Corn and Pablano Chowder

3 pablano peppers
2-3 cups of chicken stock
Butter
1 chopped up onion
5 cups of corn kernels
Sour cream

Put the peppers on baking sheet and broil in the oven. Turn them after the skin has gotten nice and black. Let cool, and then pull the skins off and de-seed. I heard on a show one time that, though it's tempting, one shouldn't wash the skins off in the sink. Washing them mutes the flavor. Whether this is true or not, I don't know. How would I know what the pepper would have tasted like otherwise?

Saute the onion in the butter. Add the corn, peppers, and chicken stock. Bring to a boil and then simmer until everything is tender.

Puree with an emersion blender. Serve with a big dollop of sour cream!

Sourdough Bread

Betty Crocker's Crusty Sourdough Bread for the Bread Machine

1 cup of sourdough starter
1/2 cup of warm water
3 cups of flour
2 tablespoons of sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons of salt
1 teaspoon of quick active dry yeast

Put ingredients in bread machine. Take bread out when beeper goes off.

Anarchist Homemaker's Crusty Sourdough Bread for the Bread Machine

I use the recipe above. But wait! I typically use a mix of whole wheat and unbleached white flour. The bread is denser, but who doesn't love roughage? Instead of sugar, I use turbinado or honey. Turbinado is less processed, therefore retains more nutrients. It also contains less calories, which I don't give a crap about, but it's a fun factoid nonetheless. Our sourdough starter is a bit of an heirloom, and I encourage anyone to find a good starter with some history. Not only does it taste better, but you can't help but think of its heritage as you slice a fresh loaf or enjoy a salty waffle. Ours came from Bryan's dad Bill who received a jar of starter in 1978 when he moved to Amarillo as a gift from a friend. We have honored this delicious legacy for four years now and have almost killed it several times, but those little buggers keep pluggin' away. Sometimes, they show their displeasure at our neglect by turning out a flat pancake, but even those are good... and the little dudes perk up after a nice meal of flour and milk.

Richard Packham has provided a wonderful resource for sourdough neophytes.

Yum-Ho

I wonder if my children will know who Betty Crocker was or if they'll say things like "Just call me Rachael Ray" when they've have a particularly successful day in the ol' cocina. I have nothing against Rachael Ray--I got one of my best recipes from her--except that I find her ubuiquity bizarre and unsettling. Why'd she have to become an empire? Why'd she have to have a talk show and a magazine in addition to two shows and a line of cookingware? It's only a matter of time until Yum-O is trademarked if it isn't already.

Of course, one should be reminded that Betty Crocker wasn't even a real woman. She was a brand invented by General Mills--reinvented several times as evidenced by the many incarnations of Betty. (In fact, in 1945, Fortune magazine named Betty Crocker as the second most popular woman in America behind Eleanor Rossevelt.) I guess that there's not much difference between Betty and Rachael. Rachael just happened to be alive before she became a brand.

All this said: Just call me Betty Crocker! I've been kicking some serious kitchen ass. (I shall post recipes and links in separate posts for easier searching.) The other day, Bryan and I remembered when my only cooking appliances were an electric wok and a couple of butter knives. I made everything in that wok, yet only one recipe was Asian: pad thai. Drunk macarroni and cheese graced the wok more than any other dish, and when I say drunk, that describes the cook, not the meal. I've loved being crafty my entire life, but it's only in the past year or so that I've really started working my way around the kitchen... taking risks... using real butter... having fun. Last year, Bryan and I started making our own cheese after reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. Then, we started brining chicken after reading Omnivore's Dilemna. And we procured a bread machine somewhere in between. The cooking life just seemed so rich, and it certainly is what it seems. We've always been foodies, loving fine dinners out (though if one more restaurant describes their cuisine as Asian fusion or American electic, I just might give up "fine" restaurant dining entirely). We still talk lovingly of our first "expensive meal" that we enjoyed together on Bryan's 22nd birthday in Taos--a delightful place called Joseph's Table. (They catered Julia Roberts' wedding, so the rumor goes!) The restaurant closed down for a while, but another rumor says it's back. Whatever the case, it ignited a wonderful longing in us for slow, beautiful meals. Listen up, kids: they aren't just for Europeans anymore!

And I'm rambling. The point is that a commitment to good homemade food has been stewing--ba bing!--for a while. And in some ways, it's becoming second nature. I say this with full recognition that Bryan and I are blessed to be in positions where we can devote time to these kinds of things. When I was working in an office, I couldn't plan a dinner the way I can now. In the office, my short breaks consisted of chatting someone up the breakroom or running to Walgreens for tampons. Today, my breaks consisted of throwing a pablano pepper in the oven to broil and shucking a few ears of corn. By the time work was through, all of my ingredients were ready to throw in a pot for a badass fresh summer corn chowder. Hate me. It's okay. I understand. But perhaps it will make you feel better to know that the sourdough bread I was making came out too doughy in the middle.

No?

Well, maybe a few fun recipes will lift your spirits! Put on your aprons and consult your trademark lawyer 'cause we 'bout to say "Yum-O!"

QueerBomb and Kitchen Antics

Let's get started, friends! It's been a hell of a weekend!

Friday night, dear Bryan and I got to know the streets of Austin intimately by marching with Queer Bomb, "an assembly of LGBTQIA with the community who have found the current strategy and structure of Austin pride to be non-inclusive, capitalist, heteronormative, safe, and unchallenging." Whew. As our Texas marriage license suggests, Bryan and I are not gay, but we both believe strongly in gay marriage, hospital visitation rights, and just basic equality. Seems like a no-brainer to us. Our friend Michael invited us to the event, and we went to lend to our voices to the cause. And he and several hundred others were letting their freak flag fly. Your average QueerBomber might be sporting a simple diva wig, a strap-on, or just their God-given boobs. (Evidently, it is not illegal for women to be bare-breasted in Austin.) I'll be honest. I felt uncomfortable at times, but this was my own doing. While I supported whole heartedly Queer Bomb's message of balls out inclusivity, I felt that I stuck out like a sore thumb in my contrasting squareness, and that my somewhat preppy straightness might be symbolic of the culture against which they were rebelling. But that wasn't the case at all. I was welcomed happily as a supporter, and I was proud to support. Plus, I got a lot of education, starting with the alphabet soup that is LGBTQIA. The QIA is a new addition for me: Q standing for Queer or Questioning, I standing for Intersex, and A standing for Asexual or Ally. Ally. That's me! Many thanks to QueerBomb for spreading a message of love and inclusion.

I've spent a lot of time in the kitchen this weekend, friends. For dinner Saturday, we enjoyed summer squash casserole, buffalo sliders on fresh biscuits with rosemary and caramelized onions, and for dessert, cupcake-sized blueberry pies. Then, for dinner tonight, turkey-stuffed cabbage rolls. If you're like Bryan, you may not have been salivating at the phrase "cabbage roll," but honey, you should be. They turned out divine. As part of my revolution, I've turned into an aspiring Iron Chef. Since moving to Austin, we have become members of Farmhouse Delivery, a delivery service that brings us local, farm fresh veggies, fruit, and meat every other week. It's a great way to support local farms and try out foods I wouldn't normally buy... such as cabbage. The Farmhouse Delivery offerings are pre-set, so it's up to me to make sure nothing goes to waste (like summer squash). And if I'm lucky, transform the mystery ingredients into a non-gag-worthy dish (like summer squash casserole). Sadly, a lot has gone to waste, but it's a learning process. So far I've learned that if you don't know what to do with it, put it in chicken soup. Everything tastes good after soaking in salt and stock. But probably not cabbage, thus the rolls... stuffed with poultry... so I suppose this advice holds to some extent. Now if I could only figure out how to enjoy beets. Evidently, Austin is home to a couple thousand beet farmers as they consistently plague our otherwise tasty basket of offerings. To borrow from Stewie Griffin's jihad on broccoli, "The answer is simple: the beets must die."

Tomorrow:
Basil: It's what's for dinner! and Chefery: Putting your ADD to work