Nurturing my inner... hops around the world

This is going to sound like you're watching QVC, but here goes... I decided recently that I was going to try "Beers from Around the World."  (It really is a wonder how some guy hasn't scooped me up yet.)  Unlike those undiscerning college days many of us had, beer should not be super cheap and chugged without tasting.  In contrast, it can be a delightful and refreshing beverage, with the right food.  (Which should be more than just peanuts.)  Though, truth be known, I don't often get beer out.  (Not sure why.  No reason.)  Which has meant that in order to try a new beer I'd have to buy an entire six pack.  Since I don't really want to do that, because what if it tastes like swamp water, I sort of forgot about beer.  Until recently, that is.

Total Wine.  Too bad they changed the name from Total Beverage in recent years, because they really do carry more than just wine.  In fact, they carry beers from all over the planet.  AND you can even buy them one at a time.  (Sweet!)  I found the answer to my problem.

A sampling of just a handful of the beers.
Italy, England, Austria, Ireland, Australia!

Flashback: Thailand Thai food.  In the ghetto mall that my friend and I go to for art films, as mentioned in a previous post.  This is what I got the last time.  Mmm...  Chicken satay and spring rolls.



The decor is unimpressive, thank goodness
the food isn't.


I recalled that the table tent cards advertised a certain beer from their region.  I've never gotten it, yet always thought, you know, I should try it some day.  Chang - Thailand's most popular brand.  (Available at Total Wine.)

Quite an artistic label.

Alas, I was nowhere near the theater that time, and renovations, forgot.  So instead, I headed to my favorite close by place to get Thai takeout.  Thai Luang in Herndon, VA.

Showing you a picture of takeout on my boring dishes at home isn't nearly as exciting as taking a photo in the restaurant - with the waitresses looking at you like you're a complete American weirdo.  (Food captured in its native element is the most photogenic anyway.)  And I just happened to have a photo from another visit.  (Uh, why yes I do carry my camera around just for moments like these.)

Blue table cloth, blue and white plates.  Very pretty.  The plates are sort of rectangular with rounded edges.  Makes for a nice presentation.  They hold their noodles, rices and curries perfectly, as some have a light sauce to them.  I often get chicken pad thai: rice noodles, tofu, egg, crushed peanut and mung beans.  (I always have them hold the scallions, as they aren't my favorite.)

Have to eat with chopsticks. It's
the only way to do it up right.

The light flavor of Chang, went nicely with the noodles.  I suppose they do know what they were talking about.  They say it's best when in Europe to drink the wine of the region you are dining in and I'd say the same would go for beer.  Today's stop was Thailand, next time, who knows.  Get your passport ready.

Nurturing my inner... bowl of lower cholesterol

If I asked you about oatmeal, what would be your initial reaction?  A mushy/bland or sugar-saturated glop the consistency of tile grout?  That's because you've eaten instant, overly-sweetened, preprocessed junk.  Time for you to explore other options.

Oatmeal with Cranberries, Pecans and Brown Sugar

1/4 cup steel cut oats
1 cup water
1/4 cup dried cranberries
2 tbsp chopped and toasted pecans (Trader Joe's)
2 tbsp dark brown sugar
pinch of salt
drizzle of light agave nectar

Oatmeal, not the kind in the package that you make in the microwave, is actually good for you.  They have done studies that show that eating oatmeal for breakfast can help lower your cholesterol and improve brain function.  Tastes good and does that too?  Well, sign me up!

The oats I purchased might not be what you're used to seeing.  You're probably more familiar, like I had been, with rolled oats.  But steel cut is where it's at.  (Please ignore that I ended my sentence with a preposition.  Apparently eating oatmeal doesn't improve your grammar skills.)

Comes in a canister, in raw form. Shake
it. It even sounds hearty.

Steel cut oats look different than rolled oats.  I don't want you to be shocked when you look at these and think, "What the hay!"

Those don't look like oats. Are you trying
to pull one over on me!

At least you were warned.  Steel cut oats look more like broken pieces of grain instead of flat discs.  Don't be afraid.

Into a pan of boiling water go the oats.  Cover and turn down to a simmer.  If you find that the water is evaporating too quickly, turn the heat down even more and add a little extra water if it disappeared too much.  (There really is no shame in having to adjust as you go.  Hey, you're in there cooking!  That's what counts.)  Cook for about seven to nine minutes or until oats are tender.

Give a little stir and cover.

Raisins were an option, but I really was in the mood for some tart cranberries instead.  I used dried ones, so, a lot like raisins when you think about it.

Sweet AND tart. You get a little of both worlds.

I threw these beauties into the pot with the oatmeal when there was just a few minutes left.  That way they could soak in a bit of hot water, plump up and soften.

You don't have to do this step, I just like to.

When the oatmeal is fully done, add the brown sugar and a pinch of salt.  Sounds odd, sure, but salt really brings out the flavor in sweet as well as savory dishes.  Stir.  (Wow, I am barking out the orders now.)

Brown sugar is a carmely, mellow sweetner.
Not harsh like white sugar.

Uh, needs crunch.  Sliced almonds, walnuts, any nut is fine.  I like pecans and lucky for me, I had some in the pantry.

Nutty flavor balances out the sweet.

When the oatmeal had all the flavors I wanted incorporated, I grabbed a bowl and filled it up.  Then I tasted it and still felt it needed to be just a tad more sweet.  I was not about to add regular sugar though.  Back to the pantry I went and searched around for what else was in there.  Oh, agave!  Lightly sweet.  Just what I needed.

A light, less sweet substitute for maple syrup.
Great on pancakes and waffles too.

A little drizzle on top, then stir in your bowl.  Yep, that should do it.

Agave comes in other colors and flavors.
I'm sure you will find at least one you like.

Hearty, wholesome, satisfying and perfectly sweetened to your personal preference.  While still being good for you.

Not your bland cafeteria oatmeal.

Less than eight minutes may not be considered "instant," but it is super fast and so much better for you than the quicker stuff.  Besides, easy things aren't always best.  Thank goodness that doesn't have to translate to difficult either.

Nurturing my inner... im"pressed" by the french

Nothing like a great cup of coffee on the morning.  I like all kinds of coffee, for sure.  Well, except for that battery acid they have on the burner all day long at work.  (Trying to kill a double agent covertly or remove corrosion from a copper pipe?  Yeah, that stuff will do it.)  I may have to append my former statement: I like all kinds of GOOD coffee.  From the fancy blends to the every day stuff.  Today I honor the best way to make the most flavorful big mug-sized coffee - the french press.  (Mon amour.)

Note: One day I'd like to get a burr grinder, but for now, I grind my beans at the grocery store.  For the specific type of coffee I plan on making.  It's important to use the right kind of grind to get the right kind of results.  (By the way, my friends love the coffee I get at the grocery store and I don't ever tell them it's not from the well known chain shops.  What they don't know...)

Canisters make it easy to store coffee in a
tight container, away from air.
Yes, air is your enemy.

I'm not one to care for weak coffee.  If you are going to bother to drink a steaming mug of Joe to perk you up in the morning, I say, it better have some body to it.

I mostly try to drink decaf, but sometimes I
go half and half. Just gives me a little perk.

The french press.  A simple tool.  But produces optimum flavor.  The French knew this.  That's why they made the press.  (And named it after themselves.)  I have a bigger one for when I have more company, but a friend gave me this one and it makes two good-sized mugs for me.  Some mornings, I need all the coffee I can get. *yawn*



It's simply a beaker and plunger set up.
Basic, yet wildly effective.


If you don't have a french press, I have to insist you get one.  If not, it's possible we may no longer be friends or I may be forced to buy you one to salvage the relationship.  Coffee is nothing to mess with.  (I have my serious face on.)

It probably will take you some trial and error before you get it just where you want it.  For my size pot, I use about three scoops.  Read your instructions and then tweak it in subsequent tries until it matches your idea of fresh brewed perfection.

Coffee goes right in the bottom.

Water should actually not be boiling when it goes into the press.  So, I get it up to a boil, then turn the burner off and let it stop bubbling.  Takes about a minute or so.

Boil yes, to get it hot. Then let sit.

For some reason unknown, I always seem to spill water when I'm pouring from pan to beaker.  I am not exactly sure how it happens, but I've resorted to putting a kitchen towel under the french press because I have learned, albeit slowly, from my mistakes.

Nestled in the towel for safe, and dry, keeping.

I fill it up to just below the pour spout.

I can smell the wonderful aroma already!
Ahhhhhhh...

I set the timer on my stove, or the one on my fridge, for four minutes.  And then stand there staring at it, barely blinking, until one minute goes by.  Part of the reason is because I'm not awake yet.

Handy microwave timer.

The other reason is because after the one minute has gone by, I stir the floating grounds with a chopstick, and make sure all is mixed up well.  (This is what I have seen all the cool kids do.)  Actually, it makes sure the grounds are all distributed and saturated.

Lovely foam on top.

When my timer has gone off after the full four minutes, it's show time.  I place the plunger, that has a mesh bottom to trap the grounds but let the liquid through, flat into the press.  Parallel to the bottom of the beaker.

The coffee will begin to come up through the
holes, and around the sides.

Slowly the plunger goes down, down, down...  (Well, with my help.)

Frothy top!

... until it reaches the bottom.

Almost there.  Still heading South.

The lid is attached, so once the knob at the top is all the way down and can't go any farther, you are done.  You can't really tell me that percolated coffee or a machine you plug into the wall are truly easier.  This didn't take long at all and is MUCH more delicious.

The perfect pot.

Pour into a generously large mug or a bowl.  I often like to drink my coffee out of a fluted, handleless bowl - French-style.  Makes me feel so Parisian.  Which is tres decadent!

Pouring this time is easier. No towel needed.

You can use milk, creme, whatever you'd like at this point.  I don't use any lactose-based product, but need a little sweet to cut the bitterness.  I've been experimenting with different vanilla sugars to see which one I like best.  I like both, so no comment on who wins.

Williams & Sonoma or Penzeys. The world
has options galore.

I just needed a croissant from the farmers market to round this morning off perfectly.  Well, thank goodness I froze some.  (Only three left though, then no more until May!)  My breakfast would have made any French Revolutionist or haute couture fashion designer proud.

Foam swirling from my stirring.

The sure fire way to kick off a slow starting morning is to make the best cup of coffee humanly possible.  (Amazing french pastries to complement the brew doesn't hurt either.)  If you're going to go through all the trouble of sipping on a giant cup of aromatic and reliable java, hoping it will some how magically transform your day, it's best to take the time to do it right.  The french press won't let you down.

Nurturing my inner... unlikely motivator for running

I eat, therefore I run.  One of my life mottos.  (I seem to have many to choose from.)

My friend Megan asked if we could get together for dinner one Wednesday night and drink the wine I was suckered into buying, while she was present, from a man with a fabulous Australian accent.  So I figured it was a great time to make something from the master "I need to cook this one day" list.  Something I knew she'd enjoy.

Stuffed Shells

2 lbs part skim ricotta
2 cups shredded mozzarella
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/8 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt
2 eggs
8-10 leaves of fresh basil, chopped
6 meatballs, crumbled
1 quart, or two jars, of sauce

Dear ladies from the homeland of my genetics.  Stop.  I need a recipe.  Stop.  An age old favorite.  Stop.  That people will cry out for in the streets.  Stop.  And a cell phone would be nice too.  Stop.  So I don't have to use this fake telegraph bit to get some laughs.  Stop.  (Please stop!)  I'm forever in your debt oh short, round, feisty women of old.  Full stop.

This is one of those dishes that seem like it's impossible to make and you can only get it out at a place ending in o's or i's or io's.  But I assure you, it's easier than you think!  You could just use the recipe on the back of the box.  But really now.  Where's the fun in that.  Doctor it up, I say.  (I just said it.  That's a new one.)

Pack your bags, road trip!!  Mattie's Deli, I salute you.  This is the last of what's left from my summer vacation in CT.  And it will go out with a bang.

The ultimate BSE.

My grocery store is limited when it comes to Italian pasta brands.  There, I said it.  And I'm not afraid of you monstrously large, multi-label, squash the little guy conglomerates.  (Shaking an angry fist at the sky ala Charleton Heston type fury.)  So, I went with the one of maybe two brands I did find.

You'll do.

To prepare the shells, I parboiled them for 8 minutes.  Because the box told me to.  (No, not audibly.  Well, not today, anyway.)  I drained them, ran them under a little cold water to cool and put them aside.  But you can't do it for long or they'll start to stick together.



Some are always going to get broken, so go
ahead and make the entire box.


I never thought I'd use store brand ricotta, but seeing as there was only one other choice and it was about a dollar or more expensive, I figured, well, no time like the present to see if it's any good.  Which was a little dicey, since I was having a friend over and really didn't want a colossal failure on my hands after all this work.  Oh well, take a leap!  (Seeing as it's no risk for you, go ahead and cheer me on.)

How different could generic ricotta possibly
be anyway? Guess we'll find out in a little
over an hour.

The entire container and salt goes into a bowl and to that I added the expected: dried oregano.

Nothing shocking.

Time to add some big flavor.

Old and new contributions.

Of course, the shells wouldn't be complete without Parmesan.



The sharp flavor of Parmesan adds a totally
different dimension to the mild ricotta.


And eggs are needed as a binding agent.

A couple will do ya in a batch of this size.

Egg is what helps the cheese to bake up fluffy inside the shell.  If it's good enough to work for cakes, then why not this.

There is a difference between store bought and
farm fresh eggs.  The yolks are a deeper yellow
in these eggs right from the farmer.

You can scramble them up before you put them in.  Lazybones me, I didn't feel like it.  So in they went, whole.

It all gets mixed together later, so it
doesn't really matter.

Enter generic cheese test number two.  On sale.  Compare and contrast.

I'm trying to be wise with my finances,
especially as I've been cooking more.
Saving here means I can spend on
something else fresh.

Doesn't look any different than the fancy name brand stuff to me.

Yep, I'm the same. Just a less fancy label.

Mozzarella goes in the bowl.  The reason I don't use fresh mozzarella for this is that the moisture content is a lot higher and I'm going for something more dense.

Looks so good, I don't know how I can be
patient through the rest of this write up.

The previous ingredients shouldn't surprise you.  But, I added a couple other items.  One is a new second generation American addition: fresh basil.  The basil is no big shocker as it's a common ingredient in Italian food, I just haven't seen it added to the filling. Until today!

From the grocery store. Yeah, yeah, I know.
But the farmers' market is closed until May.

Chop it up any which way.  Go ahead, use your knife with reckless abandon.  (Well, safely with a tad of abandon.)

Doesn't have to be small, just not super large
so it ends up the overwhelming flavor.

At last, some bright color.  Bellissimo!

Wonderful smell engaged.

The other key ingredient, is an old Italian secret: nutmeg.  Right, you had no idea!  (I had an idea though, because both my Nana and my mother made them with it.  It's still exciting though.)

Nutmeg is a strong flavor, so you don't want
to over do it. Use sparingly.

Give it a final swirl and your mixture is complete!

Right, so, not very amazing yet.  But hang on!

Your shells should be slightly cooled now and able to handle without burning your hands.  This should not involve pain.  You're not at the gym.  (Though, you should be, in preparation for the hearty portion you'll want to consume later.)  Hold the shell open.  Take a teaspoon and scoop up some of the mixture.  Fill up the shell so it can't fully close.

Green flecks of fresh herbs, to me, make my
shells extra wonderful.

Place in a baking dish.  Like a stoneware lasagna pan.

Some in the smaller pan.

I made plenty, so I needed more than one dish.

More in the bigger pan!

Cover with some of the sauce.  I like to leave a bit of the shells peeking through.

Peek-a-boo.

I didn't even get to finish thawing this sauce, but used it as soon as I could chop it up with a fork.  Looks like a sauce flavored snow cone.

It will all melt in the oven. Frozen
or otherwise.

Sadly, I didn't have enough Mattie's delicious sauce to go around for all the shells.  Which was also my motivation for using two pans, so I could keep some of it "pure."  I thought I had more, but I only had a pint instead of a quart, so I used what I had of the Mattie's for the smaller pan and searched for what I had in the cupboard for the bigger one.  Then I remembered this sauce that a friend told me about.  It's no Mattie's, please don't even try to compare, but it is tasty and would be just fine.

From Harris Teeter. A simple tomato basil blend.
Don't use a flavor that is overpowering.

You might not have caught it from above, but yes, I crumbled up half a dozen meatballs, you can make your own, and sprinkle them on top of the shells before you add the sauce.

A step back, I had put the meatballs down
before the sauce. Full disclosure.

Sprinkle the top with a little more Parmesan and the dish is complete.  I choose not to add more shredded cheese to the top because there is already plenty inside the shell.  Do not overcheese!  No telling what that kind of insanity that can ignite.

I felt like a food genius on this half homemade,
half deli bought dish.

And now for some more gratuitous photos.  What a dish!  I'm fairly certain I could print up a heck of a calendar with these.

Picture perfect shot.

Cover with foil and bake at 350 degrees for one hour.  And now I'll tell you a little story.



Well wrapped for the journey.


Against my better judgement, but something I clearly disregarded, I thought Megan and I could go for a 45 min walk and burn off some calories before it was dining time.  I am very familiar with all the trails around where I live because I've gone up and down them for years now.  However (that word is always the first sign of trouble), I made a slight error in judgement that particular day.

On the way back from a brisk 35 minute trip I said to my friend (a term that may not hold true in a few short paragraphs from now), "We can either go back early... OR there is a path just ahead that is another 10 minutes and will give us the full 45."  Ever the one for a good workout, Megan quickly agreed that was a fine idea and she was on board.  (Does that mean I get to put some of the blame on her?)

I'm not exactly sure what went wrong, probably all our gabbing, but I missed the turn.  And when we finally did turn, we were several more minutes away from home than I wanted to be.  I never didn't know where we were, because I am intimately familiar with the whole area.  We were just farther away than I had planned.  And we had precious, amazing food in the oven to get back to.  SHOOT!!  THE OVEN!  I wasn't up for a run at all seeing as I was mostly spent by this point on a super fast walking pace for 45 minutes, but the idea that my condo might catch on fire and dinner could be burned to coal was a miraculous motivator.  I somehow found the unexpected energy to beat feet and quick like.  Just like the little piggy, I ran all the way home.  (Megan in tow.)

We hit the trail through the woods, that was getting dark and Megan clearly was not so much happy with me.  But having been raised in the country, a little darkness didn't frighten me in the least.  Flames destroying my kitchen while my stove melted into a pile of liquid goo, now that scared me to death.  I bounded up the stairs to my condo, flung open the door with super human strength, raced to the oven in record time and everything... was perfectly fine.  Just see below:

You couldn't ask for better.  All my drama
was unnecessary, except it did
make for a heck of a nice story.

I would like to attribute this success in large part to the Le Creuset stoneware.  I told you it cooks evenly and doesn't burn, so now you have the ultimate proof.  User acceptance tested and all points passed.  (You can tell I work in computers.)

Now that is a big pan of reward for extra 
exercising, served up hot.

I also have to note the stove was on a low cooking temperature for the hour we were away, so I don't think there was any real risk in burning it. (She says so confidently now that she's home safe and enjoying a glass of wine and guiltless eating due to surprise extra calorie burning from frenetic run.)

The wine the Aussie sold me.
I couldn't resist!

A little warmed up eggplant Parmesan on the plate as well and it was a carbolicious dream come true.

I think I fit in three shells before I was full. 
Megan brought bread too. Darn that Megan!

Good news: Megan is still my friend.  (I think.)  I may have made her run ragged when she hadn't planned on it, but she was grateful for the extra hard workout which made up for the extra helping of stuff shells she couldn't resist having.  What can I say?  Different things motivate each one of us.  Lucky for me, I have a friend who values the same things I do.  We all need a friend like that!