Adulthood is tricky and other obvious things

The sky is blue! 

This may seem like a given to you...but it's not so normal this time of year out here. So, I celebrate. This day last year, Hurricane Sandy whacked into the Northeast, leaving many friends and loved ones in a bad spot. Here in Seattle we got a bit of a gift out of it - my aunt and uncle ended up extending their visit with us as they couldn't get a flight home. Not so fun for them but we loved having them, and that's what I'll choose to focus on - I've spent enough time on various blogs climbing upon my government-response-after-disasters soapbox. And this is a happy place! With food! 

In honor of the region of my roots, this week's menu...well, it has nothing to do with Sandy. Unless you consider some seafood. It does, however, include a recipe from my friend Johnny from New Jersey, so we'll count that. Unfortunately I do not have a new produce adventure to report on: a late night Saturday led to missing the Farmer's Market Sunday, so no new acquisitions. I still have last week's emergency acorn squash, though, so am carrying that through with a promise to do better next week. I'm sticking with the goal of menu planning, though, so here's this week's menu. 

• Monday: pan-seared local salmon & acorn squash. We stocked up on sockeye when it was coming in fresh over the summer, so this is a "reach into the freezer for a fast entree", and the aforementioned semi-new produce. 
• Tuesday: Johnny's slow cooker split pea soup & homemade corn bread. Johnny is a guy with a busy and stressful job, and the recipe he shared seems easy and well-suited for that kind of life. EPF teaches Tuesday nights and I'll be out voluworking (why didn't spellcheck catch what seems like a clearly made up word combining volunteering and working?) all afternoon, so this seems like something that will be just right for a late dinner. The cornbread is something I haven't made in a long time - and never the recipe I'm eyeing - but seemed like it would go well with this. 
• Wednesday: Individual Pot Roasts. Another new recipe, this is a dutch oven thing - love me some one-pot cooking. 
• Thursday: Leftover night! Assuming the weather cooperates we'll be trick or treating with our friends and their sweet little boy, so leftovers will be quick and easy - and we're going to run out of plastic containers if we don't clean out the fridge soon anyway.
• Friday: Baked Eggplant Parmesan. I'm trying a new recipe that calls this "healthy" and "easy". We'll see if it is either. 

And that's the plan! Last week, while a success in terms of planning, was also kind of a tip toe into this plan, with only two nights of real cooking - only one of which was "new". This week is a little more ambitious, although not hugely. Hopefully these will all turns out to be as not-enormously-complicated as I hope. 

Results to follow, friends...

"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, 
and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth 
seeking the successive autumns."

-George Eliot

Planning is for Adults

Tonight begins Project: Meg Cooks Like a Grown-up. The menu: slow cooker carnitas & delicata squash. The inadvertant theme: "quick" is in the...mind of the time-challenged. While both of these things involved minimal effort - and one was in a Crock-Pot, the modern originator of "the machine cooks it for you" - they both involved forethought and quite a lot of time. The Crock-Pot obviously does, although the assembly is about 10-15 minutes, tops. But if you're like me and can barely get out the door in time what with the clothing putting on and the coffee making and the whatnot, well, then, make it on a weekend. Being of the non-working variety, this was a Monday attempt for me. The delicata is also not very labor intensive, but does take about 30 minutes and needs tending, so can't really be put in and then left alone for 30 minutes. But once it's in, you can do the prep for the carnitas toppings and shred the meat, so it works out.

First up, carnitas. I might be the only person out there who hasn't made carnitas yet, so this seemed like a good thing to get in the repertoire. I mostly followed one recipe...but tweaked it based on another and then added a random fridge leftover. So, the end result is below (which shortcuts noted where possible), and aside from a deliciously fragrant house it was also super tasty. Not overwhelming but just snappy enough to perk up the evening. We did feel it needed a little kick, so the hot sauce was employed - but that can be optional. We added chopped avocado, a little sour cream and some flour tortillas, and it was creamy and tangy deliciousness. (The avocado was of course hard as a rock...October in the PacNW isn't exactly their time. It spent the afternoon snuggling with an apple in the Paper Bag Hotel, and the results were workable.) The original recipe suggested toppings of diced green chiles and carmelized onions. Neither of us is really into fiery hot food, so I scratched the chiles, and I wasn't feeling onions today but may try them out another time. 

Getting back in the groove

It's time to wake this thing back up. It's time for cold (permanently foggy) days and fireplaces. It's time to refocus from the depressing cesspool of our country's "government" to food, family, friends, festivities. It's Time To Cook.

It was a summer of minimal cooking - life was busy, EPF and I moved, and, well, it was summer, when a lack of both a/c and a grill means lots of salads and sushi. What with my patio garden doing really truly terribly, my domestic inspiration level was low, low, looooow. But now that we're sharing a home and eating together, there is some actual planning that needs to happen for us to eat like normal people (read: not takeout every night, which we could easily slip into with the wealth of options in this neighborhood). So: while I'm without garden for now (of the outdoor plants, only the rosemary and now-struggling sage made the move - the others went to the Garden Intake Shelter, aka my next door neighbors' patio), I do need menu planning motivation and this blog is going to be it! Because I said so! And so it is! (Do I sound fired up yet? I'm still working on the coffee.)

This week I'm also embarking on a new low-grade project: each week I'm attempting a new, ideally seasonal, produce that I haven't messed with previously (or at least don't do on a regular basis). I feel like incorporating fresh produce outside of the summer is challenging, but I know it can be done, so will now shame myself into doing so. This week, squash. I acquired delicata and acorn at the farmer's market yesterday, and am starting with delicata since I've never made it. (Acorn I have made, so it's in case of crisis - this is the first week, after all)

The week's plan:

• Monday: Slow cooker carnitas & roasted delicata squash. This is a double experiment as I've never made carnitas either, but nothing in the slow cooker is that complex - so how hard can it be? I'm combining a couple recipes - we'll see how it goes.
• Tuesday: Roast chicken thighs with carrot-fennel soup (yay for carrot and fennel season!)
• Wednesday: (nothing: we have dinner plans, so a nicely timed break)
• Thursday: Roast chicken a la EPF. Somehow I have reached the distinguished age of...uh...over 28 without mastering the art of roast chicken (intact, that is - I can handle pieces - see Tuesday). I can make one, but it won't be amazing. EPF, on the other hand, creates a masterpiece, so he is in charge of this one. If the acorn squash is still around, it may go with this. TBD.
• Friday: Leftover red sauce & pasta. It's Friday, people. C'mon. 

Lots of white meat, but then again we've been eating a lot of lamb and bacon lately so it's probably a good thing to err away from the highest possible cholesterol levels for a bit, no?

"Ask not what you can do for your country. 
Ask what's for lunch."
-Orson Wells

It's that season again

The sun has been out here in Seattle for days now. Days! It's gorgeous. I'm sunburned. It's only April. I could not be happier. 

As an obvious result, I've been pretty much parked on my patio, and have been puttering and freshening up garden pots. In the process, I've discovered that while I never really checked to see if my peas from last year were perennials...it's kind of looking like maybe they are. The pot in which (I assume, can't really remember) they were planted last year suddenly has a collection of pea-looking sprouts, without me having paid the slightest bit of attention. 

there are four or five of these - peas-to-be?

 All I've done is...I don't know, till? the soil to air it out after the winter, with intent to fertilize and reuse later in the season. I didn't think I even left any of the plant behind last year. But something is growing and it's not a weed or a stray birdseed (not the current finch families are leaving much behind to begin with), so maybe I'm lucking into another crop. It's a mystery.

Meanwhile it appears I'm going to have some sort of tomato bonanza. Last year I planted 9-10 seeds and got something sad like 1 sprout, and had to purchase a start from a local farm at the farmers' market to make sure I had a crop at all. This year I planted 16 seeds, and so far I have 9 - nine! - sprouts. I'm going to have to buy more pots. The mint won't die, the thyme seems to have created a baby thyme at the side of the pot, the sage looks like winter never even happened, and even the rosemary is doing well. This is all before this week, when we've had nearly a full week of stunning weather (did I mention that I'm sunburned). This week the arugula has popped up all over the place and three new orchid buds have bloomed. The only thing not busting out is the violet hybrid I seeded in pots - which is probably fine since now I'm going to need those pots for tomatoes. I love spring. 

itty bitty tomato sprout...one of many

Sprung!

I'm typing from the inside of a sunbeam. A sunbeam! This is so exciting - not just because it's Seattle and it rains a lot. No, this is more because it's Seattle...and we're kind of far north. For a long stretch in the winter, the sun - when it happens to come out in the middle of the day to begin with - never makes it high enough in the sky to make it into the interior courtyard of my building, which my apartment faces. I know it's over there...but it never shows itself. But now! Now my patio is awash in sun, my desk is a warm and happy place, and my cat is writhing in ecstasy in a sun patch in the next room. 

There really is nothing like early spring, amirite? That first warm day: bare feet and cropped pants, iced coffee, chirping birds, picnic-planning with EPB (who is now EPFiance, so I guess he needs a new acronym). Best of all, though, there are actual!fresh!delicious! things in the produce section. Lunches are suddenly much more interesting - today's was a big fresh salad, with fresh asparagus and chickpeas (okay, those aren't "fresh", but they were good) with a lemon vinaigrette and fresh pepper. You can't get springier. It was marvelous. I used to be afraid of asparagus. If you don't know how to cook them you can rapidly slide down a complicated path of blanching AND sauteing, or roasting them to death, or other complicated disasters. No more! Thanks, Alton Brown.

Welcome, spring! 

Simple and Delicious Vinaigrette

It's a personal thing, a homemade salad dressing. I like mine on the basic side. The general rule of thumb is 1 part acid to 2 parts oil, with seasonings if you want. Add your acids first, then the salt and other seasonings - they'll dissolve better before you add the oil. Then add your oil, whisk aggressively, and you're all set. My current go-to, in the order you should combine: 1 part balsamic, 1 part lemon juice (fresh if you have it), a generous pinch of salt, a pinch of dried whole thyme (crush it as if your hands were a mortar and pestle as you add it to the container), and a generous grinding of fresh pepper. Mix. Then add two parts good extra virgin olive oil - and if you have a lightly flavored oil, like a pepper-infused one i'm enjoying right now, make it 1 part that and 1 part unflavored oil. Mix, taste, adjust as needed. 

Easiest possible way to make asparagus

Via Alton Brown, Food Network

Ingredients

1/4 cup water

1 pound fresh asparagus, 1 to 1 1/2 inches cut off the bottom [*note from your blogger: don't get too technical here, just snap them - the stalk will break where it's supposed to*]

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

Pour or spritz the water onto 4 paper towels. Spread out the paper towels and lay the asparagus on top of the dampened towels. Sprinkle with the salt. Roll up the asparagus in the dampened towels. Lay the bundle, seam side down, in the microwave. Microwave on high until the asparagus is just crisp tender, about 3 to 4 minutes. Remove from the microwave using tongs and carefully unwrap. Arrange on a serving platter and serve immediately.

A follow up, which is totally unlike its preceding post

I don't normally just repost somebody else's blogging - seems lazy and vaguely cheaty - but this seemed important. I was talking previously about how we're all in the winter funk - how food is not fresh and cooking is not fun and we are generally cold, grumpy, and uninspired (maybe I'm projecting a bit). I gave you a warm and somewhat wintery meal. Today, in my perusal of favorite blogs, I swung by Smitten Kitchen...and saw that Deb was feeling pretty much the same as I - but had a very different approach. I now want fresh fruity drinks, and you should too. Read, drink, and enjoy.

Blood Orange Margaritas



picture via Smitten Kitchen

We all need a little kick right about now

So. Here we are, most of the way through February. (Yes, really. That happened.) You are back in the crazed day-to-day with no warm and fuzzy holidays in sight, it's still cold and gross out for most of you, and spring break, for those few of you that can actually still do that, is way too far off. The early winter appeal of cooking great grand meals for cozy nights has faded entirely, and it's still too early for most fresh and interesting produce to inspire. You want dinner, and quickly, but still something interesting, and probably something frugal. Turns out, this exists - and it mostly uses things you're likely to have on hand, and if not can be substituted to a certain extent.

I'm a fan of this pork cutlet recipe - it's easy, it's fast (honestly, 30 minutes start to finish - and more like 15 if you take shortcuts) and it's got a little kick to keep it from being too boring, and you can easier adjust the amount of kick for your particular audience. I like to practically crust the cutlets in pepper when I sear them and not skimp on the red pepper in the sauce, but that's just what works for me.

Generally, the ingredient amounts - at least in my experience - are really just suggestions. I don't think I've measured anything any of the times I've made this, probably because it's a recipe for 4 and I've only made this for 1 so far - at least before tonight, when I cooked up a whole batch of 6 cutlets, which once again is not precisely what the recipe calls for. So yes, very adjustable!

Bonus: the recipe calls for wine, so if you're going to open a bottle anyway...

Spicy Italian Pork Cutlets
(adapted from Allrecipes)

INGREDIENTS:

• 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil, divided
• 4 boneless pork chops, pounded to 1/4 inch thick [*I've never actually pounded - first time the cutlets were already pretty thin, the second time I just sliced them off a loin I had defrosted. Also worth noting that my cutlets tend to be small, so I allow two per serving.*]
• salt and pepper to taste
• 4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced [*shortcut option: garlic paste works fine although maybe isn't as interesting a presentation at the end*]
• 1 large tomato, diced [*another shortcut - I tend to make this with canned diced. A bit more sodium but much faster and you get more flavorful juice in the recipe*]
• 1/3 cup chicken broth [*roughly*]
• 1/4 cup dry white wine [*again, roughly - whatever looks good to your eye. Also, I stand by the rule of not cooking with cheap junk wine - you're going to have to do something with the rest of the bottle, so use something you'll drink, or pull a Martha Stewart and freeze leftover cubes for...I don't really know what. I feel like frozen wine would just complicate a recipe, particularly one like this. But whatever floats your boat.*]
• 3 tablespoons minced fresh parsley [*I always forget this. It's still good.*]
• 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes

DIRECTIONS:
1. Heat roughly 2 tablespoons olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat - just drizzle some in - you're not deep-frying, so adjust for the number of cutlets you're making. Season the pork chops with salt and pepper, and sear very quickly on both sides - it'll finish cooking later, so don't overdo it here. Probably a good idea to have a splatter screen handy, too. Remove from the pan, and set aside.
2. Heat the remaining olive oil in the skillet over medium-high heat, and saute the garlic about 30 seconds - probably less if you're using paste. Mix in the tomato, chicken broth, wine, parsley, and red pepper flakes. Cook and stir until thickened, about 2 minutes.
3. Return the pork chops to the skillet, and continue cooking 5 to 10 minutes, to an internal temperature of 145 degrees F (63 degrees C). Serve pork with the tomato and broth mixture from the skillet. [*it's worth noting that when I first printed this recipe the safety guidelines for pork hadn't been changed yet, so it said 160 degrees - but the exact same cooking time. Either way I found this to be too long - it was 4 minutes at most in my case. There's room for error since it's in liquid so won't get TOO tough, but keep any eye on it - it's going to be an individual judgement call, since getting a meat thermometer into a thin cutlet is easier said than done. It also is affected, obviously, by how long you sear it earlier in the recipe, so be quick about that.*]

The original recipe suggests putting this with buttered noodles - I put it over a pile of whole wheat couscous from Trader Joe's, which soaked up the extra broth nicely, and was probably healthier - plus, if you start it at the same time as you first begin this recipe, it's done at about the same time with minimal effort required. All it really needs is a decent-sized salad along side and you're set.

Gumbo makes it better

Happy Mardi Gras! For those of you who don't know, I used to live in New Orleans, and miss it early and often. Living elsewhere is a bummer, especially during Mardi Gras and JazzFest, mostly because there's no question that you are missing out on amazingness, but particularly because it's not even like the festivity isn't as good - there's just nothing doin'. As they say, "Everywhere else, it's just Tuesday." And that is by far the worst part - fighting the overwhelming urge to run around shaking people and saying "don't you know what today is? It's MARDI GRAS." Of course, as my friend Erin noted on her blog, this often leads to the annoying process of explaining that TV/tourist Mardi Gras and actual Mardi Gras have next to nothing in common. 

Anyway...I digress. This year, there was a little extra New Orleans attention in the form of the Super Bowl, so I seized the moment and EPB and I, having zero interest in either team playing, had a little NOLA-themed Super Bowl gathering. The main purpose was to have a lot of food. Obviously. I gave some thought to making a king cake, but people who haven't been previously exposed to king cake and/or Mardi Gras sometimes don't respond as well as one would hope, as I learned during an unfortunate encounter with a colleague in 2011. So: no king cake. Instead, I decided to swap out the traditional chili for gumbo. I couldn't find a recipe I liked, so I combined a couple and tweaked it into my own. It's not totally by-the-rules traditional, so I expect some actual New Orleanians will be distressed, but it's also not an all-day project and it disappeared pretty quickly, so I think I was not the only one pleased with the end result. It's adjustable, as all good recipes should be. Unfortunately no photos accompany this, but I'll add some next time. Notes: I did a fish-free version of this, for two reasons - we already had quite a bit of seafood on the menu, and with a lot of little kids coming I didn't know if there were allergies, etc. I think a shrimp version would be tastier and plan to do that next time. Also, this is one of those recipes where you really ought to do the chopping, measuring, etc before you do anything - your own little meez, as Anthony Bourdain calls it. There's no time to chop them without burning the roux or otherwise causing chaos unless you happen to have your very own prep chef doing it for you, and then what are you doing reading blog recipes anyway? 

Superdome Gumbo

• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 1/2 cup all purpose flour
• 4 celery stalks, coarsely chopped
• 2 medium onions, coarsely chopped
• 2 green bell peppers, chopped
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 2 teaspoons dried oregano, crumbled
• 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper 
• 32-40 ounces of liquid: chicken stock, canned clam juice, etc, depending on which main ingredients you're using. I think 40 is too thin and 32 is just barely enough - if you plan on simmering it for a long time, 40 is probably the way to go.
• 1 28-ounce can plum tomatoes, drained, chopped
• 1 pound smoked andouille, halved lengthwise, sliced 1/4 inch thick
• 1/2 pound okra, trimmed, cut crosswise into 1/2-inch-thick slices (frozen works too if you can't find fresh)

• Roughly 2 lbs of shrimp uncooked, peeled and cleaned shrimp; or cooked meats like chicken if going seafood-free. [*note from your blogger: In this case for convenience I got a rotisserie chicken and picked the meat.*]
• Long-grain rice 

Heat the oil in a heavy large Dutch oven over high heat until almost smoking. Add flour and stir until dark red-brown, about 8 minutes. [*note from your blogger: a little research suggested that you can do it that way or you can do medium-to-medium-high heat and cook it more slowly - which is what I did, and it was fine and less odorific in the kitchen. I read a direction from a highly recognized New Orleans chef, one who has a Louisiana country inspiration in much of his food, saying that he was raised with the lesson that a good roux should take as long as drinking two bottles of beer. I think that's a touch too long, but then my roux was a caramel color and I was okay with that, so if you want dark dark, maybe tipsy is the way to go. Of CRUCIAL importance, though: you must keep stirring. A whisk is best, and if you're fancy you can use a whisk designed specifically for roux. I can see it being helpful. Keep stirring, and do not look away - it is very easy to burn and ruin it. Put on some music, like the livestream of WWOZ, and settle in with your whisk.*] 

Immediately add celery, onions and bell peppers. Cook 5 minutes, stirring and scraping bottom of pan often (switch to a wooden spoon for this part - much easier). Mix in bay leaves, salt, oregano and cayenne. Add your liquids, canned tomatoes and sausage. 

• Option A, with shrimp & fresh okra: Boil 15 minutes. [This is a good time to get going on the rice, by the way - it'll be done around the same time.] Add okra, reduce heat and simmer until okra is tender, about 15 minutes. Add shrimp to gumbo and simmer until just cooked through, about 3 minutes. 
• Option B, with precooked chicken and frozen okra: Bring the liquids to a boil, and add the chicken. Being pre-cooked it can be a little dry, so this both softened it back up and added some extra flavor to the gumbo. After roughly 15 minutes, add the okra while it's still boiling, since it's frozen. Then reduce it to a simmer, and simmer it, honestly, for as long as you want until it's the consistency you want. Should be at least 15 minutes, but if it looks too thin you can keep it going. 

That's it! Takes a while with all the stirring and simmering, but it's not super complicated. Various recipes also suggest that you can make this the day before and bring it back up to a simmer before serving. If you do this with the shrimp version, don't add the shrimp until the day of so they don't overcook. 

To serve, put a mound of rice in each bowl and ladle the gumbo over it. Set out your Tabasco, your Crystal, your Tony's - and enjoy!

“What is New Orleans? New Orleans is Creole gumbo, filé gumbo, cowan gumbo, chicken gumbo, smoked sausage gumbo, hot sausage gumbo, onion gumbo.”

– Kermit Ruffins, New Orleans vocalist and trumpeter

On 8-legged neighbors: a digression

The Pacific northwest is a pretty spidery place. We don't really have a mosquito problem, or a lot of other "buggy" issues that seem to plague the rest of the country (at least here in the city, anyway), so we're lucky there. But we have got SPIDERS. Lots of 'em. Which I guess probably is related. But I digress. Around this time every year, these spiders are suddenly ginormous. Like, ridiculous big momma spiders. Prior to living out here, I had a firm conviction that the biggest spiders could be found in Harrisburg - my office was on the 10th floor, and even up there they'd have these whoppers (on the outside of the windows, thankfully). There were urban myths that these spiders were some sort of mutant, a descendant of the spider victims of the Three Mile Island disaster, as TMI isn't that far from Harrisburg. Whether this was true, I don't know, but my first season in Portland trumped all those spiders. I've mostly gotten used to it now, but every so often we have these whoppers a little too close for comfort. This morning, I went out to water my plants (we've had something like .02 inches of rain over the past 53 days or so), and stopped dead in the doorway - the spiders, the big hosses, are here - and they're setting up shop in my bamboo, which a) needs watering and b) is awfully close to my door. This is bad on so many levels. One of them is hanging out on a web that spans both, so it's just chilling in midair and you can't see the web if you don't look carefully. CREEPY. 

This one is currently MIA - the web is still there, though. This was yesterday, from the other side of the plant. [UPDATE: it's back - it wasn't there when I was out watering, but has since returned.] It's worth noting that these are not your little bamboo branch - they're a good 6' high with a decently wide span. Hard to dodge and very thirsty. 

I consider myself pretty comfortable with the outdoors and the life therein...but spiders, man...I saw Arachnophobia at an inappropriately young and impressionable age, and I think I'm still scarred. 

On grandparents and cookies

I've been thinking about my grandparents a lot lately, as I've passed a few anniversaries in the past couple of weeks. August 29 would have been my paternal grandmother's 100th (!) birthday - more about her in a moment - and September 3rd was the anniversary of my maternal grandfather's passing, in 2001. I'll always remember that year, mostly because I lost count of how many people said on the 11th of that month "at least he didn't have to see this." I agree on the one hand...but then again, I'm of the belief that people never really leave us. But, whatever works, I suppose. Anyway, entirely too serious for this blog. Point is: I've been thinking about them, as well as my maternal grandmother, who was my last remaining grandparent, and passed earlier this year.

Of those three, I have fairly stereotypical food-related memories of them. Of my grandfather, I have zero memories of cooking occurring - and assume he never did, outside of frozen meals on various occasions. He was of that generation - no surprise. His wife, my grandmother, also factors into my cooking memories in a limited way: frozen fish sticks, Campbell's Chicken Noodle...which I loved at the age she was making them for me, so not a problem there. But as far as I can remember, her cooking was like what I see by the wives on Mad Men: frozen, canned, etc - the modern miracle of prepared/convenience food, allowing her to get out and about during the day. One huge exception was her pizzelle cookies: amazing, thin, delicately crispy. How she mastered those tricky things while strenuously avoiding other kitchen activity, I don't really understand. At this point, one wonders where my mother learned her cooking skills, which I've referenced here before. Two sources: Mrs. Bacceliere, who lived next door to my mother's family and - despite not being Italian herself - had mastered Italian comfort food like nobody's business; and my father's mother. Two crucial things were passed down by way of these women: my mother's unbeatable red sauce recipe from Mrs. Bacceliere, which I feel I have mastered and don't know if I can bring myself to share here; and - related - the orange dutch oven you see in so many of my pictures: it was a wedding (?) gift from my grandmother to my parents, and was passed to me after many years of use. I think this makes it well loved, and am unconcerned with the small places where enamel has given way to cast iron.

Anyway, my paternal grandmother. Aside from the many culinary bits she taught my mother (and I wouldn't even know where to start with the list), she also was known far and wide (not really exaggerating there) for her Toll House Cookies. These are no ordinary chocolate chip cookie, you understand. Yes, there's a recipe on the back of the Toll House chocolate chip bag - but Grandmom tweaked it, and then put her own spin on it, and had it down to a science. These tweaks and spins were such that after she passed in the early 1990's, various family members - myself included - spent years - YEARS - trying to match her cookies. Some have mastered it...I never did.

The thing with these cookies, see, is that it's such a simple and short-cooking recipe that little things will completely throw it off. For example, every time I move I have to learn the recipe all over again, as the variations between ovens & climates are enough to render the previous settings useless. That said: I hesitate to say this and throw it off entirely, but I think I've figured it out here in my Seattle apartment with its electric range. I tried last week, on Grandmom's birthday, and made a total mess of them. But I tweaked, and tried again tonight...and it seems to have worked out! There are some who would say not to share a family recipe like this, but the thing is that my version, which was second hand via my aunt to begin with, has now been adjusted again. You will have to retweak it for your oven and will probably adjust other things as you don't have a set taste stuck in your memory like I do.



Important Note: these are different from chocolate chip cookies. They aren't fluffy and floury, and they're a little salty, a little thin, a little chewy. That's how they're supposed to be. That's also why they're tricky.

Grandmom's Toll House Cookies, version 2.4.5.745

Ingredients

• 2 cups + 3 tbsp sifted flour (*note from your blogger: original recipe had 4 tbsp, I changed it to 2, then upped it again.*)
• ~3/4 tsp salt (*note from your blogger: I lowered it from a full tsp with this batch, after EPB noted - accurately - that they were pretty salty. Better now.*)
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 2 sticks margarine (*note from your blogger: this is surprisingly hard to find around here - do your best. Also, I did not use an unsalted version, which may have contributed to the saltiness.*)
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1 1/2 cups dark brown sugar, packed down (*note from your blogger: this is why the saltiness works!*)
• 2 eggs
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 12 oz package Hershey's chocolate chips (*note from your blogger: I know they're called Toll House, but there you go*)

Cream margarine, add white sugar and cream well. (*Note from your blogger: you're going to want to use cold margarine...I'm so used to a room temperature requirement that I did that the first time. It was a mistake.*)
Sift together flour, salt, and baking soda.
Add the dry mixture to the butter/sugar mixture.
Add eggs & beat well.
Add brown sugar. Mix well.
Add vanilla extract; incorporate.
Add chocolate chips and mix. (*note from your blogger: I find that this is way too many chips, so this time reduced it to probably 80% of the package. The cookies spread thin, so the chocolate can be overwhelming.*)

Drop by teaspoonful onto greased cookie sheet (*note from your blogger: greasing failed for me the first time so I switched to parchment...much better.*), do not crowd. They will spread quite a bit and may still bump into each other, but a little of that is okay. Bake at 375 degrees for 10 minutes. (*note from your blogger: unless you're in my current apartment, in which case it's 12 minutes 30 seconds. Or my apartment in Harrisburg, where it was 9 minutes. Do a test batch and you'll get there - accept that you'll mangle some of them. It's fine.*)

Recipe Notes: Do not overbake in oven, as they will continue to cook for a few minutes on the cookie sheet before transferring to a cooking rack. Leave them for about 3 minutes before doing so. This recipe can be doubled, and is quite tasty without chips - because not everyone likes chocolate (*note from your blogger: specifically my father and at least one uncle!*)

Good luck, and remember: they're supposed to be thin and chewy...all that brown sugar gives them a molasses-y effect.