by the almost condescending tone of Mayes' latest and managed to sift through the fluff to find the recipes. One stuck out, a filled eggplant, because we've been incorporating more and more eggplant into our diet since it is readily available in our big-chain grocery store.

This is a relatively simple recipe, a key to my fascination with Tuscan cuisine: making simple ingredients taste amazing by doing very little. To start, preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Then:

1. Cut one or two eggplants (depending on your serving size; one half easily feeds one person) in two lengthwise.
2. Being careful not to rip the skin (I found buying an extra eggplant worked well here because I could have a practice run, something I needed because I ripped the hell out of the first half), scoop out the seeds and the white part. I will tell you now that eggplant is not easily scooped--the "white part" is very stubborn and does not scoop as easily as, say, cantaloupe. After my trial run of ripped skin, I found it best to hold the eggplant half in my hand firmly, scoop out the majority of the seeds, then proceed to the fleshier part, almost mentally dividing the half into fourths and working on each section as gingerly as was possible. It's okay if there is some white flesh left--you'll be baking the eggplant, so you won't run the risk of consuming raw eggplant, something that should be avoided as the veggie contains toxins in its raw stage. Though it won't kill you, it's not the best thing to consume raw eggplant.
3. Chop the white part of the eggplant and set aside.
4. In a saute pan, heat 4 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil over medium-high heat.
5. Add one large onion, chopped, and saute until softened (approximately four minutes).
6. Add 4-5 garlic cloves, minced, and continue to saute for another two minutes (be careful not to overcook the garlic). 
7. Add the chopped eggplant, five chopped tomatoes (or a mixture of canned diced tomatoes, drained, and fresh tomatoes), 2 Tbsp. tomato paste, and salt and pepper to taste.
8. Cook the eggplant mixture for about 10 minutes.
9. Place the eggplant shells on a foil-lined baking sheet that has been lightly coated with extra-virgin olive oil.
10. Fill the shells with the eggplant mixture and sprinkle with 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese (I avoid the green-canned stuff and opt for the Parmesan wedge and grate what I need).
11. Bake for 20-25 minutes.

I served this with polenta (yes, of the tube variety, which you should be able to find in the grocery store; I always buy the plain, or original, flavor) topped with pancetta. Start by cooking the pancetta in a saute pan over medium heat until crispy (it will end up being the texture of crispy bacon). Remove the pancetta, crumble and set aside. Saute the polenta in the pancetta drippings (again over medium heat) until a golden brown on both sides. Another side: just your basic salad.

Next up: Greek-Style Pork Chops
So, just go here. I didn't make many adjustments on this other than a bit more salt to season the pork. I also cut some pitas to serve with the meal, brushed them with extra-virgin olive oil, sprinkled with salt, and grilled lightly after pulling the pork off the grill (just because I find grilled pita is much tastier than pitas served right out of the bag). Also, when you pull the pork out of the marinade, be sure to get the bits of garlic off of the meat or you'll most likely burn it when the pork is on the grill.