stacey . smoore . the staceyfish . 
Life in a Northern Town: the exploits of an ecstatic Alaskan
Lens: the adventures of a girl and her camera
Ok, seriously - does anyone actually cook the day after Thanksgiving??? Who isn't sick of the inside of their kitchen by then? And aren't the contents of your refrigerator quick to take away any reason for one to turn on the stove (except to reheat leftovers, of course)?
Well, I'll admit it: I wasn't as kitchen-adverse this Friday as I have been in the past. Nevertheless, I wasn't about to actually cook anything for lunch. The last thing I wanted was a plain turkey sandwich - I was craving something healthy (no surprise there, given the gluttony that took place the day before) and even though my Thanksgiving table is laden with far more veg than most (without having to resort to green bean casserole! Boo-yah!), I didn't want to just nosh on leftovers. I'm all about re-inventing last night's food whenever I get a chance, and when I spied the unused greens in my fridge that didn't quite get turned into a salad with poached pears, candied nuts, gorgonzola, and homemade balsamic vinaigrette, I had my inspiration.
I scooped the spinach into a bowl, tore off chunks of turkey breast, added some leftover roasted butternut squash, topped it off with some juicy pomegranate seeds and toasted pecans, and finished it with a drizzle of shallot-cacao nib vinaigrette that had graced the roasted squash the night before.
Chances are you don't have those exact ingredients on hand the day after Thanksgiving unless you stole my menu, but no worry, there are plenty of ways to make your own. Try using homemade cranberry sauce instead of pomegranate seeds or perhaps some roasted brussels sprouts or cauliflower instead of the squash. The point is that you're only limited by your imagination. Unless you're like me and you've already transformed your turkey leftovers into a steaming pot of delicious soup, chances are you still have plenty of food on hand with which to make your own creation. So go nuts and go fix yourself a salad while you're waiting for me to get to the really good stuff: the Thanksgiving menu, plenty of food porn, and bread that flowed continually from the oven!
I've never been a big fan of rice. The way Americans do it is just so... blah. Brown rice suffers even more than the typical white rice. Some inspiration is needed, and fast!
We're not going to even talk about boxed products like Rice A Roni - all I can taste is chemicals, and if you're daring enough to face the three-inch list of ingredients, you'll find MSG or its precursors. Yuck! Many people have tried to liven up rice by adding chicken broth or stock, but this too is problematic. If you use commercial broth, you're left with something unpalatably salty. If you use homemade stock, the gelatin interacts with the grains somehow, leaving a gross, sticky mess that is incapable of absorbing all of its cooking liquid. I have tried many, many times to find a good water-to-stock ratio that will flavor the rice but won't leave it gummy and waterlogged but have failed every time. Clearly, another approach is in order.
First off, I gave up any hope in making plain brown rice interesting. I needed to infuse some other flavors, and fast. So one day at a local health food store, I parked myself in front of the bulk bins and started picking and choosing some different grains to make my rice more interesting and more textured. I was very happy with my chosen blend - brown rice, wild rice, wheat berries, and rye berries - because it definitely had more flavor and it had a marvelous toothiness to it, but I still wanted more.
To find something suitable, I took my cue from a land where rice is actually a staple grain, figuring that they, of all people, would know how to make it interesting. I settled upon some inspiration from spiced Indian rice dishes that I love so well and opted for a pilaf that begins with whole spices. This, too, was better, but it still needed something more. Little by little, I whittled my way down to the solution, adding and subtracting things, until last night, I finally hit upon a solution I loved. Even The Hubs liked it! At long last, rice - and most especially, healthy brown rice - has been delivered from tasteless purgatory.
As I mentioned in the previous entry, since moving to Tucson, Cory and I have really gotten into grilling our dinners. I'm enamored of the ease of it all - after so long of being confined to a kitchen in a cold climate, making fairly elaborate meals, it's a relief to so some basic prep work and then hand off the food to Cory to cook it. The wonderful part is that we're not sacrificing any flavor or quality with the method.
Fish is our protein of choice as often as we can get it - not as easy as it sounds in the middle of the Sonoran Desert. Cory and I started enumerating our favorite fish tonight over dinner, and it turns out that Cory's favorite happen to be one his plate. We got especially hooked on it when we were in Hawaii a year and a half ago because, really, does it get any better than when it's fresh off the boat, raw, and prepared in a poke? If you can't get it that way, it's best prepared simply, with as little cooking as possible.
With that in mind, we set out to create something yummy that would complement not only the flavor of the fish itself but also the memories of our time on the Island. What we whipped together tastes fresh and light, with just the right texture between the rare ahi and crispy slaw and the sweet and tart flavors brought in by the salsa and lime. The avocado ties it all together and just makes everything better, just like it always does. Enjoy the tacos with the grilled veggies and a chilled dry white wine to tie together a healthy and satisfying summer meal!
Click here for the recipe for "Ahi tuna tacos with grilled broccoli and peppers" »
Ain't life grand when you have the luxury of throwing a pizza in the oven on a Friday night? And isn't it even better when that pizza is homemade? We definitely hold by that line in our house.
I've always eschewed the line "Even when it's bad, it's still pizza" (quit rolling your eyes, I know that comes as no surprise whatsoever if you've even spent two minutes reading this blog) and I take great joy in making every component for my pizza that I can. Really, it's the only way you know you're going to get a good one.
I love to use pesto as a base for pizza, especially in the summer. Few things give me more pleasure than shearing my basil plants (Fred has recovered from his confined-to-a-pot days and is loving all the room he has to stretch his roots, for those of you who had met him when he wasn't looking so hot), bringing the green stuff inside, and pulling the leaves off the stems. It fills the kitchen with a wonderful aroma!
The only problem with fresh pesto is that it's really easy to overdo it on the garlic, especially if you're like me and habitually triple - at a minimum - the amount of the tasty stuff called for in a recipe. Luckily, I ran across a technique with which you toast the unpeeled garlic cloves on the stove to mellow out that bite it's known for. It works like a charm and I no longer have to work about whether or not I'm going to OD on garlic. You just have to make sure to toast up enough so that you have extra to put on top of the pizza!
The only thing left to do is to load it up with other high-quality ingredients. Once you've done all of this, you'll have created a pizza night to remember!
I've really been grappling with what to call this particular recipe. In fact, my indecision has been so crippling that it's prevented me from posting this dish for close to two months. For all intents and purposes this is a chicken salad, but the last thing I want you to think of when you hear the title is mayo-and-egg-laden typical chicken salad because this bears about as much resemblance to the American picnic classic as, well, a nice Cabernet to Boone's Farm.
So for lack of inspiration (I guess I used all my inspiration on actually developing the recipe) I have dubbed it Not Yer Mama's Chicken Salad. Like I said, you won't find mayo or relish or eggs here. Rather, you'll find a tangy, refreshing, and light mustard and kalamata olive dressing over marinated chicken, complemented by texture provided by napa cabbage and radicchio. Stuff it in a warm pita, serve it atop a bed of lettuce and wild rice, put it aside pita chips as a dip, or, possibly best of all, serve it in between two slices of homemade olive-rosemary bread. Whatever you choose, prepare to take your taste buds on a adventure!
Click here for the recipe for "Not Yer Mama's Chicken Salad" »
I've been waiting to post this recipe for quite some time.
You see, you might call this dish Highly Significant.
It's so significant that I often find myself asking if Cory and I would have gotten married if it were not for this recipe.
It's one of the first things we ever cooked together, and from the point that we starting smooshing up those tomatoes with our hands, it was painfully apparent that we were meant to be.
We still cook up a batch of chicken cacciatore every time we're together. I thought it was criminal that he didn't have a copy of the recipe or The Joy of Cooking, so when he moved into his current apartment I bought him a copy the newly released 75th anniversary edition as a housewarming gift. Before I bought it for him I made sure that the recipe hadn't gotten the axe and was included in that version, but when we brought it home and we inspected it more closely we found that it calls for diced canned tomatoes, not whole tomatoes that you crush with your hands. On that alone, I've basically panned the whole edition. It's not worth buying! Find the 1997 edition! That older recipe helped Cory and I find love, and I who am I to deny anyone else that opportunity by recommending an inferior tome?
I'm going to admit upfront: my version of the classic Italian chicken is so not traditional. Every recipe I've ever seen and everyone else who's ever served it to me - including places in Italy - call for chicken parts, not chicken breasts, but when I was first learning to cook I had no clue what the heck a chicken part was. Even if I had been savvy enough, I simply didn't have the equipment to cut up a chicken and then cook it. So maybe it's for the best that I've bastardized it. I still think it's delicious, and it has the health benefits of being all-white meat.
Not everything about this recipe is 100% positive though. There is something about chicken cacciatore that makes living alone an especially bitter pill to swallow. This dish is so obviously meant to be cooked with people and then shared with people. That alone explains two of my behaviors: I always call Cory when I'm starting to crush up those tomatoes with my hands and tell him that I wish he was there with me, and whenever I'm cooking for a group people for the first time, this is the recipe I pull out. It's just too good to not share with others. It's not just the end result that's important, it's the whole process - from the first time you throw the onions and herbs in the pan and the fragrance makes everyone exclaim with delight to the times when the pan is in a long simmer and you can just sit around and enjoy the company of your companions to the first bite of that warm, earthy, wine-herbs-and-tomato chickeny goodness. Nothing says "I care" like chicken cacciatore.
There are some days at work that are just way to hectic for me to break away for a bit, drive home, and prepare a delicious meal.
Luckily, I have this recipe, and I can make a delicious, healthy meal at work.
I have a feeling I'm not the only one who's occasionally too busy to get the much needed lunch respite, so in honor of all of us eat-at-our-deskers, I present this, a throughly modern, healthy, and delicious version of the typical American baked potato.
If you're like me, that previously mentioned russet potato (a starchy root whose super-nutritious skins are largely discarded), piled high with butter (artery clogger #1), cheese (A.C. #2), sour cream (A.C. #3), bacon (A.C. #4) and chives (woah, an innocuous one managed to get in there) is pretty unappealing. Try this take instead: a yam (not candied, but left in its pure fiber- and vitamin-rich form), piled with tangy plain yogurt (pretty healthy, especially when compared to sour cream), cumin (a wonderful spice), and rosemary (another fantastic flavor). See, the beauty of this lunch is that not only is it as easy and quick to prepare as the four-fold artery clogger, it's much more flavorful because you use herbs and spices and not lots of animal fat on a root veggie that already has plenty of flavor on its own. (Quick note: yes, that is a jar of ground cumin - I buy most of my spices whole but I go through cumin so fast that I don't take issue with buying it ground. I do keep whole cumin on hand, but for a quick, easy recipe like this it's just easier to take the shortcut.)
And I must admit it: I'm a sucker for the yogurt, cumin, and rosemary blend. I first ran across it in middle eastern lamb spread I make around Easter and for some reason it just works with the yam. And really, with fresh, flavorful ingredients like this, what's not to love? Unless, of course, you count the glares of envy that your Lean Cuisine-reheating officemates will be shooting you when they smell the lunch you're walking around with.
Click here for the recipe for "Baked yam with middle eastern flavors" »
Growing up, I never quite understood why chicken noodle soup was supposed to be such great comfort food. Then again, all I had had back then were Campbell's or otherwise canned versions, and frankly, I think it would be more comforting to be beaten up with a can of soup than it would be to eat that not-very-chickeny-really-freakin'-salty-and-gross stuff.
But then I remembered my Mom's famous turkey soup. It wasn't so different from a chicken noodle soup, yet it was infinitely tastier. Maybe there was hope for this much-maligned recipe after all...
I first tried my hand at a, well, decidedly modern take on the stuff that I found in the Mayo Clinic cookbook. It had a chicken stock and soy milk base with edamame in the soup, and well.... it was weird. I didn't like it. But then.... last winter I was just getting into making my own stock and had had wild success with using it as the base for soups - even with recipes I had panned when I had made them with commercial chicken broth (forgive me, for I knew not what I had done). So I got to thinking that maybe it was time to give chicken noodle soup another shot, and this time I was determined to give it a fair shot.
Disillusioned by my first disaster with the stuff, I swore off recipes and struck off on my own. Amazingly, I hit paydirt on my first try. I had stumbled upon the First Law of Soups (anything made with a homemade stock is guaranteed to not be bland, boring, or disgusting) and the Second Law of Soups (always cook your noodles or grains in the stock).
Unfortunately, stock tends to burn a hole in my freezer. I just can't keep the stuff on hand, I use it as soon as I make it. If I do happen to have some in there, I'm usually saving it for something specific. But tonight I found myself with quarts and quarts of it in my freezer, even above and beyond what I will need for my upcoming minestrone soup. I also just so happened to have the salvaged chicken from my last pot of stock handy, and I realized that once again, this soup's time had come. I mean, it's been a tough week. I could use some comfort food. Thankfully, I've finally found a way for this time-honored classic to actually be comforting.
Click here for the recipe for "Actually comforting chicken noodle soup" »
I'll tell you a dirty little secret:
Alaskans eat Rudolph.
And he is delicious.
There are lots of things that one can do with reindeer sausage, like serving it as an appetizer, putting it in a soup, or... eating it with breakfast! My favorite way to have this particular bit of Alaskan fare is in an omlet or breakfast scramble. This is a great way to use the stuff you have in your pantry and vegetable drawer and makes a satisfying savory breakfast that will leave you smacking your lips, savoring the deliciousness. In fact, it's a variation of what I call my pantry scramble because it's something delicious you can make without having to make a special shopping trip for it. Because it's so convenient and delicious, I always make this when I have overnight visitors.
If you don't have reindeer sausage where you live, I suppose you could substitute another ingredient in (after all, this is a pantry scramble, it's made of whatever you happen to have on hand) like chicken or a different type of breakfast meat. Which brings to mind that one of the joys of this dish is that it will be different every time you make it.
Like so many other things worth eating, once you've had homemade salad dressing you can't go back.
I learned this lesson when I made my first batch of balsamic vinaigarette. When you buy this stuff off the shelf, it's overly sweet, oily, bland, and one-dimensional tasting. But when you make it yourself, it's wonderfully assertive, bold but not overpowering, subtle, and complex.
Plus it's super-easy to make.
Are you sold yet? Seeing the stuff in action ought to do the trick....
There are so many reasons to love this recipe. Allow me to extol its virtues and enumerate a bit:
1. It's easy to prepare and it cooks quickly.
2. Substitutions and additions are definitely encouraged.
3. It's delicious and nutritious.
4. It smells fantastic as it cooks.
5. It's a great way to use seasonal produce.
6. The medley looks exactly like fall foliage.
Seriously, this is one of the best things I've made all autumn (I don't care that it was 19 degrees this morning, it's still autumn to me!). If you're looking at the list and you think that you don't like some of the ingredients (I'm reminded of a friend who would without fail exclaim "Beets are HIDEOUS!" when offered them), try them in this recipe. Some of them (like beets) have a totally different flavor and texture when roasted than they do when, say, boiled. Or when mashed with marshmallows (and that's why I thought sweet potatoes were gross for twenty-two years!). Other ingredients, like shallots, will never cease to surprise you with their delicious, delicate, and sophisticated flavor and the way they seem to melt when they hit your tongue. And still others that weren't included this time around, like butternut squash, would be truly divine.
Click here for the recipe for "Roasted fall vegetable medley" »
I've always been a breakfast person. Not really in the way that many other Americans are, where they like lots of eggs and bacon and other really unhealthy and non-nutritious foods, but more in the way that I like to get something healthy in my tummy that will stick with me until my mid-morning snack. This is sufficiently different, versatile, receptive to substitutions, and, of course, yummy, to meet all of my needs. They do take longer to cook than their gloppy rolled cousin, so I cook a week's worth at a time and reheat as I need it. Nowadays it's impossible to open my fridge without finding a massive batch of these oats, just waiting for their turn to be consumed.
And just look at them! It's easy to see why!
Click here for the recipe for "Indulgent Irish oatmeal with berries" »
Be careful: homemade chicken stock is another one of those "you can never go back" recipes.
I remember a little over a year ago, I made minestrone soup for the first time. It's one of my favorite soups, but I couldn't understand why it was so..... blase. Despite the fact I had used fresh ingredients and used the proper technique, it wasn't worth making again, and I stuck with my usual soup staple, Provencal Vegetable Soup.
About a year later I was having some friends over for an Italian night - caprese salad, various pastas with homemade sauces, and affogatos. Something was missing and (being ignorant of the traditional Italian primi and secondi) I decided to add in minestrone soup.
So I tried again. Talk about night and day! It was like the first batch I had made was anti-minestrone and if the two batches had ever met they would have annihilated each other. The only difference? The fantasmagorically delicious minestrone was made with homemade stock instead of commercial chicken broth.
Every recipe I've used with this stock has sung with flavor. Why? That flavor comes from tons of fresh ingredients and no salt. It's a recipe that I've adapted from more traditional chicken stock recipes to fit the way I cook. I roast a bird one week, save the carcass, skin, and fond and after I roast another bird the next week I combine the two carcasses with any leftover meat and tons of aromatics. This way I'm getting maximum use out of those chickens with minimal waste.
And it is so worth it!
