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Archive for the ‘Eats’ Category

The first CSA haul of the summer and I’m already faced with the unknown: eggplant. I guess because my grandfather never grew eggplants, I hardly ever ate them and certainly never had to figure out how to cook them.

Indulging my tendency to try things that are probably a bit too complicated, I settled on making Eggplant Parmesan, using a recipe from Martha Stewart.

That’s right. Martha Stewart.

It turned out delicious, even if it took the better part of two hours to make. I was unable to capture its deliciousness in a photograph, however; it’s one of those dishes that just looks like a big watery blob on the screen.

Next week I’m hoping for tomatoes, because juicy homegrown tomatoes have to be nature’s gift to us for putting up with heat like this.

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I finally made it to Huntsville’s new Earth Fare location last weekend, although I failed to spend the requisite $100-plus some customers have brag-complained about.

Earth Fare is like any other grocery store in its basic layout: If you stick to the perimeter, where the produce, dairy products, meats, cheeses and breads are located, you’ll spend less money and get healthier food for your family. Head to the interior aisles, however, and you may spend more than you should on things you don’t need, like frozen waffles,  cereals, prepackaged mixes and fancy juices.

Yes, eventually you’ll have to venture to a middle aisle, if nothing else than to find Reed’s Extra Ginger Brew, seriously the only soda I waste calories on anymore. But consider another pass through the produce area instead of grabbing a couple of boxes of all natural fruit chews off the shelf, especially if you intend to grouse about prices later.

Earth Fare’s biggest draws for me, in order: the bulk bins (grains, not candy), the produce selection, the fresh peanut butter grinders (husband thing) and the olive bar. The olive bar is a tad pricey at almost $10 a pound, but it’s great when you just need a few olives of a certain type for a recipe, or you get a craving flung on you for a few spoonfuls of marinated mushrooms.

Some folks want to criticize the store for carrying non-local produce, and I admit I was momentarily disappointed to find watermelons from Honduras on display. What I forgot for a second, and what a lot of people forget when they rant about produce being shipped into their regions, is that we don’t HAVE watermelons locally in May. Local tomatoes don’t exist in March. Local citrus … uh, no.

If we want all fruits and vegetables the whole year round, we have to accept the fact that they will not come from any place close by. I do hope to see local produce in Earth Fare as the summer progresses, however, and the natural crop cycles play out.

In the meantime, my supply of steel-cut oats has taken a beating this weekend (they take a ridiculously long time to cook, but emerge from the pot chewy and creamy, subtly sweet after I add just a hint of brown sugar and a scattering of raisins), and the freshly ground peanut/dark chocolate mixture my husband requested seems to be dwindling as well. A return trip to the outer edges of Earth Fare may be in order.

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People who buy iced tea by the gallon in plastic cartons: You are paying a company to steep tea bags in hot water and burn gasoline to drive flavored water to the grocery store. You could make way better iced tea yourself for much less money.

This is ranking right up there with buying premixed Gatorade and presliced apples on the You Have Got to be Kidding Me scale.

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I used to think the best strawberries in the world came from southern Louisiana. That was before I found southern Tennessee.

Sorry, Louisiana. You have been dethroned. These strawberries are like candy, many so sweet that it seems like somebody has already dipped them in sugar.

I found them at the Dennison’s Family Farm strawberry stand on Hughes Road in Madison. There are a few more stands around the Huntsville area; check out Dennison’s Facebook page to find one near you.

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When I bought my new ceramic cooktop, I ditched both of my old, stained non-stick skillets. The non-stick surface was beginning to wear off anyway, and I just didn’t trust them not to scratch or crack my delicate new appliance.

My new set of stainless steel pots and pans, however, is anything but non-stick. This has only been a problem for two household favorites: grilled cheese sandwiches and scrambled eggs. The dusty, nearly forgotten George Foreman Grill took care of the grilled cheese dilemma, but my only option for eggs seemed to be cooking them in a big puddle of butter to keep them from sticking. Forget about omelets.

This is where Christy Jordan of SouthernPlate.com comes in. If you eat, you ought to visit this website. Christy can spin a yarn and show you how to make delicious creations at the same time. Pretty soon you’ll know all about her family, vacations and grocery shopping habits.

When she shared a recipe for an Easy Oven Omelet a few weeks ago, I knew I may have found my solution for eggs.

That recipe resulted in the best egg dish I had ever made – it was more or less a souffle. It even won over my husband, who I feared wouldn’t be able to deal with all the onions.

The only problem: It made enough for at least three meals for two people. I ate leftover omelet for lunch twice, which is one time too many, and guiltily tossed the rest.

So I broke out my apron and started customizing. I decided not to cut the recipe in half, opting to quarter it since, frankly, one day of leftover omelet isn’t much tastier than two. Made with mozzarella cheese and roasted red peppers, it was delicious, but my mistake was putting it in a baking dish that was too wide. It came out of the oven not much thicker than a pancake.

The answer came to me yesterday: ramekins. My customized recipe made just enough omelet “batter” for two servings, each in its own cute little serving dish. No leftovers here.

Here’s the basic recipe, but as Christy points out, you can substitute pretty much any cheese or vegetable you like. The only reason I used roasted red peppers is because I had part of a jar left in the fridge from another recipe. A mix of chopped bell pepper and onion is also good.

Shaggerty’s Oven Omelet for Two

(Adapted from SouthernPlate.com’s Easy Oven Omelet)

  • 2 eggs
  • 1/4 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
  • 1/8 cup milk
  • 1/4 cup chopped roasted red peppers
  • Spray two ramekins with cooking spray. Beat the eggs in a medium mixing bowl. Add the other ingredients and stir until well combined. Split mixture between two ramekins. Bake in a 350-degree oven for 25-30 minutes, or the omelets are firm and don’t jiggle when you shake them.

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    I had a Dr Pepper last week, probably the first in three or four years.

    It was overwhelmingly delicious. I paid more attention to my soda than I did my meal; every sip was a burst of out-of-this-world flavor.

    You’re shrugging. Nothing special about Dr Pepper, right? Just another soda.

    The thing is that it WASN’T just another soda.

    I gave up soda as an everyday beverage about five years ago.  I might order one when we eat out, but overall I average about two sodas a month.

    Which brings me back to the Dr Pepper. It was delectable simply because it was rare.

    The whole episode made me wonder: How many foods do we consume every day that should be rarities? How much better would some things taste if we weren’t eating them day in, day out?

    How much healthier would we be?

    If a little delayed gratification makes tasty things even tastier, isn’t the initial denial worth it?

    I’ll let you know next year, when I have another Dr Pepper.

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    Ever manage to inadvertently start following a healthy eating pattern?

    This weekend, I realized that I’ve established two useful food guidelines over the past few years: I don’t eat in the car, and I don’t eat in front of the TV.

    Both situations came about entirely by accident.

    I purchased a car with a manual transmission six years ago, meaning that the “extra” hand required to eat while driving is only accessible when cruising speed has been reached on the interstate. City driving does not free up this hand. As a bonus, the car’s tiny cupholders are a marvel of engineering; the two up front are too small for anything but a 12-ounce soda can, and the larger one between the buckets seats requires the flexibility of a Cirque performer to reach.

    The living room embargo is a bit more complicated. As we watched the floodwaters of Hurricane Katrina approach our home in Mobile in 2005, we grabbed our table from the dining room and flipped it onto the bed in hopes of keeping it dry. We ended up with only the back third of the house flooded, but the teardown, rewiring, rebuilding, re-everything meant that the table was taken apart and stored in the bedroom closet for the better part of two years.

    What I discovered during this time was that no matter your intentions, eating dinner in the living room off of the coffee table pretty much ensures that you WILL turn the TV on. It’s just what happens. And once the TV is on, conversation is off.

    The first thing I set up upon arrival in Huntsville, therefore, was the table. There have been no dinners in front of Smallville, no breakfasts in front of The Soup. Just talking, newspaper-reading, and, occasionally, a subtle Pandora soundtrack.

    Not eating dinner in the living room leads to not eating much of anything in the living room except for the rare bowl of movie popcorn. Nobody heads to the kitchen and grabs a bag of chips to mindlessly munch on; nobody sits down with a sleeve of cookies to polish off.

    Focused eating is more likely to be healthy eating, and dining without distraction makes for much better family time. And you don’t have to buy a manual transmission or wait for a flood: Declare the driver’s seat off limits for noshing, and insist that nothing crosses the dining room border but popcorn. In both cases, your seat cushions and your waistline will thank you.

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    OK, I know I sound like a shill, but you should totally buy a share in a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program this summer.

    I had the best time last year with my weekly pickups from Dennison’s Family Farm in Elora, Tenn. It really did turn into my own version of Iron Chef, having to work with whatever ingredients showed up in the box each week. And since there are few things scarier for my husband to hear than the statement “I made something new for dinner,” it’s somewhat of a miracle that he had a blast with it, too.

    It’s a lesson in the natural cycle of crops for those who aren’t used to the whims of Mother Nature. For example, last year’s rains made for a very short corn crop, so I didn’t get nearly the amount of corn I had expected, but I got tons of tomatoes, chard and peppers of all varieties. And strawberries. Not those tasteless baby-fist-sized strawberries you get at the grocery store, but juicy, delectable berries, so many that you can’t eat them all and will be forced to make the best ice cream ever with them. Darn the luck.

    Some folks tell me that they just prefer to go to the farmer’s market, which is cool if you like rolling out of bed before 9 a.m. on Saturdays. Which, truthfully, I have been known to do. But what I find myself not doing at the farmer’s market is buying something I’m unfamiliar with, or buying so much of something that I have enough to freeze for later. (I’ve got two more servings of zucchini/onion/garlic soup base in the freezer, and I just ran out of frozen bell pepper slices in January.) Even if you’re not going to get into canning, you can still have a little taste of summer when it’s 30 degrees outside.

    Seriously, it was the best summer food-wise that I’ve had since that summer in the early 1980s when my grandfather and I grew a huge patch of watermelons and I ate my weight in fresh tomatoes.

    Head to Dennison’s page on LocalHarvest for details on its 10-week program, or search for a CSA closer to you.

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    Buying cookware is the final stage of entry to adulthood, right?

    I am SO there.

    I’ve been using the cookware pictured here for about 16 years. Liberated from the home of my dearly departed paternal grandmother, it’s likely older than I am. Wear and tear wasn’t really a problem, however, since she hardly ever cooked much more than a can of chicken noodle soup.

    It was some kind of enamelware, with hints of an Australian origin. I was always sort of vaguely aware that I should buy something “real,” since who knows what that stuff was coated with.

    One of the larger pots developed a small dark spot on the bottom in the late ’90s. While boiling water one day, I watched the spot rise to the surface, followed by a powdery, brownish red cloud. It seemed to have rusted through from the inside out.

    Other than that incident, it was incredibly durable. The only reason I had to get rid of it was because of another very grownup purchase my husband and I made recently: a new stove.

    It’s a stainless steel model with a ceramic cooktop that, in theory, will make the kitchen sleek and sporty once we’ve replaced everything else that makes the kitchen non-sleek and frumpy.

    The only caveat: The safest way to use the ceramic cooktop is not to use it at all.

    It is the drama queen of cooking surfaces. No enamel. No cast iron. No aluminum. Only the flattest of flat-bottomed cookware will do. No hint of moisture on the outside of the vessel. If you spill anything with sugar in it on the cooktop, immediately turn the stove off, call a priest and get him to pray that you can remove the spill before it makes a pit on the surface.

    I kid. Sort of. It’s actually a really reliable cooktop, once you get used to it, and the oven is the most accurate model I’ve ever used. And it does make one end of the kitchen look very sporty.

    I think I’m even burning extra calories, because cooking without the fear of instantaneously destroying your cooktop doesn’t produce any adrenaline at all.

    It might all be hype. Several people have told me that they use anything and everything on their ceramic cooktops. But older enamelware seems to be a consistent no-no – the surface coating has every possibility of actually melting onto the cooktop.

    So we bought a set of stainless steel, the only “sure thing” to use. I was pleasantly surprised by the price; my husband found a five-piece set of Tramontina, recommended by Cook’s Illustrated, for around $150 at Wal-Mart, a real bargain compared to most of the luxury brands.

    I’ve got no complaints about it. Best of all, some lucky thrift-store scavenger is going to get a few more years of use out of my grandmotherly enamelware. Just beware the small dark spot on the bottom.

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    I’ve been on a pomegranate kick the past couple of weeks. I find pomegranate juice a little too strong (and a little too overpriced), but I love the seeds themselves. I guess it appeals to the part of me that still wants to play with my food.

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