Black raspberry cream scones

I have a problem.  I am swimming in black raspberries.  I realize that, in the grand scheme of things, this is not the worst issue to be faced with, but still.  After living in this house for the better part of 12 years, I finally went bushwhacking behind my fence, and discovered what may be the most enormous patch of black raspberry bushes ever.  And guys?  This year is a GOOD year for black raspberries.  For the last week, I've been picking at least a quart a day, and I am rapidly running out of freezer space.  (To avoid a large blob of frozen berries, rinse them, lay them in a single layer on a cookie sheet, and freeze.  Once frozen, transfer to a freezer bag.  Ta dah!  Nicely frozen berries.)  I have been scouring my cookbooks, blogs and assorted magazine, now with an eye towards recipes that use as many berries as possible in one go.

Before you state the obvious, no, I don't make jam.  For one, I don't love standing over a pot of bubbling fruit on a steamy hot July day, and two, I had a bad experience with canning gone wrong a few years ago.  No one thinks a jar of strawberry flavored botulism is a good idea, so I've avoided jam making ever since.

This morning I had that most luxurious of things...an entire Sunday, free of responsibilities and "to do's".  With nothing hovering over my head, I decided that a lazy start to the day, coupled with scones, sounded just about ideal.  Plus, I could stuff berries in them!  Two birds, one stone.  I'm increasingly in love with Marion Cunningham's "The Breakfast Book" (I realize that I'm decades late in discovering this classic, but better late than never!), and flipped through that.  She had a recipe for dried fruit cream scones which looked simple enough, and malleable enough to adapt to my berry based needs.

What resulted was one of the easiest, quickest and tastiest breakfast treats I've made in ages.  With cream scones, there's no cutting in of cold butter, which I always find inexplicably daunting.  Heavy cream is both the fat and the liquid in this recipe, and the results are out of the oven in 20 minutes.  Theoretically, you should probably let them cool before snarfing them down like a bear after a long winter of hibernation.  I did not.  And they were awesome.

Black Raspberry Cream Scones
(Adapted from Marion Cunningham's, "The Breakfast Book")

Ingredients

         Scones

• 2 cups flour
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 3/4 cup frozen berry/fruit of your choice (Amount approximate; I'm pretty sure I jammed a cup in these.  If using larger berries or fruit, chop them to smallish pieces.  And while you could use fresh, I like using frozen here, as they hold their shape well.)
• 1 1/4 cups heavy cream (I used 1 cup heavy cream and 1/4 cup half and half, because that's what I had on hand, and it worked just fine.)

        Glaze

• 3 tablespoons butter, melted
• 2 tablespoons turbinado sugar (plain sugar would work, too)         

        Method:
   
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.  Line an ungreased cookie sheet with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper.

Combine the dry ingredients in a medium sized bowl, and stir with a fork until mixed well.  Still using a fork, drizzle in the cream, and stir into the dry ingredients.  The dough will be quite sticky.  At this point, add your frozen berries, and stir them into the dough.  They may resist; this is ok.  You will knead them into submission momentarily.

Turn the dough onto a lightly floured board, and knead 8-9 times, stuffing uncooperative berries into the dough as needed.  Pat the dough into a rough circle, approximately 10 inches in diameter.  

  

Brush the whole thing with melted butter (getting the sides as much as possible, too), and sprinkle generously with turbinado sugar.  Now here's where you need to decide something critical...do you want small, dainty, reasonably sized scones, or do you want scones that take over your entire small plate?  I opted for enormous scones, so cut the dough like a pizza into 8 wedges.  You can go smaller, certainly, and get 12 out of this dough.  If so, reduce the baking time, and watch them closely. 

Place the scones on your prepared baking sheet, leaving one inch of space between them. 

Bake for approximately 20 minutes, or until golden brown.

Ideally, allow to cool before inhaling, but that's optional.

Shortcut Hollandaise

  I will freely admit that I have a couple of arbitrary food phobias.  Not in the eating department, particularly, but in the creating department. 
  While a whole pineapples makes me nervous (it has armor, for crying out loud), I've come to grips with it.  Largely by having the store core and peel it, but that still counts!  However, two things have consistently struck fear in my culinary heart.  Phyllo pastry is one of them (All those delicate sheets!  That have to remain covered with a damp towel!  At ALL times!  And brush them with melted butter!  Right now!).  Who needs that kind of pressure from pastry? 
  The other is Hollandaise sauce.  Growing up, my mom made it often, and it was hands down my favorite way to consume green vegetables of virtually all sorts.  Broccoli was a good one, but fresh from the garden asparagus was far and away the best.  And, being my mom, she whipped it up with no more stress or fuss than you or I might exert, say, pouring a bowl of cereal.  In the past several years, when we've had a chance to be in the kitchen together, she has given me a demo innumerable times.  And yet I've never, before today, tried to actually make it myself. 
  I had a lovely bunch of fresh asparagus from the farmer's market that needed to be used soon, and, in a fit of wild bravery, decided that it was time to conquer the fear of Hollandaise.  There is, however, something about my mom's double boiler technique that somehow seemed a bit more "mad scientist" than I was willing to tackle, so I dug through my cookbooks until I found Ina Garten's recipe, which requires only a blender, and some melted better.  And guys?  SO EASY.  I feel like the biggest asshat in all the land for not having done this before.  There are no tricks.  It's not hard.  It takes less than five minutes.  And I happily ate pretty much the whole batch, dipping spear after spear of lightly steamed asparagus into it. 

Shortcut Hollandaise Sauce

(From Ina Garten, "Barefoot Contessa; Foolproof")

 2 large eggs, at room temperature**
1 1/2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
pinch of cayenne pepper
6 tablespoons unsalted butter


**If, like me, you aren't the best advance planner, and your eggs are in the fridge, there's a quick fix.  Pop them in a bowl full of hot tap water for a couple of minutes, and they'll warm right up and be ready to use.

•  For planning purposes, before you start this, get your veggie of choice prepped and underway.  I blanched some fresh asparagus, and tossed it in the simmering water just before I started this. The timing was perfect.
• Put the egg yolks, lemon juice, salt, pepper and cayenne in the blender, and blend on low for 15 seconds.  Melt the butter in a small saucepan until it is VERY hot.  Remove the insert of the blender lid, and with the blender on low, very carefully pour the hot butter into the blender with the lemon mixture.  (Have a towel nearby...hot butter splatters are a hazard.).  Blend for 30 seconds, until the mixture is very thick.  
• Serve immediately.

(Ina's side note states that while best used immediately, if made ahead, you can add a tablespoon of very hot water, and blend it again, and it will be fine.  I would have tested this for you, but, umm...there's none left to try.  Next time.)

  And that's it!  Seriously!  It's fantastic, and I'm kicking myself for all those Hollandaise-less years I unnecessarily inflicted upon myself.  Don't be like me.

Slow Cooker Lasagna

  My favorite lasagna recipe of all time comes from a stain-splattered copy of Canadian Living's "Country Cooking" cookbook, and it is a masterpiece.  It's loaded with spicy Italian sausage and red peppers in the sauce and oodles of spinach in the unctuous bechamel.  Obscene quantities of cheese are a given.  It is delicious beyond words, and a guaranteed crowd pleaser.  However...it creates a mountain of dishes that would daunt the most enthusiastic of dishwashers (of which I am not one).  A pot for the noodles.  A pot for the tomato sauce.  Another for the bechamel.  And on and on.  Sadly, this is often a disincentive, and I opt to make something else rather than be forced to participate in my own ad for dish soap.

  Cue angelic chorus, friends, because an easier way has been discovered!  One large pot is all that's needed, and your Crock Pot.  Yes, you can (and should!) make lasagna in your Crock Pot.  I was as dubious as the next person, but have been converted.  And like most new converts, I will not rest until you, too, have experienced the same joy.

  I used a few recipes initially as jumping off points, and after a few attempts, have settled on a combination that exactly replicates the flavors of my favorite labor intensive dish.  This is a very adaptable recipe, and feel free to play around.  I used spinach, lasagna and red peppers, because that's what I love best.  If you're vegetarian, maybe a mushroom version would be up your alley, or eggplant (saute both prior to popping them in).  Ground beef, turkey or pork would all work well, too.  More veggies, different ones, whatever blows your skirt up!

  You can do this either on HIGH for 3 hours, or LOW for 6.  Either way works well (I've tried both), just factor into your planning that whichever you choose, you'll need to let the lasagna sit in the Crock Pot, covered, for an hour after it's done cooking.  This gives the sauce a chance to settle in, and prevents you from having a tasty, if sloppy, bowl of lasagna soup.

  It is a great thing to make when you wake up to see this...

 ...and realize that nope, you are NOT going to work, or anywhere else for that matter, for some time.

  Ingredients:

• (2) 24 ounce jars or cans of Italian tomato sauce
• 9 thick lasagna noodles with wavy edges (NOT "oven ready")
• 24 ounces part-skim ricotta cheese OR cottage cheese
• 1 lb hot Italian sausage
• 2 boxes of frozen chopped spinach, thawed and drained
• 1 large red pepper, seeded and diced
• 2 cups shredded Mozzarella or Provolone cheese
• Parmesan cheese for topping

 Method:

• Spray your Crock Pot with non-stick spray.
• In a large saute pan, cook the sausage until it begins to brown and break up, then add your diced red pepper.  Continue cooking until the sausage is fully cooked, and the peppers are tender.  Add your jars of tomato sauce, and stir until combined and warmed through.
• In the Crock Pot, put a thin layer of tomato sauce on the bottom of the pot (to keep things from sticking).  
• Now start layering!  Break your lasagna noodles into halves (ball park, it's not at all necessary to be fussy) and place them in the Crock Pot in a single layer.  Cover the space the best you can, but don't sweat any gaps.  Dollop large spoonfuls of ricotta (1/3 of your container) over the noodles, and gently spread it evenly over the noodles.  On top of this, evenly distribute 1/3 of your spinach.  Next, pour or ladle 1/3 of your sauce on top of the spinach.  Sprinkle 1/3 of your shredded Mozzarella over the sauce.  Add another layer of noodles, and repeat for two more layers.  In the end, you will have three complete layers, ending with noodles.  Pour a thin layer of sauce over the top layer of noodles, and sprinkle on a handful of Parmesan.
• Cover and cook on HIGH for 3 hours, or LOW for 5-6 hours.  At the end of the cooking time, turn the Crock Pot off, and let it sit for one hour prior to serving.  It will be a bit loose, but not soupy, and by the next day, will be completely firm.  

Note: This will result in a cheesy, gooey, lasagna, which is my preference.  If you covet the crunchy edges, however, popping the whole thing under the broiler (please make sure your Crock Pot can withstand this, first!) for a few minutes would brown and crisp the top up nicely.

Serves 6+, generously.

Potato Broccoli Blue Cheese Soup

  Ahhh...early September in upstate NY.  Weather-wise, it's a total crap shoot, and can be almost 90 degrees F in the day, only to plunge to just above freezing the next night.  It makes sartorial decisions tricky, and requires the ability to add/remove layers of clothing at a moment's notice.  Bring sweaters and/or sandals to just about everything.
   I can handle the vagaries of weather when it comes to my wardrobe with a certain amount of aplomb, but as someone who cooks largely based on weather (and, let's be honest, how many dishes I feel like doing.  Hello, cereal over the sink!), it can be infuriating.  Do I get ingredients for a salad at the farmer's market on Saturday, hoping for warm weather, only to be staring resentfully at a crisper full of vegetables while yearning for a warm braise on a cold day?  I realize that in relation to world issues, this does not leap to the forefront, but still.  A girl likes to plan.  Especially if that girl is a bit Type A.  Not that anyone here would fit that profile. 
  Since today was the designated day to fetch groceries, and the weather for the next 24 hours could reasonably be predicted (cool and autumnal...yay!), I could happily cook accordingly.  And for me, nothing says fall like a big pot of soup of some sort.  One pot, minimal dishes, and a divine smelling house?  I'm in.  And since I had a bag of potatoes verging on the iffy side of edible, potato soup of some sort was in order. 
  Broccoli and cheese soups of many stripes are common as dirt, and in my experience, inevitably a bit disappointing.  Bland in flavor, odd in color, etc.  A few years ago, I found a recipe that took the typical archetype and made it, you know...good.  Potatoes added for richness, and instead of cheddar, a healthy amount of blue cheese for tang and depth.  Some white wine and garlic, and it's a home run.  This is a relatively light soup, which is ideal for dinner with some toasted bread and perhaps a salad.  Or three bowls in succession, and you can call it a day.  I chose option B. Burp. 

Potato Broccoli Blue Cheese Soup

Ingredients 

2 tbsp olive oil
2 potatoes, peeled and diced
1 onion, peeled and diced
3 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
1/2 lb (approx) broccoli florets, coarsely chopped
2 cups crumbled blue cheese
1 32 oz box chicken or vegetable stock
1/2 cup dry white wine
2/3 cup half and half
pinch of paprika
salt and pepper (to taste)
chopped chives (optional)

• In a large soup pot or Dutch oven, heat oil over medium heat.  Add onions, potatoes and garlic, stirring constantly, for about five minutes, or until onions are fragrant and translucent.  (If you don't stir often, the potatoes will stick to the pot like mad.  You've been warned.)
• Add the broccoli, stock, wine and blue cheese to the pot.  
• Bring to a boil, then reduce heat, cover and simmer for about 30 minutes, or until potatoes and broccoli are fairly tender.  
• For smoothest texture, puree the soup in 2 batches in a blender.  Alternately, you can use an immersion blender, which will yield chunkier results. 
•  If using a blender, pour the now pureed contents back into the soup pot.  Add the half and half, paprika, and salt and pepper.  Heat gently over low heat until warmed through.
• Add some chopped chives on top if you're feeling fancy.
• Serve hot.

4 hearty servings

Chocolate pots de creme

  I have a known disorder, of which I am well aware.  I am a cookbook whore, to put not too fine a point on it.  Gorgeous food photography?  I'm in!  Witty and helpful recipe introductions?  Better than a novel!  I've been known to read a cookbook cover to cover on more than one occasion. (Dorie Greenspan's books all read so beautifully and fluidly, I dare you to NOT get sucked in!)

  I will not confess to the number currently residing on bookshelves at my house, but suffice it to say that I am awash in choices when it comes to making a meal.  This doesn't mean that when I'm about to have people over for dinner I don't stare blankly around, shrieking, "I have nothing to MAKE!", though.  I have similar issues with clothes and shoes.  Likely these will all appear when the DSM V is published, and I will be able to follow an approved treatment protocol. 

  What I'm getting at here is that there are often many recipes for the same basic dish, with tweaks, flourishes and alterations that make them unique, while still remaining, oh, a roast chicken, or chocolate cake.  (When restaurants go bonkers about this sort of thing is when you start seeing menu items like Cassis Infused Dark Chocolate Torte with Blackberry Coulis and House Made Vanilla Bean Semifreddo.  That's when you should just leave, as the pretension is going to be expensive.)  In the multitudes of cookbooks that loll about my house, there are, at bare minimum, six different recipes for chocolate pots de creme.  Which, as it's Bastille Day and I'm feeling very French, means little chocolate cream pots.  And they are all, I'm sure, unctuous and luscious and divine.  However, each one is, to be blunt, a raging pain in the ass to make.  Double boilers are involved.  Baine maries are necessary.  (Hot water baths in which to bake things, which I inevitably dump all over the floor.  This results in a very clean floor and some not insignificant scalding.  You win some, you lose some.)  But pots de cremes are so lovely that you suffer through these things in order to present them to your duly dazzled dinner guests.

  However, I am here to tell you that there is a way, a very secret way, to make this the easiest dessert in your repertoire.  Easier than brownies from a box.  Easier than going out and buying a pie.  Slightly more complex than handing people Fudgsicles, but only just.  If you own one small pot and a blender, you're in.  And the ingredients are ones you can get at 7-11, if you must.  This recipe comes to me from my mother, by way of her mother, so is a fine family tradition.  I've played with it a very tiny bit, but just because I'm always looking for a way to include booze in everything (except Cheerios.  I think that would be problematic and career limiting.).  One of my culinary rules is that if a recipe involving chocolate also calls for vanilla extract, use bourbon instead.  This is good for two reasons; bourbon and chocolate are an incredible team, and it's a good way to use that godawful Jim Beam you have kicking around.  Drum roll, please...

Chocolate pots de Creme

Ingredients:

1 tsp vanilla extract (Or bourbon.  Draw inspiration from your liquor cabinet...there is likely something in there that will be delicious with chocolate.  Kahlua!  Grand Marnier! Amaretto!  Go nuts.)
1 egg
1 cup semisweet or bittersweet chocolate chips
2 tbsp sugar
3/4 cup milk, heated to just below boiling.

Method:

Put all ingredients in blender at once, and blend on low speed for one minute, or until smooth and slightly frothy.  Divide liquid equally between four ramekins/custard cups.  Chill several hours before serving.  Top with whipped cream, fresh fruit, more booze, etc, etc.

*Caution*
Due to the presence of a raw egg, do NOT double this recipe.  It is the heat of the scalded milk that renders the egg safely "cooked".  If you need more than 4 servings, just repeat the process.

Serves 4

See!  How easy was that!    
 

We'll focus on my failures shortly...

...but tonight, I am sick and congested (call 911!), deeply whiny and just in general a delight to have around. So, while you are due an update on the budget project, and it is coming forthwith, it won't be tonight. Tonight I made this:



In case it's not immediately obvious, it's homemade chicken noodle soup and buttermilk biscuits, both of which are awfully easy to make, and make one feel like death may not be lurking around the next corner.

There's no real recipe for chicken noodle soup in my book, really. I just sweat a couple of onions, some celery and carrots until tender (or teetering towards brown, as someone got too involved in playing Words for Friends...damn you, iPhone!), dump in a quart of stock, a quart of water, some shredded chicken from the failure of a beer-can grilled chicken I attempted this weekend, and let it go for about 20 minutes on a low simmer. Salt and pepper, and if you've got some handy, toss in some shredded Swiss Chard and parsley, and some egg noodles. Continue to simmer until the noodles are the consistency you covet in your soup. Some want mushy, I lean towards a bit more toothsome.

I have to rein myself in when I make this, as the over-the-top foodie in me wants to add wild and crazy dollops and flourishes. Self, I say sternly, that is NOT what chicken noodle soup is for. It is for gentle eating on a tender tummy, or a bowl of comfort when a combination of congestion and fatigue sneak up on you. Step away from the micro-greens and creme fraiche, woman, and calm right the hell down! Now is not the time.

And then you open a cookbook and make some biscuits. I am FAR too ill to type up what I made here now (did you not hear me when I said I was congested?? I need professional medical attention, or at least some tea.), but believe me when I tell you that delightful biscuit recipes abound, and if you pester me, I'll write mine up later when I'm less booger-y.

Now that you've done all that (and taken a semi-arty photo of it, to boot), eat the stuff, read a few chapters of a novel, and then go stuff yourself into bed with a lot of Kleenex and a heaping dose of self pity. Bourbon here is optional, but recommended.

Strawberries and Scapes...early summer!

This past week has officially been a frigging ZOO. While I'm fairly used to running full tilt from job, to home, to job and so on, adding onto that routine trying to squeeze in contractors stomping through the house for estimates and a disaster recovery team ripping out my upstairs has made me a bit bug eyed. On the plus side, my house no longer has that delightful "molding Sheetrock/wet insulation" smell so sought after by home owners. However, for the past 4 days my house has been filled with more than a half dozen industrial fans on every floor in the house, slowly (and loudly. Oh, so very loudly.), drying out my walls, floors and ceilings. It's a bit like an airport with planes taking off...all bloody day and night. Very soothing.

Anyhoo...at least things are moving along towards having a livable home again, which can only be a good thing. And I have indeed been trucking along faithfully with the Food Stamp budget. Some notable inclusions towards that end have been making a ludicrous amount of pesto, thanks to being given a huge bag of garlic scapes, and stuffing my freezer full of more fresh picked strawberries than any one person could possibly need. I baked a few of them into this wonderful strawberry cake (so easy, and so, so yummy), ate a LOT of them, and froze the remaining 8 lbs. And yes, I do pick fruit like I'm an Amish mother of 8, thank you for noticing. Just wait for cherry season...I tend to come home with upwards of 12 lbs of the things. Thank goodness I've got a table top cherry pitter.

Wondering what the heck garlic scapes are and what to do with them? Here's the exact recipe I used to make the most wonderful, bright, garlicky pesto. I made one batch of straight scape pesto, and another which was about 50/50 scape and kale. Both are fantastic, and I am thrilled to see them stacked in my freezer, where they will be a welcome taste of early summer all year. I also planted about a half dozen basil plants in my little garden, so there's a good chance I'll have a total pesto tasting explosion in my freezer this year! In addition to tossing the stuff with pasta, I recently discovered that smearing some under the skin of a chicken prior to roasting makes for a nice change to a staple dinner.





...mmm...scapes!

As the month progresses, my $200 budget is dwindling alarmingly quickly. Necessary staples have begun to wane, and have needed to be replaced, which hits the budget harder than expected. Prior to hitting the Farmer's Market yesterday, I checked where things stood financially, and gulped. It was the 18th of the month, just barely over halfway through, and I had just slightly over $50 remaining. Admittedly, I do have that weekly influx of veggies from my CSA share, but still. Gulp. I bypassed the bakery stand at the market, and walked wistfully by the cheese guys. No way was any of that happening at this point, which made me far sadder than perhaps it should have. It also meant that when I got home, I set about baking some bread for the upcoming week. I opted for a very straightforward whole wheat bread from a Williams-Sonoma cookbook, to which I added some molasses for depth and interest. It turned out quite nicely, and one loaf will get frozen for next week. You could doubtless get bread very cheaply from the grocery store, but I deeply loathe the cheap stuff, with it's utter lack of both flavor and nutrition, and since the wonderful artisanal sourdough I favor was out of wallet's reach, it was best to just make my own.



I'd promised a friend that I'd make his favorite spinach and sausage lasagna this week, which is the epitome of great cheesy pastas, but not terribly economical to make. It does make an enormous amount, though, so it should, with supplements from the farmer's market and such, last pretty much the whole week.

With this week's grocery purchases, we are now at...

Balance: $22.67

This is a frighteningly small amount of money to get through the remainder of the month with, and I'm a bit tense about it.

I'm also kicking around the idea of continuing this project on a bit longer than one month, to see what sorts of patterns and habits might become more helpful to me in the longer run.


Meanwhile, with my house in utter chaos, I've been retiring to my yard a lot these days, with a book and the dogs for some much needed quiet. If anyone has a tent to loan me, I think I'd rather sleep out here for the foreseeable future.

Mother Nature? You're kind of a bitch.

I'm going to apologize in advance for what is quite sure to be a profanity laden post. Turn back now, oh ye of delicate sensibilities, for we are heading straight into F-bomb land.

This week was supposed to be a continuation of my food challenge, with some scrimping to fit in a Five Guys visit, and perhaps a soup or two. Well, the trip to Five Guys happened, and was a delicious grease-fest, as anticipated. However, upon my return home from that little jaunt, I pulled into my driveway and saw this:




In case it's not clear, that's the neighboring property's fence, which normally resides in an upright position on the perimeter of my yard. Stepping into my back yard, my Adirondack chairs (solid wood) were tossed to the other side of the lawn. And the laundry that I'd hung on the line to dry during the heat of the day? Was fucking EVERYWHERE. T-shirts were strewn along the driveway. Towels decorated the fence. Work shirts on top of the garage. And the rest? Mostly in trees, upwards of 30' in the air.




Oh yes, and the majority of my roof shingles were scattered throughout the yard, road, and god knows where else. Apparently, we'd had quite the gale while I was gone.

The next day was spent hauling the downed branches to the end of the driveway for pickup, and making multiple calls to my insurance company. Also? A trip to my next door neighbors to see how they'd fared. Bear in mind, I've lived here for 8+ years, and have met my neighbors approximately....one time. They're very nice people, from what I can tell, I'm just a bit of a recluse, and keep to myself when at home. After touring their yard, and the downed 40' catalpa tree, they asked if I needed help with anything. And I did, as fetching my laundry out of trees was stymieing me. So my poor neighbor got his surveyor's pole and proceeded to pick clothes out of trees. Including my...undergarments. There's nothing that bonds strangers quite like handing them their muddy, storm-tossed panties. And not at ALL awkward.

But the epic continues, as not a single roofer in the area could come to tarp my roof until...this morning. In the ensuing days, we got a LOT of rain. Which, when you basically have no roof, leads to a bit of water damage. Much like this:






So, that's a long way of saying that the food part of my life got a bit sidelined, what with my bedroom turning into a FEMA site. I haven't deviated from the project, but have definitely been on autopilot. For those wondering where I stand, financially, with my burger trip, I'm now at:

Balance: $121.15.

And yes, I'm carrying on with the project. Because real life happens, regardless of budget, and with heaven only knows what kinds of upcoming expenses, maintaining a tight food budget is a damn good idea. I foresee a big pot of soup this weekend, as I'm in a bit of a funk (can't imagine why), it's pissing down rain, and I was given a chunk of ham, complete with bone, by a coworker.

But truly...this fucking SUCKS. Guess the dogs and I are sleeping downstairs for a while.

Can green be (economically) lean?

I'm beginning to think that this little undertaking might end up being good for the waistline, as well as for the wallet. Where I would normally tend to snack mindlessly, or grab bits of this or that without a thought, I'm now so focused on every dime that I am NOT eating anything unplanned. At over $3 a go, there will be no ham, egg and cheese sandwiches from the local bagel shop on the way to work. Not to say that cheap, unhealthy choices don't abound, because they sure as hell do, but I'm currently trending more towards whole food items made quite simply. In an effort to do a little advance planning for the week ahead, I've got a pan of beans and greens working on the stove (kale, some hot Italian sausage, cannelini beans...love it!), and a couple sweet potatoes baking in the oven (easy to turn into a hearty lunch with some salsa and black beans).

It's not escaping me, either, that this is pushing me towards eating as the Gospel According to Michael Pollan (of "The Omnivore's Dilemma" fame) would encourage us to. Lots of whole foods, with a focus on vegetables and fruits, sourced locally when possible, and supplemented in small doses by meats. There's no doubt that I live in an area where agriculture flourishes to an almost ridiculous degree. If one lives in, say, Manitoba (Hi, Mum and Da!), you're going to have different constraints. To that I would say you have to get to know what thrives in your area, and make the most of it. My folks up north have abundant, cheap sources of meat and fish, and no one in the world is a more vigorous preserver of garden produce than my mother. And when your growing season is about 3 minutes long, that takes far more planning and skill than I possess!

As many aspects of our lives become curtailed by rising gas prices, it can't help but to be reflected in our food costs as well. The further things travel, and the more climate controlled they must be to arrive "fresh" at their destinations, the higher their accompanying price tags must be as well. Where local foods from farmer's markets have often been thought of as more costly in comparison to their mass produced and shipped grocery store brethren, they not only more honestly reflect the cost of food production, but are becoming competitive with similar items shipped from afar. With the tremendous social, environmental and dietary benefits that can result from sourcing one's diet close to home, I am increasingly hopeful that doing so can be accessible to all parts of a community, not merely the affluent and well-intentioned.

In related local food news, Hudson appears to be on the verge of beginning a food co-0p! While it appears to still be in the rough planning stages, I love the heart of the idea. And as Hudson proper lacks an actual grocery store (city residents have to wend their way out to Greenport for actual grocery stores, which, to the many people with no vehicles, means either a pricey cab ride or a long slog), so to have something like this right in the heart of the city could be a tremendous asset. I do worry that prices may be prohibitive, but hope that there will be ample promotion of affordability via member participation that it could be accessible to everyone. Definitely something to look forward to and support!

Ok, that's enough proselytizing for now. Plus, I'm hungry and dinner's ready, so I'm going to go stuff my face. For those of you keeping track at home, we are now looking at...

Today's groceries of $13.99 and 2 slices of cheese pizza at $3.78, which brings us to...

Balance: $128.59

It's not all Ramen over here....

Sigh...I had such big plans for high productivity today. In my idealized world, I would have created a carefully planned grocery list, planned a week's worth of meals, done all my weekend errands and cured some tropical disease. There are weekends when this actually happens, and I am a machine of efficiency. (Well, my progress with tropical illness is slow, but I'm a geologist by training, so I'm guessing the learning curve is steep.) That so did NOT happen today. It's been an emotionally stressful week, which likely didn't help, but I'm willing to bet that neither did playing Spades until 4 am, either. Oh well...too tears in a bucket, and all that.

I did manage to drag my ass to the Farmer's Market this morning, although not at my normal bright and early hour. I was vaguely hopeful that arriving so late would make my chocolate croissant lust moot, as they tend to sell out by 10 am, but no such luck. And, as I have no will power whatsoever, I had to get one. (Thank you, France, for creating breakfast pastries so delightfully buttery, light, and filled with chocolate...I owe you one.) My big bag o' wonders from my CSA got picked up, too, and as the photo above demonstrates, I'll be well supplied with greenery this week! I'm a bit alarmed at the sheer volume of lettuce that needs to be consumed, but a friend recently mentioned a southern recipe for wilted lettuce that involves hot bacon grease, and well...hell yes, I need to try that!

All the veggies pictured are part of my weekly share, so the only items I purchased outright today were a wedge of cheese and the aforementioned croissant. I'm still working my way through a lot of pre-experiment supplies, so I don't feel that I'm fully in the groove of the budget yet. As those things dwindle, though, we'll see how I fare.

I guess I'll have to do some planning and shopping tomorrow, as I hereby officially declare today a wash, and plan to retire to the couch with a movie and version 2.0 of my afternoon nap. Let's hope that for the sake of productivity I don't get roped into any more late night card games.

So, with today's market treats and some curry chicken from the Chinese take-out near work last night (all told, $11.81), we are now at:

Balance: $146.36

Also, as you can see, I'm having a hell of a time with the photo part of this blog. Since my computer went to be with Jesus and got re-built, I lost my old photo software, which I at least sort of knew how to work. So, bear with my wildly sized photos for a bit until I figure the new stuff out, please!

Mostly Math

I figured I'd better work out the monthly amount my CSA share from these fine folks is running me, so I can budget accordingly. As I'm splitting my share with a friend this season, the breakdown for me ends up at $37.60/month. Not bad at all, considering that this will keep me awash in abundant greens all summer, plus berries and veggies as the growing season progresses.

My Saturday morning forays to the Farmer's Market in town are one of the utter highlights of my week. Hudson's a small town, so familiar faces (and often, their accompanying canine companions) abound, and live music and people watching (oh, NYC weekenders, how you amuse me!) are ample entertainment while hemming and hawing about the cheese o' the week. I won't lie, however...I'm a bit anxious that my Saturday morning chocolate croissant is a luxury I might not be able to afford, and that would veer towards tragedy. We'll have to see how it goes.

So, with a couple of small items purchased today, and incorporating the CSA costs, we are at....

Balance: $158.17

Day 1-Burger Resistance

Well, to much fan fare and rolling out of red carpets, today marks the first day of my challenge to feed myself (hopefully well) on the federally mandated $200/month budget for a single individual. To be honest, it's been a very easy first day, as I'm still working through a lot of leftovers from the long weekend, and had actual time to cook this evening.

The only potential trip-up came when I went to my eye appointment today, which is dangerously located very near a Five Guys Burgers & Fries. To those unfamiliar, it's the Eastern Seaboard's Holy Grail of kick ass burgers, and the most ridiculously delicious fries ever. Needless to say, I love them, and I could SMELL the charred greasy goodness as I drove by. However, as a burger and fries tends to come in around the $10 mark, I didn't want to play that free and loose with my budget right out of the gate. I do have to return for a recheck appointment next week...I think some penny pinching will have to be put in place to make a bacon-y splurge possible.

With an eye towards planning for the next couple of days, I made a big batch of a pasta dish with some leftover grilled chicken and asparagus from the farmer's market.

And of course it's now June, which means that strawberries are imminent, and pick your own places abound very near my house. If one is willing to spend an hour picking, you can get a LOT of strawberries for very little money. I tend to pick fruit like I'm an Amish mother of 8 (12 lbs of cherries? Of course I need them! What the hell for, I'm not quite sure, but I must pick them.), so I happily foresee a lot of berries in my near future.

And there ends Day 1.

Balance: $200

Praise Cheeses! Post-Rapture Pasta.

The blinders have been lifted from eyes, y'all! I am HEALED! It's a frigging post-Rapture miracle! (Clearly, my atheist views have me Left Behind. Well...yay! More cheese for me.) Anyway...I have forever been...challenged, in the area of making Smack Your Mama Good Mac and Cheese. And I am no more...praise Cheeses!

For literally years I've sought the mac and cheese holy grail, and come up with a myriad of results. Some sort of tasty and serviceable, others frighteningly oily, or oddly gritty, or just...not what I wanted. Because I have a very firm idea of what the perfect mac and cheese is, and it has been eluding me all this time. No matter what types of cheese I tried, fat free or whole fat milk, warmer or cooler cooking temperatures, they all fell flat. In my mind's eye, it was unctuously creamy and thick, an even sauce, noodles with just the right amount of toothesomeness (we're going to go with that being a word, ok?) and of course, a high ratio of crusty topping. Bubbling, golden, dairy-laced heaven.

Cue heavenly chorus, kids, because in March of this year, Bon Appetit's latest issue came in my mailbox. One look at the front cover, and I started to feel illicitly hopeful. For there was a mighty fine looking mac and cheese on the cover, and my faith in my own abilities was flagging. I'm no food porn newbie, though...I'm not easily lured in by just a sexy picture with strings of melted cheese. Well, yes, I am, but whatever. So I scanned the ingredient list, hit the grocery store (what the HELL are Peppadew peppers? Oh well...roasted red peppers would have to do.), and set to.

Now, I'm no novice in making white sauces and baked pastas...I can make a basic bechamel with the best of them. So I was blithely following along with the recipe, and waiting for it to inevitably say..."melt 1/2 cup butter, stir in 1/2 cup flour...add 4 cups milk". And it NEVER SAID THAT. Anywhere. And on closer examination, there was no milk to be found in the whole recipe. WTF? What kind of wonky mac and cheese was this? Sure, it was labelled Pimiento Mac and Cheese, so I expected some tweaks, but no milk? Was this a misprint? Did I need to pen an irate letter? (I come from a long line of irate letter writers...this would not be a problem.) "Bugger it", I thought, and decided to just carry on. Worst case scenario, I could make peanut butter toast.

There was more weirdness yet to come...dumping a bunch of peppers and cheese in a blender? And that was the sauce? Oh well. I bunged the neon orange mess into the oven (that many red peppers yield a shade of orange more commonly found on Sesame Street characters) and waited. And what came out was....heaven. Some magic happened in that blender that yielded the sauce I'd been lusting after all these years. Texture? Spot on. Flavor? Complexity with the peppers, yet familiar and soothing with the cheese. Crunch topping? You bet your butter-rubbed Panko bread crumbs!

And since I'm sure there are others out there who have stared forlornly at a casserole of disappointing mac and cheese, I happily share this discovery, and urge you to make it pronto!

Pimiento Mac and Cheese
(adapted from Bon Appetit, March 2011)

Ingredients:

1 red pepper, seeded and cut into 1" chunks
1 garlic clove, peeled
1/2 cup Panko (Japanese breadcrumbs)
3 tbsp unsalted butter at room temp, divided
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan
3/4 cup drained Peppadew peppers in brine (I have no clue what those are...I used most of a jar of roasted red peppers and their brine)
1/4 tsp chile powder
1 1/4 cups grated sharp cheddar cheese
1 cup grated mozzarella
8 ounces medium shell pasta

• Bring 1/2 cup water, bell pepper, and garlic clove to boil in saucepan. Cover; reduce heat to medium-low. Simmer until pepper is soft, about 15 minutes.
• Toast panko in skillet over medium-high heat until golden, stirring often, about 5 minutes.
• Transfer crumbs to a bowl, and let cool to lukewarm. Rub 1 tbsp butter into crumbs to coat. Mix in 1/4 cup of Parmesan.
• Transfer bell pepper mixture to blender. Add jarred peppers and 1 tbsp of their brine, 2 tbsp of butter and chile powder. Add cheddar and 1/4 cup Parmesan. Blend until sauce is smooth, season to taste with salt and pepper.
  
• Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Butter 8-cup baking dish.
  
• Cook pasta in boiling salted water until al dente (8 minutes or so, depending on size and shape of pasta). Drain.
  
• Pour drained pasta into prepared baking dish. Add mozzarella, and pour sauce over whole mess. Stir until well combined. Admire astonishing color.
  
• Top with buttered bread crumbs.
• Bake until pasta is bubbling like a bright orange volcano and the bread crumbs are golden, about 25 minutes.
  
• Set it on the counter and let it cool about 15 minutes. (You'll regret skipping this step. Burning all the skin off the roof of your mouth with melted cheese is No Fun.)

Makes 4 generous servings.

I can die happy now. Although since I missed the Rapture, I guess I'll have to stick around a bit longer.

Ironing out the details...

So, kids, I've committed to a start date for this little undertaking of mine. I'll be taking the plunge on June 1st, with the idea of keeping ALL of my food intake within the $200 budget that the federal government allots its Food Stamp recipients. I've decided to include any meals out, snacks grabbed on the fly, and generally, any comestible that passes my lips. I will, of course, make use of anything that currently exists on my shelves, in the pantry, or in the abandoned tundra that is my freezer. And no, I will NOT be stockpiling before the start date with freeze dried truffles and extra tins of escargot, just so I don't have to go without. The idea is to be as authentic in the experience as possible, and not create any contrived environment, be it towards greater or less extravagance.

I'm going to be as full disclosure as possible (without veering towards deadening tedium, one hopes) in the incurred expenses and experiences. I intend to share any good tips and recipes that may emerge, and, of course, any disasters and failures.

There are a couple of things that worry me from the outset... I'm vaguely terrified that I'll be stuck eating WAY more legumes than I'd like to (the Bean Soup Nightmare is becoming a new and recurring event). One of the biggest obstacles I face in decent eating now, even prior to this experiment, is time. Or, rather, a total lack thereof. I'm still working two jobs, and most days am at work from 7 am to 9 pm. I do manage to get home briefly for lunch and before heading to my other job at night, but time to prepare meals is in seriously short supply.

I do NOT want this to turn into a Ramen-palooza, or get caught up in cheap, fast prepared foods. Healthy, fresh food is very important to me, and I'm hell bent on keeping that front and center. Beginning next weekend, I'll be starting my summer CSA share, which I'm splitting with a friend. This is my third summer participating in this, and I love it. It allows me to embrace local, fresh produce and to find creative uses for the bales of kale I inevitably end up with. I am going to prorate my expense for the share, and incorporate that into the $200/month as well. As this is also a resource readily available in my community, I want to actively use this resource, and see how well it can merge with the constraints of the budget.

So...with a start date in the not-so distant future, please cross your fingers for me! And feel free to send me suggestions, critiques, questions, and so on. I have no doubt that this project will evolve, and I want input!

A Challenge and a Budget...

So, for the past 6 months or so, I've been working in Social Services, and coming face to face with the very personal realities of poverty for a distressingly large portion of my county. I will spare you what are some stark realities for a lot of people, because I assume you'd like to sleep at night without particular images in your brain.

Homelessness is not nearly as uncommon as you might wish to believe. It goes without saying that lack of decent (or any) medical coverage is the norm for the vast majority of individuals. (I fully intend to rant about the insane income limits set for medical coverage at a later date.) Ongoing mental health issues, often coupled with drug use borne out of desperation, lack of options or any other myriad of reasons do NOT make daily living or traditional work structures easy or even achievable for many. These are enormous issues, extremely well addressed in learned articles, thick academic tomes, and accessible reads such as Barbara Ehrenreich's book, "Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America".

As my academic background is not this area, I'm going to leave the hard research to those equipped to do so, and venture into an area in which I feel I have some personal knowledge. And that area is food. I've long since prided myself on being a frugal shopper and cook, who can turn out a damn good meal on a tight budget. But can I, truly?

According to the national Food Stamp program, the federal government allots an individual $7/day for groceries. And while the program is not intended to be the entire food budget for a family or individual, for many people it is. If it's not on their benefit card, it's not being put in the shopping cart or on the table. There is no extra money beyond what they receive in Food Stamps. And bear in mind that this is food only...paper goods, cleaning products, bath products and so on are not allowable on the Food Stamp program, and yet are most certainly essential needs.

What I'm kicking around as an idea is to see how I can do on the federally mandated food budget for a month or so. I'll allot myself $200/month (the maximum a single individual can receive in Food Stamps) for food, and stick to it. I'm hoping that this will give me a greater understanding of the challenges my clients face in food budgeting, and some of the obstacles to good nutrition that are faced. I by no means have a single illusion that I'll be walking in anyone's shoes but my own for this, and do not want anyone believing that my success or lack thereof means that I underestimate their challenges. I'm coming into this with extraordinary resources that many people do not have. I have a kitchen that is well equipped (if you're homeless and living in a hotel, I quite frankly don't know how you manage), and I've been an attentive cook for a long time. I'm also not trying to feed persnickety children, which, from hearing my friends tell it, adds a whole different layer of difficulty into getting dinner on the table.

I'm still ironing out the details of this, and would welcome input and suggestions that you might have. My only goal here is increased understanding, as my heart is broken almost daily by my clients. The better I understand, the more I can be of assistance. And in the end, shouldn't that be what my job is all about?

A Meal You Should Never Eat

Everyone's got that meal that they tend to eat when what they need is comfort from the stomach on out. I've heard any number of things...Cream of Wheat, mac and cheese is a perennial favorite, assorted soups, and so on. It's the food you make when you're not creating an elaborate meal for friends, and are fully prepared to don some pants with an elastic waistband. Garnishes and other fripperies don't even enter the equation for meals such as these...you're not cooking for your eyes, here.

For me, the hands down winner in this category is pierogies. A traditional Eastern European dish, made in my hometown by church basements of Ukrainian women, this is the penultimate soul food. If you're hardcore, have a lot of time and an army of friends who get their jollies making many little stuffed dumplings, you can go right ahead and make these beasties from scratch. If this doesn't quite fit your schedule, you can cruise straight to the freezer section of your grocery store and grab a box of them. (Somewhere, an angry grandmother is waving a ladle at me in indignation, and I do apologize, but some things have to be ceded in the interests of eating before 2 am.)

I've noticed a growing variety of pierogies, including some filled with feta and spinach and heaven only knows what else. This, in my eyes, is sheer blasphemy. For purists, only mashed potatoes and cheese belong in them...leniency is granted to what you put on top of them upon completion, but until then...dogmatic dumplings, dammit!

Anyway...I was coming off a long week of work, and the previous weekend was far more social and culinarily planned out than usual, so today was Happy Hermit Day. (I've only got so much being nice a week in me, and I had peaked by about, oh, Wednesday.) I didn't want to pair wines and plot side dishes...I wanted something with a fat content that would make a doctor cringe. And the way I do pierogies, that is DEFINITELY the end result.

I'm not even going to pretend that what follows is a recipe for a meal, but it is, for me at least, a recipe for a soothed soul.

Pierogies for One

Ingredients:

• 6 frozen pierogies (such as Mrs. T's)
• irresponsible amount of bacon (1/2 pound works for me)
• 1 onion, peeled and sliced in half moons
• sour cream to dollop

What to do next:

• Put a large pot of water on to boil. While waiting for this to happen;
• Heat a large skillet, and put in a LOT of bacon. Start frying it.
• Put pierogies in boiling water for about 5 minutes. You're only thawing them, here. They'll bob up in the pot when they're well warmed. Drain.
  
• Put cooked bacon on a paper towel-lined plate.
• In skillet with bacon drippings, put the boiled pierogies and sliced onion. Fry, turning pierogies over occasionally, until onions are sauteed nicely and pierogies are golden and have a nice crispness to the exterior.
• Crumble bacon over the onions and pierogies, glop on some sour cream, and tuck in.
  

While a wine pairing for this is utterly out of the question, if you're hell bent on sticking to a regional theme, vodka is the way to go, here.

Now relax, stretch out on the couch, and feel like maybe, just maybe, you can interact with other humans again sometime soon...maybe tomorrow.