In continuation of yesterday’s “tag” post, I must confess an additional curiosity, one that’s specific to the kitchen.
I possess several idiosyncratic kitchenware attachments.
I could be referring to the sausage-making accessories for my Kitchen-Aid (which have yet to be opened; every time I feel the urge, I end up in giggles, thinking of the Seinfeld episode when Kramer takes over Jerry’s apartment to make heaps of sausage; here's the video link of the clip:
Seinfeld sausage ). But I’m not. Rather, it’s my reluctance to abandon a select group of my cruddiest kitchen trappings.
What makes it worth mentioning is that I enjoy getting rid of things. Filling recycling bags, loading boxes full of outgrown and unworn clothes for Goodwill, giving the junk drawer a clean sweep—it all gives me a trifling, but pleasurable buzz.
Yet I still have and use my crusty-rusty muffin pan, crooked tomato knife, and 13-year-old dented, non-stick frying pan. Ugly, cheap, and bent out of shape, they are barely fodder for a junk sale. But shucks, they do the job. They’re familiar and comfortable. And whether you cook, paraglide, garden, or golf, I'm sure you'll agree that it’s always a good feeling to use equipment that feels right, no matter how quirky, clumsy or unfashionable.
Propelling me on this tangent was my lunch: an omelet. This meant my three dollar wonder pan, petite and ideal for solo omelets, was put to use.
I appreciate that eating an omelet for lunch is unremarkable, but hear me out. I can be such a blockhead, forgetting how perfect eggs are for a quick meal; it seemed worthy of a reminder to one and all. Apparently I remembered today because I was very hungry when noon rolled around, had no dinner leftovers (we went out last night, and I ate Friday night leftovers for yesterday’s lunch), and I was weary of soup and sandwiches. More importantly, the package of eggs more or less leapt into my hands from its precarious perch across a ziplock bag of bran muffins and half-eaten carton of Yoplait.
I like my omelets uncluttered (please, no triple-meat orgy omelets); I actually enjoy the taste of egg. I also have a fondness for brown edges, hence my preferred method of quick tilt, cook and fold (I'll get around to a rolled French omelet one of these days). Finally, I like to wait a minute before eating my omelet, to ensure that the cheese is warm and fully melted. Throw in some fresh herbs, and it’s a breakfast, brunch, lunch or dinner that’s hard to beat, in time, elegance and simplicity. I hope you’ll remember omelets, too.
In Other News from the Kitchen Front… I was inspired by Jenny’s bread-baking activities over at
Picky Palate (Jenny, you rock), so I resurrected the
Ciabatta recipe I’ve used a few times now, and commenced baking.
I first made this bread a few days before delivering Nick (I am sure this is providing a clearer picture of my nutty ways). My parents and sister were visiting and waiting for the dude debut, and I was in turbo nesting mode, cooking up a storm. It was late June and the weather was pushing 100 (and the humidity 100%), which may sound like a bizarre time to start baking bread (especially when you factor in a gigantic belly). But East Texas summers are akin to North Dakota winters: for heaven's sake, seal the doors and stay inside.
So inside we stayed, with air conditioners on full tilt. The kneading, rising and baking were a big gooey, misshapen mess. Hence we were all incredulous when the final products (two giant loaves) were both beautiful and delicious.
I’ve made the same recipe several times since, with considerably less detritus in my wake. This is thanks in large part to my use of a stand mixer for all of the mixing and kneading. Even when I’m completely distracted for one reason or another (uhh…Nick?), the recipe always works.
Last, please know that I am posting this with the best of intentions (i.e., “please try baking this bread, or any yeast bread; it’s fun and delicious,” not “look at me! I can bake bread, too!”). I do not consider myself a bread baker, merely a bread eater; I do the former for the sole sake of the latter. Perhaps if you savor fresh bread, you’ll consider doing the same. The process is enjoyable (a good excuse to hang around the house, and who can beat some serious punching and squishing?), and the subsequent slices are supreme, especially in the company of an easy omelet.
Fresh Herb & Cheese Omelet (for one) My parents always add a bit of milk to scrambled eggs; it makes for an especially soft set. I do the same with my omelets for the same reason. Fresh herbs make all the difference here; it’s a good way to use up leftover herbs from another dish. I did just that here: I had some leftover parsley from the parsnips salad of Friday, and our sad patch of backyard herbs that survived the winter include a few crisp wisps of chives. I used some grated Manchego today, but you can use any tasty cheese of your choice. 2 large eggs
1 tablespoon lowfat milk
3 teaspoons chopped fresh chives
3 teaspoons chopped fresh parsley
Salt & freshly ground pepper
1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons coarsely grated OR crumbled pungent cheese (e.g., Manchego, Romano Goat Cheese, Feta, Blue Cheese, Parmesan, etc.)
Use a fork to whisk eggs and milk together. Stir in chives and parsley. Season well with salt and pepper.
Heat the olive oil in a small non-stick frying pan over medium-high heat. Add the eggs to the pan. Use a fork to quickly draw the cooked egg back from edge of pan to allow uncooked egg to run to the edge. Continue until egg is almost set.
Cook 30-45 seconds longer or until egg is just set; sprinkle cheese over. Use a fork to lift one side of omelet over to enclose the filling. Carefully slide onto a serving plate. Serve immediately. Makes 1 serving.
Nutrition per Serving (entire omelet):
Calories 256; Fat 17.4g (sat 6.3g, mono 8.3g, poly 1.9g); Protein 18.9g; Cholesterol 436.9mg; Carbohydrate 2.1g; Sodium 377.1mg.
(Note: I did the nutrition analysis using
Diet Analysis Plus 7.0.1 )
In continuation of yesterday’s “tag” post, I must confess an additional curiosity, one that’s specific to the kitchen.
I possess several idiosyncratic kitchenware attachments.
I could be referring to the sausage-making accessories for my Kitchen-Aid (which have yet to be opened; every time I feel the urge, I end up in giggles, thinking of the Seinfeld episode when Kramer takes over Jerry’s apartment to make heaps of sausage; here's the video link of the clip: Seinfeld sausage ). But I’m not. Rather, it’s my reluctance to abandon a select group of my cruddiest kitchen trappings.
What makes it worth mentioning is that I enjoy getting rid of things. Filling recycling bags, loading boxes full of outgrown and unworn clothes for Goodwill, giving the junk drawer a clean sweep—it all gives me a trifling, but pleasurable buzz.
Yet I still have and use my crusty-rusty muffin pan, crooked tomato knife, and 13-year-old dented, non-stick frying pan. Ugly, cheap, and bent out of shape, they are barely fodder for a junk sale. But shucks, they do the job. They’re familiar and comfortable. And whether you cook, paraglide, garden, or golf, I'm sure you'll agree that it’s always a good feeling to use equipment that feels right, no matter how quirky, clumsy or unfashionable.
Propelling me on this tangent was my lunch: an omelet. This meant my three dollar wonder pan, petite and ideal for solo omelets, was put to use.
I appreciate that eating an omelet for lunch is unremarkable, but hear me out. I can be such a blockhead, forgetting how perfect eggs are for a quick meal; it seemed worthy of a reminder to one and all. Apparently I remembered today because I was very hungry when noon rolled around, had no dinner leftovers (we went out last night, and I ate Friday night leftovers for yesterday’s lunch), and I was weary of soup and sandwiches. More importantly, the package of eggs more or less leapt into my hands from its precarious perch across a ziplock bag of bran muffins and half-eaten carton of Yoplait.
I like my omelets uncluttered (please, no triple-meat orgy omelets); I actually enjoy the taste of egg. I also have a fondness for brown edges, hence my preferred method of quick tilt, cook and fold (I'll get around to a rolled French omelet one of these days). Finally, I like to wait a minute before eating my omelet, to ensure that the cheese is warm and fully melted. Throw in some fresh herbs, and it’s a breakfast, brunch, lunch or dinner that’s hard to beat, in time, elegance and simplicity. I hope you’ll remember omelets, too.
In Other News from the Kitchen Front…
I was inspired by Jenny’s bread-baking activities over at Picky Palate (Jenny, you rock), so I resurrected the Ciabatta recipe I’ve used a few times now, and commenced baking.
I first made this bread a few days before delivering Nick (I am sure this is providing a clearer picture of my nutty ways). My parents and sister were visiting and waiting for the dude debut, and I was in turbo nesting mode, cooking up a storm. It was late June and the weather was pushing 100 (and the humidity 100%), which may sound like a bizarre time to start baking bread (especially when you factor in a gigantic belly). But East Texas summers are akin to North Dakota winters: for heaven's sake, seal the doors and stay inside.
So inside we stayed, with air conditioners on full tilt. The kneading, rising and baking were a big gooey, misshapen mess. Hence we were all incredulous when the final products (two giant loaves) were both beautiful and delicious.
I’ve made the same recipe several times since, with considerably less detritus in my wake. This is thanks in large part to my use of a stand mixer for all of the mixing and kneading. Even when I’m completely distracted for one reason or another (uhh…Nick?), the recipe always works.
Last, please know that I am posting this with the best of intentions (i.e., “please try baking this bread, or any yeast bread; it’s fun and delicious,” not “look at me! I can bake bread, too!”). I do not consider myself a bread baker, merely a bread eater; I do the former for the sole sake of the latter. Perhaps if you savor fresh bread, you’ll consider doing the same. The process is enjoyable (a good excuse to hang around the house, and who can beat some serious punching and squishing?), and the subsequent slices are supreme, especially in the company of an easy omelet.
Fresh Herb & Cheese Omelet (for one)
My parents always add a bit of milk to scrambled eggs; it makes for an especially soft set. I do the same with my omelets for the same reason. Fresh herbs make all the difference here; it’s a good way to use up leftover herbs from another dish. I did just that here: I had some leftover parsley from the parsnips salad of Friday, and our sad patch of backyard herbs that survived the winter include a few crisp wisps of chives. I used some grated Manchego today, but you can use any tasty cheese of your choice.
2 large eggs
1 tablespoon lowfat milk
3 teaspoons chopped fresh chives
3 teaspoons chopped fresh parsley
Salt & freshly ground pepper
1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons coarsely grated OR crumbled pungent cheese (e.g., Manchego, Romano Goat Cheese, Feta, Blue Cheese, Parmesan, etc.)
Use a fork to whisk eggs and milk together. Stir in chives and parsley. Season well with salt and pepper.
Heat the olive oil in a small non-stick frying pan over medium-high heat. Add the eggs to the pan. Use a fork to quickly draw the cooked egg back from edge of pan to allow uncooked egg to run to the edge. Continue until egg is almost set.
Cook 30-45 seconds longer or until egg is just set; sprinkle cheese over. Use a fork to lift one side of omelet over to enclose the filling. Carefully slide onto a serving plate. Serve immediately. Makes 1 serving.
Nutrition per Serving (entire omelet):
Calories 256; Fat 17.4g (sat 6.3g, mono 8.3g, poly 1.9g); Protein 18.9g; Cholesterol 436.9mg; Carbohydrate 2.1g; Sodium 377.1mg.
(Note: I did the nutrition analysis using Diet Analysis Plus 7.0.1 )