i should have known better

I've mentioned that I rarely buy food at Costco. I simply don't trust them. It's not that I never buy anything there, it's just that, normally, I'm super-cautious and don't expect much. Still, I almost always look.

Given my usual caution, I don't know what I was thinking today. I saw some beautiful T-bone steaks. Seriously, they were beautiful, and we are not even T-bone fans. I carefully selected an especially nice package of two steaks which weighed a little more than 3 pounds. I was thinking grand, fun-filled BBQ and leftovers. I was really kind of jazzed.

When we got home, I quickly went to the steaks to salt and refrigerate them, my usual routine. That's when I noticed the small print, explaining they had been "blade tenderized" and should be cooked to a minimum temperature of 180F for safety. Geez! 180! That's a joke, right? Even GK, who eats well-done meat, wouldn't want a steak cooked to that temperature. I, personally, am a rare meat fan. I'll tolerate medium-rare if I have to, but I don't relish the thought. 180F, no way.

Still, I do not feel bound to follow labels where safety is concerned. This label was a different situation. You can easily bring the temperature of the outside of a large piece of meat, like a steak, to a very high temperature, well over 180F without overcooking the interior. At least if a careless food industry has not poked holes all through it, you can. Blade tenderization stabs meats in mass, introducing the likelihood of bacteria being moved from the surface inward. The result is a bit like ground meat in terms of safety issues.

So now I'm sulking and trying to talk GK into taking the damn things back.

and now a new chapter begins...

I'm a high school teacher. More accurately put, I was a high school teacher. Last week, I finished packing my personal stuff, said sad and encouraging good-byes to my students, completed the last reports, the final bit of paperwork, and drove away. For the final time.

It was a personal choice, though I'm still feeling a slight tinge of loss and am floundering a bit putting all my new freedom to good use. My plan is to sleep later each day, to play in the garden more, to talk myself into enjoying photography, to spend far more time in the kitchen creating and experimenting, and to write. I've not attended to this blog on a regular basis for some time. That will change.

In the coming weeks, expect more and regular posts, a new look, and most likely a new site. It will not be an overnight occurrence, more like an extended process, much like my learning to sleep past 3 or 4 am.

Thank you for your patience and for hanging out with me during these transitions. Now, to get into the kitchen, so I have something fun to write about....

of crock pots and childhood

I've been enjoying my crock pots a lot lately. Possibly the best part for me is having hot, moist, long-cooking sorts of meals that take only minutes of my attention.

I love, really love, hanging out in the kitchen and spending all day on a sauce. I truly do. But I absolutely, positively do not enjoy coming home tired and hungry and grumpy after a day of work and hoping for a creative impulse. I'm not going to find creativity then not matter how hard I look. So instead, especially in winter, I try to keep something simmering and ready. Something that satisfies on all sorts of levels. Winter is serious comfort food time.

My favorite food memories are almost all of Syrian or Lebanese meals, the food my grandmother cooked (and my mother, though mom was always a southern girl at heart.) I don't make many of these dishes anymore, unfortunately. Many, if not most, use grains as a mainstay and gluten is abundant. Still,  I long for those flavors.

 One of my favorites was a long, slow cooked dish we simply referred to as green beans and rice. It started with ground lamb or beef (most often beef during my childhood years due to relative costs) that we browned with chopped onions, salt, and pepper. Next we added lots of green beans, fresh or frozen, and a can or two of tomato sauce and an equal amount of water. This simmered, covered for hours and hours and hours. Seriously. The green beans almost, but not quite, melted into the sauce. This was then served over mounds of rice, first browned in butter (probably margarine when I was a child) and steamed. I loved it, still do to this day, though when cooking in my own kitchen I made it with diced lamb or beef more often than ground. These days, of course, I don't eat rice and I also can handle only the tiniest amount of tomato. In reality, I should probably stay as far away from any tomato as I possibly can, but every once-in-awhile I use a little. Just a little. Still, that means no tomato sauce at all, since it's pretty darned concentrated.

A few tomatoes in a large pot of food can add the flavor without so much tomato.

While trying to find a good lazy-day plan for a leg of lamb from Lava Lake Lamb, I inadvertently discovered an easy dish that is becoming one of my favorites. I love their lamb, and while I was not in the frame of mind for hours in the kitchen, I was sure as heck not going to waste that lamb. I decided to put the lamb in the crock pot and hope for the best. Then those green bean thoughts started dancing in my head. What if I put a couple of pounds of green beans in the bottom and layered the other ingredients? Now, when I say layer, I mean toss in randomly for the most part. They just end up in natural layers. I used what I had. Not wanting to chop an onion, seriously I was feeling that lazy, I used frozen pearl onions. I grabbed 3 small Roma tomatoes from the freezer and tossed them on top. Then I plopped the lamb on top of the veggies. I figured with that many watery vegetables, I would not need to add any more moisture. Good call, since there was plenty of broth produced without the addition of liquid.

What a delightful surprise. It was far better than I ever expected. The flavors were wonderful and even reminded me a bit of stuffed grape leaves, another childhood favorite. I have made this dish since, evening starting with a piece of frozen meat. I did mention the lazy part, right? It's virtually foolproof and not time-sensitive. It can cook 6 hours or 10 without issue.

I still love to spend hours in the kitchen when I have hours to spend, but it is utterly delightful to come home to dinner that's hot and ready and a house that smells like childhood.

ah, a new year

There's something about a new year that delights me. The promise, the possibility, the very newness of it. I love New Year's Day. And I especially love this one.

Looking back on 2012, I can, but won't, recount far more negative than positive in those 12 months. That's not to say nothing good happened in 2012. In the world, in my personal life as well, I see much to appreciate. It's just that so much of 2012 does not fall into that category. 2013 is all ahead.

I woke this morning startled by my own focus for the day. I want to clean my kitchen---top to bottom, and more reorganizing and optimizing than cleaning. Still, I want it squeaky clean, as well. This is not like me. It's not that I'm a fan of dirty kitchens or anything else for that matter. It's just that it's not my focus. I've often mentioned that I am the mess-maker extraordinaire and GK has kindly volunteered to take care of the cleaning. This is a delightful arrangement that works quite well for the most part. What I do give up is control. When he puts dishes, utensils, cookware, foods away, he decides where they are to go. It's a matter of practicality, of course. But when I reach for a specific knife and find another in its place, my body tenses and I suppress (usually) a slight grumble. My tools should be where they belong, right? Not in my wildest, craziest dreams would I consider walk into "his" garage and moving so much as a screw. And back on the kitchen end, you don't even want me to start on the frustration of spending twice as long looking for ingredients that have been moved as I spend making the dish I'm cooking. So today is kitchen "cleaning" day, and for a little while at least, I'll be able to find things in my kitchen.

It was easy to get his commitment  to help. It's pretty rare for me to ask for a day devoted to cleaning. When I do, I get cooperation, muscle-power, and encouragement. All the time, of course, he's in utter disbelief that I've said "let's clean." It's the best of all worlds for me and a most wonderful way to start a new year.