Tacos & Guacamole

First, I would like to apologize for having not updated my blog in several weeks.  As I was frantically finishing finals, I realized that I would get a break from blogging as well as school.  One of the many benefits of my summer job is that I frequently get to enjoy the cooking of the skilled chefs of McAlisters, Qdoba, and the always wonderful University of Wyoming Washaike Dinning Center; hence, I will not be doing much cooking this summer.  However, during finals week that thought got lost among the psychoanalytic thoughts of Edgar Allen Poe and the curious and bizarre wanderings of Walt Whitman, instead of making it into my blog.

Anyway, this past week I was able to do a bit of cooking.  I have probably consumed more tacos in my life than any other single entree, but for some reason I always get random taco cravings.  In one of the books I am reading, the author claims that many of our adult desires are grounded in unmet needs from childhood.  However, I can guarantee that I never was lacking for tacos as a child.  If I should desire anything, it would be lasagna  because my mother thought the whole process a bit to putzy (see the lasagna post for the whole story).  

In a rare spirit of creativity, I decided that instead of buying a taco seasoning pack, I would season the tacos from my own spices.  I did, however, read the back of the seasoning pack in Wal-mart to see what it included.  As the meat was simmering, I gradually began to add cumin, paprika, and a bit of oregano to the mix.  I also mixed up some guacamole, and flavored it with cumin, paprika, red pepper, salt and pepper.  The guacamole turned out great, and I resolved to never buy a guacamole packet again.  The taco meat, however, was a different story.

Living in Wyoming, I have the benefit of having lots of acquaintances who hunt and share their meat.  I thought that I had taken the "wild" out of cooking "wild game," since most of my other recipes have turned out alright.  However, cooking ground game was a different story.  At home, I was always raised to drain the ground beef after cooking it; but after cooking the ground elk, I was wishing I could add fat to it.  Generally when I have a kitchen disaster, I simply add more cumin to the recipe because I not only love the taste of cumin, but also it's ability to overpower just about any other flavor.  However, cumin met its match with my tacos.  Cumin many conquer taste, but it cannot conquer dryness.

So as I sit here on night number four eating dog food rolled in a tortilla,  looking at at least another two nights of tacos in my tupperware container, I wonder if the luxury of eating Panda Express at work is, at times, a hindrance.  If I wouldn't have gotten free lunch all week, then I would have been done with these tacos three days ago.

Curry: Take Two

As I look back on this rapidly concluding semester, I feel that my cooking skills have come a long way.  In fact, I would even go so far to say as most of my food is more than edible—sometimes it even tastes good.  However, as a college student, I don’t frequent too many other food venues, so I mainly end up eating my own cooking, or the free pizza you can get from Little Casers when they close (all you need to go is go out back by the dumpster and wait for the employees to bring out the extra pizza).   Normally it is not an issue to only eat my own cooking, after all, I don’t think it is too unbearable (although I did feed the last serving of my steak fajitas to Dakota).  However, after making an Easter visit to Tyler’s parents’ house last weekend, I realized a downfall of eating your own cooking.

Whenever you only eat you own cooking, or only eat someone else’s cooking, you don’t always know what you’re missing.  After eating pork roast cooked in a perfect blend of Italian spices, loads or real mashed potatoes, honey-smoked ham, lemon bread dripping with power-sugar glaze, and homemade pumpkin pie, you realize that you are not all that great of a cook. 

So as I sit here, eating what has so far been my most flavorful recipe, I am deeply aware of how much progress I still need to make.  But that’s ok with me.  Because if I had mastered cooking in one semester, I would not longer need to keep a cooking blog; and then I could no longer provide a way for you to procrastinate on your homework any longer.  Here’s to ignoring that paper for five more minutes.

Steak Salad

I cannot wait for the day when I can just throw together a recipless meal with whatever inhabits my cabinet.  Tonight, I came close.  I had some idea running threw my head about different meals I want to make this week—like curry and stir fry.  However, despite the fact I seem to frequent a grocery store at least every other day, I can never seem to get all the ingredients together.  Just before I cooked dinner, I went to Safeway (for the second time today), but did I manage to get the Worchester sauce for the marinade I wanted to make?  Of course not; I had forgotten my wallet.  I could have asked Tyler to get it for me, but I couldn’t even remember if Worchester sauce was what that I needed.  Instead, I watched Ty spend $10 on Dr. Pepper and four boxes of Gushers. 

I went home to a cabinet full of mismatched ingredients, which my mind hopelessly tried to piece together to create a flavorful dinner.  Curry, stir fry, and stew all passed through my mind, but alas, I was missing at least one key ingredient for each.  Since I didn’t want to trek to Safeway for a third time, I improvised with a very simple meal.  I made a steak salad (since I wanted to eat a dinner filled with alliteration).  I didn’t know how to flavor the steak, so I put the two vanguards of spices, salt and pepper, and then on a whim, I added some cumin because it is my favorite spice.  Paired with spinach and carrots, the dinner was better the alternative—Ramen.    

White Chicken Chili

While most of my peers have spent their adolescent lives texting their parents, my parents never had texting.  And while that saved me getting the constant “check in text” from my parents, at times, I wished I could have texted my parents simple questions such as “Do I claim a 1 or a 0 on my W4 form?”  Had my parents had texting ability to answer these short questions for me, many disasters could have been avoided, like last year when I ended up owing $300 dollars because I claimed “1” instead of “0.”    Needless to say, when my parents got texting last week, I was ecstatic.   And their texting abilities came in handy, especially because I knew there was no room for failure when making this recipe. 

After a long debate with my roommate and my mom, I decided to make White Chicken Chili as my debut recipe.  For the first time in my newly sprouted adult life, I was cooking for a group of people, and I did not want to ruin my own coming out party.

At Wal-mart, however, I realized I didn’t know what butter beans and great northern beans were.  I stood dumbly in the bean aisle, desperately searching for ingredients that the small, selective Wyoming Wal-mart might not carry.  I knew it was too late to call my mom, it was well past 10pm in Wisconsin.  But then I realized I could text her to see if she was awake.  I sent a quick text, and moments later the slight humming of my phone alerted me to my mom’s message, which read, “I don’t know. Google it.” Impressed that my mom was still up and had such a rapid response, I really didn’t care that she didn’t know.  After some more searching, I finally found them on the top shelf, hiding from their 5’ 2’’ buyers.    

After the brief Wal-mart incident, the chili making went off without a problem.  I didn’t even cry much when I cut the onions.  I did go a little over board on the cumin—but it’s hard to be lenient when using your favorite spice, and it did give the chili a “nice kick,” as girls described it when the ate it the following evening.    

Finally, I have decided that I am going to be rating each dish because I do not have the vocabulary or food expertise to accurately describe what I cook.

Time Commitment: 30 minutes (experienced) 1 hour (me)

Overall Taste: 6 on a scale of 1 (horrible) to 10 (great)

Presentation: 2 on a scale of 1 (horrible) to 10 (great).  This chili had a funny yellow color….

Difficulty: 3 on a scale of 1 (easy) to 10 (difficult)

Ingredients:

1.       1 tablespoon vegetable oil

2.       2 medium onions, chopped (1 cup)

3.       2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

4.       3 cups chicken broth

5.       2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

6.       2 tablespoons lime juice

7.       1 teaspoon ground cumin

8.       ½ teaspoon dried oregano

9.       ¼ teaspoon red pepper sauce

10.   ¼ teaspoon salt

11.   1 can (15oz) great northern beans

12.   1 can (11oz) white shoepeg corn

13.   1 can (15 oz) butter beans

14.   2 cups cooked chicken breast

Directions

1.       In 4-quart Dutch oven, heat oil over medium heat.  Cook onions and garlic in oil 4-6 minutes until tender.

2.       Stir in remaining ingredients except chicken.  Heat to boiling; reduce heat. Simmer uncovered 20 minutes. Stir in chicken; simmer about 5 minutes.  

Steak Fajitas

As I handed her the plate of sizzling steak fajitas, Annie commented, “I have so you well trained.  I have you cooking for me now just like Tony does at home.”  Well I am sure the comment was comically well-intended, I am not sure my smile hid my exhaustion.  It was about 9pm, and Annie and were finally getting to dinner (with Annie doing the relaxing and me doing the cooking).  Not that I minded too much, I rather like cooking late at night.  Since discovering my chai tea recipe, I make it at least twice a week.  However, the steak fajitas presented a different challenge then mixing milk and tea bags to make chai.  I can’t seem to cook steak right.  Annie told me to put the burner moderately high and sear the meat for a few minutes both sides.  Even though I follow her directions, the meat seems to get too tough and rather tasteless.  These fajitas had a good marinade over then, but that didn’t save the steak from the frying pan and my cooking abilities. 

The first night when I cooked the fajitas they were decent considering the meat was overdone.  However, I had marinated a lot of meat for the fajitas, and I am not affected with over exaggeration when I say a lot.  I ate overdone steak fajitas for a week.  The last few servings were eaten only because my mom engrained a strong sense in eating leftovers in me, and unfortunately, my dad isn’t in Laramie to clean up the leftovers I don’t want.  Three years after leaving home, I am still finding things that I miss about it, and after the steak fajitas incident, I really missed my dad’s tolerant taste buds.  However, without my dad, I had a chance to be innovate and find a new “garbage disposal” that wouldn’t make me feel guilty about wasting food.  Turns out it wasn’t hard to find.  I just looked down into the most beautiful brown eyes that had long ago perfected the art of begging that labs are so well known for.  Dakota got more than one table scrap that night. 

Ingredients:

1.       Marinade (see below)

2.       1 ½ lb beef boneless top sirloin steak, 1 ½ inches thick

3.       2 large onions, sliced

4.       2 medium green or red bell peppers, cut

5.       2 tablespoons vegetable oil

6.       12 flour tortillas

7.       1 jar picante sauce

8.       1 cup Monterey Jack cheese

9.       1 ½ cups guacamole

10.   ¾ cups sour cream

Ingredients for Marinade

1.       ½ cup vegetable oil

2.       ¼ cup red wine vinegar

3.       1 teaspoon sugar

4.       1 teaspoon oregano

5.       1 teaspoon chili powder

6.       ½ teaspoon garlic powder

7.       ½ teaspoon salt

8.       ¼ teaspoon pepper

1.       In a small bowl, make marinade by combing all ingredients.

2.       Place beef in a resealable plastic bag or glass dish.  Pour marinade over beef; turn beef to coat with marinade. Cover and refrigerate at least 8 hours but no longer than 24 hours

3.       Cook beef either by grilling or on stovetop.  If on stovetop, cook with onions, peppers, and vegetable oil. 

4.       Heat oven to 325 degrees.  Wrap tortillas in foil.  Heat in oven about 15 minutes

5.       Build your own fajita (I hope I don’t actually have to write out this process like the book took a paragraph to do.  If you can’t figure out how to build your fajita and fold the tortilla, you probably shouldn’t be making this recipe.  Don’t feel offended, I am just saving you time and frustration).  

Hurry Curry Chicken

The beauty of the 911 system is that someone always picks up.  The dispatcher will always send help, even if you’ve done something stupid like starting your kitchen on fire with the towel that caught flame when you took out the pizza (which almost happened to me).  Regardless of the caller’s stupidity, the dispatcher is always there and will always send help.  I wish that I could say the same for my “911” system.

My “911” system is on speed dial, since I use it frequently.  However, I wouldn’t have quite so many calls logged to my mother if she would pick up everything I called.  And if she doesn’t pick up, I have to shuffle through my next “911” alternatives, my dad and my home phone, before I get to a reliable dispatcher, my sister, who will pick up the phone even if she is driving a stick shift through downtown Minneapolis during rush hour while drinking coffee (which she had done with me in the car). 

Fortunately, I didn’t have to go through my alternative options because my first dispatcher picked up.  When I called my mom, my curry looked more like chicken curry soup than chicken curry.  I tried to boil away the water to thicken the curry sauce, but, according to my mom, while boiling normally does thicken sauces, sauces that are yogurt based (like this one), only get more watery the more you boil them.  Immediately, I pulled the curry off the burner, and thought that we were going to have soup for dinner.  However, my mom and my roommates began to spew out a list of redemptive ideas.

Staring at my curry soup, with everyone talking at me, I could feel my stress level rise.  I don’t deal well with external stress, such as loud noises and crowds, because I generate more than enough internal stress for myself to handle.  That’s probably why I have adjusted so well to living in Wyoming—its endless tracts of emptiness inhabited only by antelope and the occasional person, creates little opportunity for external stress.  If you have ever driven the 120 mile stretch between Douglas and Gillette, you understand what I mean.  But the kitchen, at the moment, was far from the empty, exhaustive, fields of sage brush and antelope; everyone was loudly talking, trying to redeem the curry with cornstarch and water.  Unable to deal with the pressing external forces, I focused in on the curry, the only thing in the room that was quite and still, and realized that slowly, on its own, it was beginning to solidify.  Turns out I forgot a cooking rule: that once cooled, sauces tend to solidify.  So with everyone talking and freaking out, I grabbed a fork and dug into the wonderful curry. 

Ingredients:

½ 2.25 lb. pkg. Chicken Breast

1 tbsp olive or vegetable oil

1 tsp. paprika

½  tsp. salt and pepper

1 8oz container plain yogurt

½ cup low fat mayo

½ cup chopped onion

½ cup raisins

1 tbsp. curry powder

1 tsp ginger

Rice

1. In skillet, combine oil, paprika, salt, pepper, heat and add chicken cubes.  Cook over medium heat for  

    about 15 min, stirring occasionally until chicken begins to brown and juices run clear. 

2. Meanwhile, in small bowl, combine yogurt, mayo, onions, raisins, curry, ginger and mix.

3. Add yogurt mixture to chicken, stir and cook for 3 to 4 minutes or until bubbly and heated through. 

Naan

Besides Chai, my other favorite Indian staple is naan, a grilled flatbread similar to a pita or tortilla.  Naan is an excellent accompaniment to Spicy Chicken in Peanut Sauce, curry, or anything else that tastes better with white, unhealthy carbohydrates wrapped around it.   I even considered resurrecting my hummus recipe that I so miserably failed at making earlier this semester.  However, Hannah has wanted to make curry for a while, so we are going to make that instead of reliving my painful hummus experience (the curry recipe will be posted on Friday). 

My dough stared back at me with a definite look as it relentlessly flaked and fell apart despite my kneading, as if to remind me of my own incompetence to perform a simple task.   As I slowly kneaded the defiance out, the simple, redundant processes of pushing, turning, pushing, turning, make me thinking reminded me of how far removed I am from the rest of the world.  Possessing the ability to cook is unnecessary for me.  I could easily eat out every night or put the food industrial’s latest frozen concoction in my microwave.  However, for many women, cooking represents much more than a hobby they can dabble in.  For many, cooking equates to a survival skill, both for physical and social survival.  For centuries, it has been expected that women cook, and these social expectations cannot be thrown without repercussions.  

Looking at my crumbling dough, I wonder if I could ever survive in that culture where cooking is necessary, even if I was raised learning the intricacies of cooking.  Although some people will argue that I live a better life because I am separated from the entrapment of domesticity, while I do not necessarily disagree with them, I also feel that cooking is still often negatively equated with patriarchal control.  Cooking is a survival skill, and if people only know how to order at Applebee’s or put Marie Calendar in the microwave, haven’t they lost something?  Isn’t it a bit strange that as American’s, we no longer have to possess a skill that, on a fundamental level, is necessary for us to remain alive?  If we lose touch with our basic needs and skills, does that mean we are losing touch with our humanity?    

Recipe: http://allrecipes.com//Recipe/naan/Detail.aspx