In the midst of life...

In the Book of Common Prayer – repository of some of the most soul-shattering prose this side of Blake – there’s a passage that came to me tonight after returning home from Thing Two’s dance recital.  

In the midst of life we are in death;

of whom may we seek for succor,

but of thee, O Lord,

who for our sins art justly displeased?

This is from The Burial of the Dead, Rite One, and is spoken at the committal. 

That first line is what popped into my head.

In the midst of life, we are in death…

Except, I think, that’s exactly ass-backwards.  

When my mother was diagnosed with Stage IV metastatic lung cancer early last year – this is a woman with no risk factors, no family history – it was a shock, to say the least.  She fought, she raged, she found the best oncologist in the lower 48, she ate no refined sugar for a year, and in the end – for it is the end, now – the disease does what it is genetically programmed to do, and takes over.

Not just her body, but her life, her husband’s life, my life, my children’s, and many others as well.  

But we have life where she, very shortly, will not. 

And that life goes on.  Parallel to the bedside vigil runs a dance recital.  And lacrosse practice and a gifted and talented arts residency and mastering a new Mozart piano sonata (Thing Two) and a job crewing on a schooner and student leadership council and the national qualifiers for fencing (Thing One) and wilderness first responder recertification (Himself) and a massive promotion at work (me) and homework, school dances, standardized testing, the spring play, band and chorus concerts, sleepovers and birthday parties, mulching the flowerbeds, housework, laundry, refinancing the house, scheduling physicals and car inspections and rabies shots and getting the sailboat ready for the season. 

In the midst of death, we are in life.  

That sounds – well, not exactly cheery, but much less morbid, doesn’t it?  

Wherefore my heart is glad, and my spirit rejoiceth;

my flesh also shall rest in hope.

YamDankee's Paella

The ideal company meal is (in my opinion) one which requires minimal mess and last-minute fuss yet appears, to one’s unsuspecting guests, tremendously complicated and exotic and creates the illusion that one really knocked oneself out for them.

By these criteria, paella is perfect. 

                                          

• It’s terribly good, and extremely flexible and forgiving.  Pretty impossible to mess up, in fact. 
• Except for cutting boards and such, it involves exactly one pan and one bowl – very low cleanup factor. 
• It can be made up early in the day, set aside, and then tucked into the oven before guests arrive, allowing one to appear breezily efficient and in perfect control of the meal and therefore, by extension, all aspects of one’s life. 

Not that we had guests this weekend.  I simply hankered for paella and I could use me some of that in-control feeling these days.

Here’s the lineup:

  

First chop up some chicken breasts and mix the pieces with some olive oil, paprika, oregano, salt and pepper.

Cover the bowl (this is the one bowl of which I speak) and refrigerate for at least an hour. 

Heat a bit more oil in a 15” paella pan over medium heat.  No paella pan?  No problem.  Any broad, shallow stovetop- and oven-proof pot, skillet or roaster will do.  This is the only pan you will need.

When the oil is shimmery, stir in lots of whole garlic cloves, a chopped onion and red pepper flakes; sauté until onion is translucent and garlic begins to brown. 

Add the marinated chicken and some chopped chorizo; cook, stirring, until browned.  

Dump in a chopped red pepper and some medium-grain rice, and stir until the rice is well-oiled. 

Now add saffron, a bay leaf, parsley, drained clams (keep the juice!), and drained tomatoes (keep the juice!).

A note about my saffron – it was a gift from a colleague who picked it up on a business trip to Spain.  I am forever in her debt.

(At this point, you may wish – as I did – to cover the pan and put it in the fridge until about 1 ¼ hours before serving time.) 

Increase heat to high and add a quart of liquid – a mixture of the reserved clam and tomato juices and chicken stock is very flavorful – along with the zest of two lemons.  Bring it to a boil, then turn off the flame and stir in some frozen peas. 

Cover the pan tightly with foil and bake in a preheated 400º oven until liquid is almost absorbed and rice is tender.  This takes exactly an hour but I always start checking around 45 minutes because I’m insecure that way.

Uncover the pan and arrange raw shrimp on top of the rice.  Put the foil back on and bake for 5-10 more minutes.  The shrimp should be barely cooked. 

Serve immediately with plenty of hot sauce and good bread upon which to smoosh the garlic.

  

Variations (all of which add interest but also time, pots and pans, chopping and/or cleanup – fair warning):

• Substitute eight whole chicken thighs for the white meat.  Leave the skin on and throw them on the grill for a few minutes (or brown them in the paella pan before you cook off the onions).
• Fresh clams or mussels instead of canned make a nice rustic presentation with shells and all.  Tuck them down into the rice mixture just before you cover and bake it, and remove any that do not open after 45 minutes or an hour.
• Cook the shrimp separately on the grill and stir into the rice at the last minute, just so they heat through.
• Squid is a fun change-up; it takes the same amount of time to cook as the shrimp. 
• In re. squid:  can someone please explain to me how the same teenager who can’t look at a mussel without gagging will enthusiastically scarf down tentacles?

YamDankee's Paella

4 tablespoons olive oil, divided

1 tablespoon paprika (smoked if you can find it)

2 teaspoons dried oregano

salt and black pepper to taste

2 pounds skinless, boneless chicken breasts, cut into 1 inch pieces

2 heads garlic, cloves peeled

1 yellow onion, chopped

1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (or to taste)

1 pound chorizo sausage, quartered lengthwise & sliced ¼” thick

1 red bell pepper, diced

2 cups uncooked medium-grain white rice

1 pinch saffron threads

1 bay leaf

1/2 cup, packed, minced fresh parsley

2 6.5-oz cans chopped clams, drained, juice reserved

1 28-oz can diced tomatoes, drained, juice reserved

Reserved clam and tomato juice plus enough chicken stock to total 1 quart

Zest of 2 lemons

2 c frozen peas

2 pounds shrimp, peeled and deveined

In a large bowl, mix together 2 tablespoons olive oil, paprika, oregano, and salt and pepper. Stir in chicken pieces to coat. Cover and refrigerate 1 hour.

Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in 15” paella pan over medium heat. Stir in garlic, onion and red pepper flakes; sauté until onion is translucent and garlic begins to brown.  Add chicken and sausage; cook, stirring, until browned.   Add red bell pepper and rice and cook, stirring, to coat rice with oil, about 3 minutes; add more oil if necessary. Stir in saffron threads, bay leaf, parsley, clams, and tomatoes.  (At this point, the dish can be covered and refrigerated until you are ready to bake it.) 

Add chicken stock and lemon zest. Bring to a boil, then remove from heat and stir in peas.  Seal tightly with foil.  Place in preheated 400º oven and bake 1 hour or until liquid is almost absorbed.

Remove from oven and stir.  Arrange shrimp evenly over the top of the rice, cover, and return to the oven for 5-10 minutes or until shrimp are barely opaque. 

Serves 8.

And This from the Sardonic Eighth-Grader...

Yesterday I discovered this among the magnets on the fridge. 

Apparently it's been there for days. 

Is it a cry for help, do you suppose?



Adventures with Wildlife

So the really funny part about this is that just the night before, Himself was saying we were lucky we’d never caught a skunk.

We have a bit of a squirrel issue, you see.  The same birdseed which attracts that pesky flock of turkeys and more than fifty other species of birds to our yard is also an irresistable draw for red and gray squirrels, which are cute for a few minutes until they empty the feeders, at which point they become annoying.  Then the red ones get into the walls and ceilings of the house, which is super annoying.  

So a few years ago we put out a couple of live traps and began an annual Squirrel Relocation Program wherein we capture the squirrels from our yard and set them free in our friends’ yards in Camden.

(Just kidding.) 

This has been a fairly successful undertaking, so as soon as enough snow melted we put out the traps for the season and that’s when Himself said what he did about skunks.  Which was, as I mentioned, the funny part.

Ha ha ha.

We discovered our skunk at 5.30 on Thursday morning.  Thursday being the day I leave the house at 6.30 a.m. and return at 7.30 p.m.  The skunk was, therefore, Himself’s problem.

Himself used the Google and learned that it is theoretically possible to transport and release a live skunk without triggering its defense mechanism:

• First, one needs to sneak up to the trap and cover it up with something opaque which one doesn’t mind possibly having to throw away.  The theory is, if the skunk can’t see anything, it will not become alarmed.  
• I cannot help but be reminded vaguely of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal.  

• Next one should carefully and gently place the covered trap in one’s vehicle and carefully and gently drive to the release site.
• This is where Himself ran into a leetle bit of trouble.  A noisy, bouncy ride in the back of a pickup truck – I have recently remarked upon this spring’s epic frost heaves and potholes – was clearly not to our skunk’s liking.

• Once at the release site, one should carefully and gently place the covered trap on the ground, and – standing quietly and as still as possible – slowly open the door, whereupon the skunk will eventually (they are shy and retiring creatures by nature) amble out, blink a few times in the sunlight, snuffle about briefly and then toddle off to live happily ever after.  
• Our skunk was not shy and retiring at this point, and the capacity to stand still and quietly while a pissed-off skunk erupts from a live trap is not, we find, something my husband possesses.  

I would give anything to have had pictures of this.

Anyhoo, aside from a slight lingering odor in the truck, no lasting effects were suffered.  The skunk is, I trust, enjoying its new digs over on Bald Mountain.

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming….

Spring?

Maybe... this could be it...

Repurposing Leftovers: Salmon Pie with Biscuit Crust

This is something like a dish my mother made when I was a kid.  Only better.  No offense, Ma.

It’s built on the biscuit-topped pot pie model and any biscuit recipe will work – Bisquick is fine, or even refrigerator biscuits, though you may need to adjust the baking time.  If you use a rolled biscuit recipe, you can cut out nice neat little biscuit shapes and lay them on top of the casserole, or pat the whole batch of dough into the shape of your baking dish and lay it on top in one big sheet.  I prefer drop biscuits because 1) I’m lazy and 2) the drop biscuit recipe from the November/December 2007 issue of Cook’s Illustrated is simply the best in the world.

 

I used leftover salmon, but canned works just fine.

Salmon Pie with Biscuit Crust                                     

1 medium onion, diced

1 tablespoon minced garlic

1 stalk celery, sliced

2 cloves garlic, minced

6 tablespoons butter

¼ cup flour

1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper (or to taste)

1 can cream of mushroom soup

1 ½ cups milk

2 cups (more or less) cooked, flaked salmon fillets (or 1 15-oz can salmon, drained, skin & bone removed, flaked)
1 4-oz can mushrooms, drained and roughly chopped

1 ½ cups frozen peas

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 tablespoon parsley flakes

Salt & pepper to taste

1 batch biscuit dough*

 

Preheat oven to 425. 

In large skillet over medium heat, melt butter and sauté onion, garlic and celery until tender.  Reduce heat to low; stir in flour and cayenne and cook, stirring, until combined and thickened.  Slowly add cream of mushroom soup and milk, stirring until well blended.  Add salmon, mushrooms, frozen peas and lemon juice; season to taste.  Transfer mixture to ungreased 13x9 baking dish. 

Top casserole with prepared biscuit dough.  Bake for 20-25 minutes until biscuits are golden brown and filling is bubbly.  Brush biscuits with melted butter, if desired, before serving.

Serves 6 normal people or 4 in this household.

*Best Drop Biscuits (adapted from Cook’s Illustrated, November/December 2007)

2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon sugar

¾ teaspoon table salt

1 cup cold buttermilk

8 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly (about 5 minutes)

2 tablespoons melted butter for brushing biscuits

Whisk flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar and salt in large bowl.  Combine buttermilk and 8 tablespoons melted butter in a 2-cup measuring cup, stirring until butter forms small clumps.

Add buttermilk mixture to dry ingredients and stir until just incorporated and batter pulls away from the sides of the bowl.  Drop by scant ¼-cup spoonfuls on top of casserole.

New England Boiled Dinner

I don’t know why this turned out so well, such a basic dish we’ve made a gajillion times, but something really clicked with how it came together this weekend.    

It doesn't get much more traditional than this - although I must send apologies up to my hardscrabble Yankee forebears who wouldn't know a juniper berry from Adam's off ox.  Let not thy heart be troubled by the amount of horseradish, for it melloweth over the long cooking time.

New England Boiled Dinner

1 3-lb boneless chuck roast, rolled and tied

1 tablespoon minced garlic

2 tablespoons prepared horseradish

6 juniper berries

1 large bay leaf

½ teaspoon dried rosemary

6 medium red potatoes, cut in eighths

4 carrots, peeled and cut into 1 ½” chunks

4 yellow onions, peeled & quartered

1-2 tablespoons beef base or bouillon

4 tablespoons flour combined with 6 tablespoons cold water (approximately)

Salt & pepper to taste

Place the roast in a Dutch oven and add water to come about halfway up the sides of the roast.  Add the garlic, horseradish, juniper berries, bay leaves and rosemary.  Cover and simmer over low heat, turning the roast once or twice to keep the top from drying out, until meat is tender, about two hours.

Add the potatoes, carrots and onions, tucking them down in the liquid around the sides of the roast.  Cover and simmer another 45 minutes or until the vegetables are tender.  Remove roast to a warm platter and tent with foil.  Using a slotted spoon, remove the vegetables to a warm bowl and cover to keep warm.  Pick out the bay leaf and juniper berries if you can find them; warn your dinner companions if you can’t.

Increase heat to high.  Stir beef base into broth – start with the smaller amount and taste as you go – and bring to a boil.  Correct seasonings.  

In a small jar or covered container, shake the flour and water together until blended.  Whisk the flour mixture into the boiling broth (pour through a wire mesh strainer to catch any lumps), and continue stirring until thickened.

Slice the roast thinly and serve with the vegetables, with a generous helping of gravy over all.

6 servings

Kitchen Gadget Appreciation Day

It has come to my attention that there is no such thing as Kitchen Gadget Appreciation Day.  This, in my opinion, is a grievous omission and should be remedied immediately.

The idea came to me yesterday whilst I was rooting around my shelves for this:

(n.b.:  Much as I try to repress them, occassionally I have these culinary spasms in which my Southern half makes its presence felt.  Usually the manifestation is mild and results in something harmless like cream gravy or overcooked green beans with fatback; other times, like yesterday, it bursts forth like a demon and takes possession of all reason.  Thus did we find ourselves boiling peanuts, fashioning a dessert from a tuber, and deep-frying poultry and onions.  I'll pause now while you look up the number for child protective services and make a quick phone call.)

While I'm looking for this thing - it's a slicer specifically designed to make a fried onion blossom; it was a gift from my MIL, okay? - it occurs to me that we take far too little time to acknowledge and celebrate the kitchen gadgets in our lives.  So I hereby proclaim today, April 3, 2011, the first annual Kitchen Gadget Appreciation Day.

Please take a moment to dig out and handle your gnocchi paddles and strawberry hullers and all the other little objects lurking toward the back of your kitchen drawers.  They're special.  Though we may not use them often, they're always there when we need them.  Let them know how much they're appreciated.

Quiz

This is:

a)  midcoast Maine on April 1, 2011
b)  more than a foot of snow
c)  not a joke
d)  becoming ridiculous
e)  all of the above







(photo cred:  my colleague K)