Monday, November 23, 2009

30 and counting.....Vegetarian Green Bean Casserole

A heartfelt thank you to everyone who has watched Food Network Challenge: Thanksgiving Family Feast.  The response has been overwhelming.  I can honestly say that for my mom, Becca, and me, it has been one of the most fun and rewarding things we have ever done.  Who knew that those 3 days in Denver would turn out to be so amazing.  Forget Christmas, forget my birthday, I am a Thanksgiving girl forever more. 

Our recipes will appear hear over the next few days.  Make them your own and eat them in good health!  Happy Thanksgiving! 

VEGETARIAN GREEN BEAN CASSEROLE**
For the topping:
4 Leeks, thinly sliced
6 cups canola oil
For the casserole:
2 tbsp + 1tsp of kosher salt
1 lb fresh green beans, washed, ends snapped, halved
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
12 oz crimini mushrooms, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
¼ tsp nutmeg
1 cup vegan ‘no-chicken’ stock
1 cup soymilk creamer
Preheat oven to 475 degrees

Topping: Heat 6 cups of canola oil. Deep fry leeks until golden brown and crispy.  Drain on paper towel and set aside.

Casserole:  Bring 1 gallon of water and the 2 tbsp of salt to a boil in a large saucepan.  Blanch beans for 5 minutes.  Drain and place in ice water bath to stop cooking.  Drain again and set aside for later.

In a large skillet, heat 2 tbsp of olive oil over med-high heat.  Sautee mushrooms, 1 tsp of salt and pepper, stirring occasionally for 5 minutes.  Add minced garlic and nutmeg.  After a few minutes, sprinkle 2 tbsp of flour over the mushroom mixture.  Stir and cook for another minute, then add ‘no-chicken’ stock.  Let simmer 1-2 minutes.  Turn the heat down to med-low and add soy half and half.  Let thicken, stirring occasionally, 8 or 9 minutes.  Remove the pan from heat and add a portion of the leeks, leaving enough to sprinkle over the top after baking (about ¼, as you like it)  Bake until bubbling, 15 minutes.  Remove from oven. 

Just before serving, sprinkle with remaining leeks.  (The leeks will be extremely ‘fragile’, so there is no need to bake them on top.  Feel free to make extra to have on hand to sprinkle as desired.)

**This is based on Alton Brown’s Best Ever Green Bean Casserole.  I vegg-ed it up and swapped his onions for leeks.  It really is fantastic.  You may never go back to the canned stuff!

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Happy Thanksgiving Family Feast, Food Network!

Back in June, I was laid off suddenly. I was told on Friday not to come back to work on Monday and in the frenzy of feared unemployment, I got online to look for anything I could possibly do (within reason) to make money. I stumbled on a posting for Food Network Challenge. They were looking for interesting Thanksgiving stories. I sent them the following email, and the rest is history:


Hello, Food Network Challenge! (I'm a big fan! The worst part, by far, is having to move those gigantic cakes to that darn judging table. Sheesh.) Here's my Thanksgiving story (pictures attached) :

When I was a kid, I remember getting into the car and trucking up to Culpeper or Flint Hill or Front Royal, Virginia to have Thanksgiving dinner with my great aunts and uncles on my Dad’s side, The Cooks. These dinners are all kind of a blur of Uncle Bob, who had a glass eye, several small dogs and cousins, and my Grandma & Granddaddy, whom I adored. There is a ‘famous’ picture of me as a tiny girl, sound asleep down my Granddaddy’s chest, while he’s reclined in a Lazyboy, watching the TV at one of these get-togethers.

As we grew older, we had Thanksgivings with my Mom’s side of the family and at our own home. We always ate at 2pm, sharp. I remember my brothers and sisters, disappearing every year to nap, leaving me to do the dishes. In the early 90’s, my parent’s divorced. From that point on, my siblings and I spent Thanksgivings mostly with Mom. One year we had a huge shrimp feast to break up the monotony.

I went off to college in Syracuse, New York, and made the trip home for Thanksgiving every year, driving 8 hours down Interstate 81 to eat with the fam. In 2001, I moved to New York City. I literally have not been home for Thanksgiving since. I have spent the holiday with friends, as we city-dwellers do, eating someone else’s version of turkey dinner. I have cooked for myself, my roommate at the time and her boyfriend, dinner for 3. (I think I cheated and made a chicken that year instead of attempting a turkey in our tiny 6 floor walk-up, where the kitchen, living room, and dining room were one in the same.) I spent a few with a long-time boyfriend’s family, eating Swedish variations on traditional T-day foods.

Two years ago, I moved to sunny Los Angeles with my younger sister, Becca. Thus began the Sisters Cook Thanksgiving Tradition. So far, Thanksgiving for us means green bean casserole (with the French’s Onions on top. Once, Becca ate half a can that I had reserved for the topping while I wasn’t looking.), mashed potatoes and gravy from scratch, and sweet potato soufflé. Our first year in LA, I made an herbed turkey breast. I have since become a vegetarian and my focus has shifted to the all important side dishes, attempting cornbread, homemade stuffing, salads, etc. And of course, we make pumpkin pie for dessert.

I make the green bean casserole, usually from canned green beans and canned mushroom soup. This year, I made Alton Brown’s AMAZING Best Ever Green Bean Caserole, and I will never go back! (It was a big hit.) I also make the mashed potatoes and gravy, using real butter, roasted garlic, and ‘no-chicken’ broth. Becca is in charge of sweet potatoes. She is the queen. It is her signature dish, one of the only things she can cook, and she always knocks it out of the park. The secret is in the whipping of the sweet potatoes (and in the enormous amount of marshmallows on top). We top it all off with canned cranberry sauce. I am fully capable of making the real deal, but Becca loves the shape and the amazing ‘Schlllllup’ sound it makes when it’s released from the can onto the plate. Who am I to deprive her of that?

Our first year in LA, it was just the two of us. Last year, we ate with our dear friends, the Caskeys. The point for us, food aside, is to be together. We are a little satellite branch of our big family, all the way out here in California. It can be very lonely to be so far from home, especially on holidays. But, we have each other, and that has proved to be our biggest blessing. One tradition we keep from our childhood Thanksgivings is to go around the table and say what we’re thankful for. I’ll tell you now, I am thankful for my sister and her willingness to jump in with me and create our own story, our own traditions. I’m also thankful that she’s around to eat the leftovers. Trust me, thanksgiving recipes don’t come small, we cook for two and eat for ten. Thank heavens, I don’t have to face it alone.

Thanks for your consideration!

Sincerely,

Sarah Cook, Older sister - The Sisters Cook

***The recipes from our episode will be posted this week.  Check back!

Sunday, October 25, 2009

30 and counting.....on God knows what.


Call it a good imagination.  Call it creative visualization.  Call it any ‘–ation’ you want, I have somehow backed myself into a corner here. 

I love a good gut instinct.  I love a sense of certainty.  Fate.  My God, if I had a dime for every silly poem I’d written between the ages of 15 and 17 about Fate, I would not have needed student loans.  I took 5 years of Latin.  The Three Fates were my favorite part of it all.

I have made big decisions based on the tugging of my gut.  I have suffered from going against her.  The times in my life when I’ve been most unhappy, I have known deep down inside that I was miserable because I wasn’t listening to what she was telling me. 

In the past, she led me to great things.  Love, success, opportunity.  However, as I’ve gotten older, and life has not presented me with all the things my gut said it would, I have begun to….supplement her whispers.  I have tried to take the reins myself. 

I have created a monster.

You name it; I can convince myself that I want it.  Not only do I want it, but I want it with the kind of bone-deep certainty that can only come from, you guessed it – Fate.  Long lost loves on foreign continents – go for it.  Move across the country, and back again – yes, brilliant idea.  Become a doctor, lawyer, Indian chief – it’s what was you were meant to do.  On an average morning’s commute, I am able to create the most perfect lives for myself.  I am so convincing that I can’t tell where reality ends and fantasy begins.  And when whatever I’ve convinced myself of doesn’t materialize it’s, ‘Oh, well. On to the next destiny, I’ve got plenty.’ 

Now, when I really need clarity based on fact and reason, there is no reason to speak of.  Who knows what I really want?  Who knows what’s right? 

I know what you'll say. You'll say, 'Don't be so hard on yourself.' ‘We’re all in the same boat.’ 'Go with the flow.'  'It’ll all work out in the end.’

Well friends, the one thing you can't say anymore is, 'Go with your gut.'  My gut has left the building. 




Thursday, October 8, 2009

30 and counting….verification nation.




  
When I post links to my blog, I have to type in one of those internet verification codes.  Usually I just hurriedly type the nonsense words and get on with my posting. 

Call it another way to procrastinate, call it too much time spent online; but, the day ‘trinity misdeed’ popped up in my security box, I started to pay attention. Just who writes these things?  ‘trinity misdeed’?  Is this a
Da Vinci Code reference?   ‘sandbank Mass’?  Does someone need a vacation? 

I began to picture a guy, large and clammy, bent over a desk littered with stacks and stacks of papers.  There are empty cups and coffee rings on every surface.  His shirt is yellowed with sweat and desperation.  It’s dim and dank with only a buzzing fluorescent tube for light.  Sweat beads on his upper lip as he mumbles to himself and relentlessly cranks out some sort of broken memoir/manifesto.  He’s more than just the CAPTCHA guy, damn it, he’s got something to say to the world. The following is a list of the insanity/inanity that has followed:

cherished debtor
herd maharishi’s
Gauguin Studio
aborted Maxwell
cubist lair
nonwhites penknife
loves lyme
Amanda at
Sylvia trip
shepherd cabin 
porcine Rosenblatt
gripping new

Based on my analysis, we are dealing with a fallen Catholic (‘trinity misdeed’, ‘herd maharishi’s’) art-loving racist (‘Gauguin Studio’/ ‘cubist lair’ + ‘nonwhites penknife’) anglophile (‘loves lyme’) who may or may not want to kill himself (‘Sylvia trip’=Sylvia Plath + ‘shepherd cabin’, i.e. heaven, as Jesus was a ‘shepherd’= possible self-harm, if you follow my logic).  I’m not even going to touch ‘aborted Maxwell.’  Is ‘porcine Rosenblatt’ a dig at a heavy-set Jewish boss? 

I’m sure that CAPTCHA’s are computer generated.  I’m sure that my sweaty recluse does not exist outside the walls of my procrastination fantasies.  Still, how can you re-type ‘untruth L.I’ and not take a moment to wonder……

*thank you, Erica.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

30 and counting....Recession Soup


It’s no secret that my sister and I live on a budget.  Dave Ramsey is something of an icon at our house.  So, as I’ve mentioned before, each week we head to the farmer’s market with our $20 allowance for vegetables and fruit.  Lately, we have been getting squash for $1/lb. All kinds of squash: zucchini, yellow squash, satellite squash, little Italian squash, you name it. 

The other night, due to budgetary constraints, I was faced with a few onions, a few cloves of garlic, and squash.  There was literally nothing else.  (Ok, there was peanut butter and one can of chick peas.  Not the most inspiring ingredients.)  What to do, what to do?  Sautéed squash all by itself didn’t seem like enough.  Turning the oven on seemed like a waste of time and energy.  Should we eat it raw?  No thank you, too sad.  So, with thoughts of the Great Depression and stone soup on my mind, I got out my biggest pot. 

First, I chose a large onion from the bunch and chopped it up.  Knowing that all good things start with an onion sweating in a pan, I threw them into the pot with a heaping tablespoon of olive oil.  Next, a clove of garlic.  Once the onions started to soften up, I threw in all the squash I had (about 2 lbs, chopped into manageable chunks).  I cooked the squash with the onions and garlic for longer than I normally would when making soup.  Since I didn’t have vegetable stock on hand, I didn’t want to have to boil too long with plain old water.  So, I cooked the squash until it was nice and soft, letting everything get a tiny bit of brown color even.  Finally, I poured in enough water to just cover the squash/onion mixture.  I added salt and pepper, covered it all, and let it boil for about 10 minutes.  I took it off the heat, and busted out the immersion blender.  I added 2 tsp of dry thyme to give the soup some sort of point of view, and I finished it off with a little more olive oil (about a tablespoon) to make it smooth and creamy without the cream. 

It was great.  We ate every bit.  Necessity is the mother of invention, as is poverty sometimes.  It probably cost about 3 bucks to make, total.  Thank god, because sometimes 3 bucks is all we have.  I’d be willing to bet you could make soup out of anything this way.  Water, onion, and a little ingenuity.  Ah, Recession Soup, food for the starving wallet. 


Ingredients:

1 large onion, chopped
1-2lbs squash (any variety), chopped into medium chunks
1 clove of garlic, chopped
Water to cover
Olive oil to sauté and finish
2tsp dry thyme
Salt and pepper to taste