Fish Tacos... Ambrosia of the Sea

Here's me applying some lime to my little bundle of yummy, Ala Rubio's.

 Mexican food is delicious. That's a no brainer. Fake Mexican food is also delicious. Hence Qdoba, Chipotle, Taco del Mar and Chevy's. Fake Mexican food at home... it doesn't always come out right.

Luckily fish tacos came out so, so right.

I started out with some awesome cod fillets that I purchased from, you guessed it, Whole Foods. I dredged them in flour seasoned with Goya Hot Adobo and fried them in a little vegetable oil. No wet dipping, no batter, no deep frying.

As the pieces turned golden brown and crispy I put them on a wire rack in the oven over a drip tray to complete the cooking process and added fresh pieces to the hot oil. A little fish cooking assembly line.

As far as tortillas go I love love love these little corn flour ones from La Tortilla Factory. They're not brittle, don't need steaming to stay soft and they're a little thicker and more toothsome than a plain flour tortilla. We had both the yellow and white corn flour varieties.

To make the tradish taco sides (rice and beans) I am a super cheater. I use one can of Embasa Salsa Mexicana and a half cup of water for every cup of Minute Rice plus a teaspoon or two of McCormick Hot Taco Seasoning to taste.


Samesies with the beans; a can of salsa + taco seasoning and/or Taco Bell hot sauce to a can of drained black beans.

It has to simmer down a bit and it turns out pretty tasty, especially for at home fake Mexican food. By far not the best beans I've ever had, but I can't seem to find those in the states.

For fixin's we went with a mix of shredded cabbage and lettuce, some homemade salsa Rojas and salsa Verde (which will be another post), a little Tillamook cheddar jack blend and some sour cream. Oh, yes, and the oh-so-important squeeze of lime!

Yummeroo! All you need is an icy pomegranate margarita and some fried cheesecake burrito dessert and you have yourself a fake Mexican fiesta! Oh-lay!

Soup for the Sick

9.2.13 Note - Due to mishaps in the blogosphere many pictures were deleted from this blog.  I've done my best to add them back in but, unfortunately, the ones for this post pre-date my laptop.  Please imagine everything to be perfectly mouthwatering - Jessie

We were off to a strong start, weren't we? And then a week of no posts at all... Well, Sunday was the Superbowl; not a lot of mystique in hot dogs and Doritos (although I may have to share some potato salad goodness at some point), and since then I've been getting/having a bad head cold. I don't cook much when I'm sick because I don't eat much when I'm sick. Also, I use my sense of smell an awful lot when I'm cooking, and when that's screwed up I might as well do everything with my eyes closed. It would all come out the same amount of crappy.

So what's the most comforting thing to have when you're sick? Soup! Luckily I've had some on hand. I made some delectable French Onion soup last week and just finished it up yesterday. It was like a warm, silky blanket of love on my cold, itchy throat.

I don't have a recipe for this one since I just make it by feel but I can show-and-tell... I like to use different kinds of onion for more depth of flavor. I don't know what it is, but lately, for the past six months or so, I've seen a boom in the population of sweet onions in my local grocery stores. So I used some Mayan Sweets, some regular white onions and a big shallot along with some fresh thyme:

I like some good-sized pieces of onion in my soup so I did a pretty rough chop on the sweets, finer on the whites which are smaller and then thin slices of shallot. Thyme is a pain in the ass if you want the actual bits of herb in the soup; you have to scale the leaves off of the stem. When I have it kitchen twine or cheesecloth on-hand I put my thyme and dried bay leaf into a bouquet garni but no such luck this time. So I peeled off the tiny little leaves for my soup.

I sweated the onions in some butter and olive oil for awhile until the delectableness and intensity of the aroma was virtually unbearable. I could have smeared it on bread and been done with it, but I was hell-bent on soup. Typically French Onion soup has beef stock and broth and red wine, but I was in the mood for something lighter so I chose a rosé.

This is a 2008 Mulderbosch rosé of cab; very fruity and slightly floral which plays well off the sweet onion, fresh thyme and dried bay leaf. To keep the lightness I finished it with Swanson beef and chicken broth with a ratio of 2:1. It simmered for a good hour before gracing a heavy bowl laden with Gruyere cheese and a crusty crouton made of Grand Central Bakery's Como bread from Metropolitan Market; my south sound substitute for Whole Foods when I'm feeling uppity.
I wish I had more pictures but my camera died pretty early in the process. Needless to say it was delicious and soupy and worth the smell of onions lingering in the kitchen for days after. I wish I had some right now, but will have to settle for other leftovers. Lasagna anyone?

Beans & Cornbread (Not a veggie friendly post)

I have a long history of not following directions very well when it comes to cooking. Obviously. Luckily this has very rarely been to my detriment; I believe that what makes food good is leaving room for interpretation. I taste as I go and I tweak to my liking or to the liking of those I'm serving. I feel that recipes are outlines that point you in the right direction, not the gospel of food. Unless it's baking, that's science. Maybe adding a little almond extract here or substituting dark chocolate for milk chocolate there, but never any big, grand gestures.

The one exception to this rule that I've found so far is cornbread. In a pinch, I've been known to doctor up canned or frozen elements to create some quick and tasty potluck items on a shoestring budget and last minute notice.

This epiphany dawned upon me when I was invited to an annual event a couple years ago:

That's right. An event called Pork-A-Palooza. A 24 hour festival of pig, Pabst, potluck and people I've never met. I fear feeding people I've never met so I knew I had to come up with something tasty, barbecue compatible and cheap since I actually had to borrow the gas money from my mom to get to the get-together.

A trip to my local Grocery Outlet yielded 6 bags of generic cornbread mix for $1.00. This is not even on par with Jiffy; it's essentially bags of cornmeal mixed with dry milk. Now is a good time to mention I had never before made cornbread. Correction: I'd never made cornbread before that wasn't Jiffy. Jiffy was my base line.

The instructions were very similar to Jiffy; add this and that, bake for this long, yadda yadda. When I dumped the packet into the bowl I stared at the paltry dust of meal and milk and had an overwhelming Richard Dreyfuss moment... We're gonna need a bigger boat.

On hand I had some frozen corn, some awesome Snoqualmie Valley Honey of the Thistle variety (my favorite; the bees didn't make it last summer, damn this global warming), brown sugar and a dream. I mixed them all up with the mix and some evaporated milk and a metric butt-ton of butter. It turned out like this:

Awesomeness. Sweet, tender, studded with tiny bursts of corniness, nice crisp top and bottom and cute little swirlies that I made with a bamboo skewer. This was my test batch and it turned out better than I could have hoped! I made two half hotel pans, one with corn kernels and one without. Because I ran out of corn and couldn't afford more. We're in a recession, you know.

I had some Van de Camps Pork & Beans as well ($0.10 a can, righteous) that I doctored with some brown sugar, honey, Dijon mustard, Frank's RedHot and bacon ends and pieces bought for insanely cheap from Stewart's Meats in McKenna; a beautiful example of local meat marquetry founded in the depression era by Emmet Stewart. Worth the drive, stock up your freezer.

Both cheap-as-free dishes paired very well with the main course:

At the end of it all both dishes were well received. Around midnight there were drunken men, young and old, sitting around a kitchen table sopping up bean sauce with cornbread crust and muttering about "fatback" and obsessing over drips and crumbs. So much for hangover leftovers.

Lesson learned: Never be afraid of a small budget, a large crowd or an opportunity to express yourself creatively in a medium of discount groceries.

Macaroni & Deliciousness

There are many things in the culinary world that I find insanely and often unjustly intimidating. For example; Pâte à choux, Hollandaise Sauce and anything that involves beating egg whites into stiff peaks. It was my unreasonable fear of Roux that prevented me from ever making Macaroni & Cheese from scratch. But a fearless friend of mine told me that it's much easier than it looks, and that if I can make white gravy I can make Macaroni & Cheese.


Coming from a bloodline that has made it's course through many a bacon clogged artery, I am no stranger to a basic white gravy. There have been many, many (shamefully many) mornings where I have bared witness to the starchy, creamy, pepper flecked sauce (laden with Jimmy Dean sausage) being ladled bountifully over fluffy, dense biscuits. I know how to make it, I've made it since I was old enough to stand on a step stool and hold a whisk. I bleed gravy.


Not literally, that's gross.


Around the same time my friend gave her words of encouragement I had an outrageous craving to try something new, delicious, and made with goat cheese. You know me, I love goat cheese. I found this simple recipe on the Southern Food website that worked great and have played off it a million times since. It tricked me into making a Roux by never referring to it as a Roux. Great tactic. And I trust the South can make some Roux.


Here are my beginnings. I was going for blonde, but this is quickly after the butter began to sputter and the flour was soaked up:

I chose to use some chive & herbed chèvre, Tillamook Vintage White Extra Sharp Cheddar and some grated Parmesan. I omitted the herbs, since my cheese was herbed, and I used evaporated milk in lieu of 2%. It was not orange enough for my liking, so I added some red food color gel. Here it is before I put it in the oven:

Not everyone is a fan of breadcrumbs on Mac & Che so half way through cooking I topped it off with the next best thing; more cheese. This time I went for the plain ol' shredded cheddar, probably Kraft or Sargento, and more Parmesan:

I don't have any after pictures because it went so fast. I must have done something right.


The first batch was a little grainy, I think I used some cheap Parmesan. Since then I've played around with some different cheeses, especially after our trip to Tillamook last summer:

Gorgeous sunset, no? Anyway, we got some awesome little loaves of roasted garlic, cracked pepper and smoked Cheddars and habanero and Monterrey jacks. I've tinkered and tampered and experimented and once, and only once, failed, like ya do. Some tips I can share are:

• Don't over do your Roux. Medium blonde is good enough, but brown starts to taste too much like beef stew or something
• The finer the shred, the quicker the melt. Obviously. But if you have a thick shred on a soft cheese and a fine thread on a hard cheese they can usually balance out a bit
• A daub of cream cheese can really help balance out a sauce that you fear may turn out to be grainy. So can a blob of sour cream, but that pairs better with medium cheeses
• The Parmesan that comes in a green can in the pasta aisle (aka "Shakey Cheese)... Yea, not so much.

Here's the recipe, I urge you to visit your local cheesemonger and make something yummy!
Ingredients:
8 ounces elbow macaroni (about 2 cups raw)
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
2 cups milk, 2% is fine
1 to 2 tablespoons fresh chopped mixed herbs, or 2 teaspoons dried leaf herbs (thyme, sage, chives, etc.)
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
4 ounces goat cheese with herbs or plain
8 ounces sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
4 ounces shredded Parmesan cheese, divided
1 cup soft bread crumbs
1 tablespoon melted butter
Preparation:
Grease a 2-quart baking dish. Heat oven to 350°.

Cook macaroni following package directions; drain, rinse, and set aside.

In a large saucepan, melt butter over medium-low heat. Stir in flour until well blended and bubbly. Gradually add milk, stirring constantly; continue cooking and stirring until slightly thickened.
Add the herbs, salt, and pepper, then stir in the goat cheese and Cheddar. Stir in about 3 ounces of the Parmesan cheese. Continue cooking and stirring until cheeses have melted.

Stir in the drained macaroni and turn into the prepared baking dish.

Combine bread crumbs with melted butter and toss with the remaining Parmesan cheese. Sprinkle over the casserole.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until bubbly and nicely browned.Serves 4 to 6.