DIY Food Network Fallen Star

I love cooking shows, but they're very unrealistic. Even the Top Chef competitions don't really challenge cooks to push themselves past their comfort zones. They have fully stocked kitchens and sous chefs and secret exotic ingredients. Most people who cook don't have to worry about crazy ingredients they must incorporate, but rather essential ingredients they can't.

For example, you begin to make french toast for dinner, and find out you have no eggs, but only after you've put the milk and cinnamon and vanilla together, so you dump a whole box of banana muffin mix into the milk cinnamon mix and make banana pancakes. Preparing to make hot dogs, you discover you have no onions or mustard. Welcome to the world of inventive condiments! Yes, putting cauliflower tater tots on top of the hot dogs wins cool points, and drizzling them with the trace elements of ketchup from the leftover packets from the car might make for good tv drama, but no freshly dressed MC ever stepped out of the kitchen cabinet to award me with Top Chef points and a cleaned kitchen for making a silk purse dinner out of a sow's ear stocked refrigerator.

It's not that I don't plan a menu or shop for the meals or cook, it's that at any given moment, I must cope with all the want-a-be iron chefs or at least Food Network Star Judges, who want not just food but the right food, the perfect food, the food they don't know what it is, but want served now, hot and beautiful.

Real Conversation:

 "MOM! There is no food in the house! Can you go to the store and get bananas?"

Me: There is food in the house. There just aren't any bananas.
Son: There are no eggs.
Me: There is bacon.
Son: There is no bread.
Me: There are rolls. There are tortillas. There is dark wheat bread, plain ordinary store white bread and the ends of at least three loaves all stuffed in one plastic bag and five blueberry bagels.
Son: There is no lunch meat.
Me: There is steak-um, I already said bacon, there is peanut butter, there is provolone and if you forage, I think, some chicken.
Son: There isn't any food that's easy to make.
Me: So if I get up and make you food from what we have, would you be happy?
Son: Yes! I'll even practice the S.A.T.

Because I want the S.A.T to be practiced, I'm willing to be bribed. I begin work on hot dogs.
Daughter comes into the room. "Hot dogs? I don't like hot dogs! Mom! Can you go to the store, there is no food."
Son now points out there are tortillas, bacon, peanut butter, blueberry bagels....daughter sticks out her tongue at each, but pulls out a box of mac and cheese. "Can we have this?" It goes with the hot dogs, so I roll with it. I'm getting a chorus of yays! and I'm thinking, this is good. I'm a good mom...they'll eat, they'll be happy...

Another player entered the kitchen. She got out the celery and nutella, and peeled a mango before announcing, she ordered out because she doesn't like hot dogs or mac and cheese and does anyone else want anything? They deserted me faster than I could spell dessert.

When I served the mac and cheese and hot dogs to the remaining children, I got the question, reasonable in my younger childrens' minds, "why didn't they get to order food too?" I recalled a neighbor who used to make her kid eat her dinner for breakfast and lunch, and snack, until it got eaten. I used to think this a cruel parenting practice. I admittedly reconsidered but revenge is for the unimaginative, so today I posted a message in the kitchen, explaining the reality of things in the family mess hall.

Dear Family

I considered declaring food martial law. If you don't pay for the food, make the food or clean up after the food, you get no say in what the food might be or alternatives to eat.

However, I recognize, there are twelve different diets, different palates to please and I've yet to hit upon the magical combination of fruits, vegetables, proteins and carbs that can accommodate all of your ever shifting appetites. In recognition of my inability to create a dish which uses all of the unknown secret ingredients necessary to the competition, and because that which is created is not up to industry standards as determined by all eleven judges in this house, I'm sorry but Mom has been chopped.

Whoever the other competitors are in this kitchen, I've taken away all of the car keys. Please, open the pantry and you have thirty minutes to create an entree and your time starts now. Oh, and I've been told repeatedly, there is no food. 

Good luck.

Love, Mom

I'm Sorry Mom, You Have Been Chopped

Mom! What's for dinner?

I have cooked meals in this household since it became a household, and no one has ever been poisoned or even slightly agitated by my cooking.

Until today.

You see, my kids watch Food Network, it's one of our favorites.  Unfortunately, it has lead one of them to think it is their mission in life to never experience a non gourmet meal.

Which meant when the answer was "Hot dogs," I was given an impromptu lecture on how unhealthy such fare is for children.   Adding raw carrots and black beans did not change the critic's mind. So I also fixed a Caesar salad.  I figured, I had him.

Except I fixed it from scratch.  Meaning, the lettuce came as a head, not in a bag with all the ingredients presorted and prewashed and pre-torn.  

"You don't make Caesar salad with that sort of lettuce..." he explained.
"Yes you do. Caesar salad uses romaine.  People used to just buy heads of lettuce, wash them, tear them up and use them."
"Prove it!"

So the guy who doesn't know how to make a Caesar salad is telling the Mom who introduce him to Caesar salad to provide evidence that Caesar salad uses Romaine.  I produce a cook book.

"That's old.  No one uses a cook book anymore. It's not proof."  Producing a second, third and fourth cook book did not change his mind.

I pull up recipes on the internet.  They collaborate my understanding of Caesar salads.  I even explain that they used to make Caesar salads with raw eggs and in some restaurants, with anchovies  in an attempt to round out my knowledge of all things related to Caesar salad.

Meanwhile he'd been googling on his i-phone.  The recipe did not mention a particular lettuce, which to the expert teen's mind meant Vindication.  Thus I listened to a smug adolescent explain that I didn't understand how to really cook. "There's only one way that's the right way." he explained.

I handed him a bowl full of romaine tossed with croutons, a Caesar dressing, salt, pepper and parmesean.  He ate it all, and ate what was to be my and his sister's serving.  

I looked at him and the empty salad bowl. I was feeling smug and triumphant.  Except I'm dealing with a teenager.

He told me, "It's still wrong."

What's For Dinner...what are you cooking?

I'm in trouble.  I've started working out at the gym again.  Thus, I've started watching the Food Network again. The children should know what that means...I will be experimenting with FOOD.
They will suffer.   Because I like experimenting with FOOD.

Friday:  We're doing blueberry waffles and bacon for dinner.   It's festive, warm, filling and perfect for a Friday night when we're planning on watching SHERLOCK: The Abominable Bride.  Yes, I've already seen it.  I will watch it again, so I can catch some of the very sly humor laced in this episode.  Enjoy.

Saturday: Marc loves to make baked ziti with sausage.  So we're having baked ziti with sausage.  

Sunday:  On Saturday, I defrosted two briskets which I trimmed of some of the fat, scored and then coated with brown sugar, salt, white pepper, black pepper and kosher salt.   (1 cup, 2 tablespoons 1 tablespoon, 2 tablespoons, 3 table spoons).   They sat overnight in a plate, sealed in a ziplock.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Put meat in a foil tray, let cook for one hour.

Take brisket out.  Drop temperature to 300.

In the tray, make a bed for the brisket.  (Long carrots and celery laid on the bottom of a foil tray).   I placed the meat on top of the tray and then put 1 bottle of brown ale and two cups of chicken stock or one coca-cola and two cups of chicken stock or two cups of coffee and two cups of chicken stock in the bottom of the tray. (Bottom line, 4 cups of liquid on the bottom of the tray so the meat will get steamed in it, without soaking in it).  

Cover the tray with foil.

Let it cook for three hours. Take out, let sit for 15 minutes.  Cut against the grain.  
Save 2 cups of liquid, mix with your favorite bbq sauce in a sauce pan.  Serve and stand back.

Monday:  Pasta Night with Meatballs.

Tuesday:  Caesar Chicken Breasts  

Preheat oven to 350.

Foil tray.  Pat dry chicken. (Skin on).  Place chicken breasts on a tray.  Salt. Pepper.  Pulse in a mixer or food processor, one tin of Anchovies, the juice of a lemon, five garlic cloves, three tablespoons of mayo, salt, pepper, chopped parsley, and olive oil (1/4).   Paint chicken skin with a homemade Caesar.   Salt and pepper again.   Cover with foil.  Put in oven, forget about for an hour. Take foil off, let crisp at broil for 5 minutes.  

Grate Parmesan cheese over the chicken while it's still hot.  

Toss a salad of greens with a Caesar or oil and vinegar.  Place chicken on top.  Serve with fresh bread.

Wednesday:  Pork tenderloin tortilla wraps.  
Marinate pork tenderloins in oj/soy garlic olive oil marinade for 1 hour before cooking.  While waiting for it to get tender, make the yellow rice, black beans, cucumber salad and guacamole.
Sliver the tomatoes, peppers and onions.
Saute tomatoes, bell pepper and onions in oil until soft, carmelized yummy mess.

Broil the tenderloins 5 minutes, turn, 5 minutes, turn, 5 minutes turn, 5 minutes.
Let rest for ten minutes while you prep the meals.
Wrap tortillas in foil.  Place in tortillas in already warm oven, turn it to 350 to let them get prepped.
On each plate place rice, beans on top, and then guacamole on the side.  No chips on the plate, they'll eat them too fast.  Put the chips in baskets in the middle.   Shred the meat.  Serve on tortillas with the sauteed vegetable yumminess.   No leftovers. No one upset.  Very festive, very happy food time for all.

I do have some squash, I'm going to broil vegetables this week, and serve them.  I also plan to toss in some kale somewhere, so if the kids are reading this....be afraid.  Be very afraid.

7 Quick Takes Friday

1.  My hair

See yesterday's post for the story. I only have one picture so far.  My son snapped it with his cell phone.  Here you go folks. 

I'll stop complaining.  It's just a shock to me, not what I've been used to, and I hadn't planned to go this dark. 

2.  Anna Maria Finally has a tooth! 

She's 8 months and we're finally getting one.  Given how fussy she was for this one, I'm not looking forward to the incoming remaining 19 or so we will have to endure.   But I love her smile.  I love the way her upper lip is a bit crooked when she grins.  She's jamming her whole five fingers in her mouth right now so I predict a shower of teeth in the upcoming weeks. 

Obigatory Cute Baby Picture

Last days of the toothless grin.


3.  In the News Today...things happened, people are hurting, our side is right, if you think otherwise, you're a dope.  That is all.

I'm starting to think about giving up being informed because it's hard to sift through all the stuff right, left, radical, commonsense, opinion, fact on any topic, even the weather.   What is hyperbole in this day and age?  What is truth?  For a time, I tried reading opposite ends of the spectrum but who has that kind of mental energy?  For a time, I cherry picked from real clear politics, the Washington post and the radio.  But how do I know if I'm just seeking my comfort zone and ignoring reality if I only read my favorites?  And how do I keep from poisoning my own spirit while trying to stay informed? We have plenty of voices with earnest conviction, cheerleaders for their side, but how many of them are of both Truth and Charity?   

4.  The Credit Card Diet

Last month, my son started gaining the Freshman 15, he got as far as 7.  Then, we saw the bill.  A lot of dining at McDonald's and California Pizza will do that. After paying his tab, my son voluntarily gave up his credit card.  He's lost five pounds.  Wondering if I should follow suit. 

5. The Food Network has Ruined Me

Ah, the irony of juxtapositioning blurbs. 

When I watch TV, I watch those cooking shows like Top Chef and Iron Chef and Food Truck Race and Diners Drive Ins and Dives and Good Eats.  These days, I get to see about two a week. But even at that regulated pace, I now cannot fully enjoy myself at a restaurant. The other day, I went to a Mexican food place we don't normally haunt.  I found my brain saying, "This salsa has a wonderful chunkiness and flavor but it lacks that third element that makes it a salsa; there's no heat or bite to this, it's like a gazpatso with cumin and cilantro.  If it were a soup, it would be rocking but as a salsa, it falls flat."  Cue dramatic music while the chef hangs her head in shame.   I'm left wondering, "How did Bobby Flay and Robert Irvine get in my brain and how do I get them out?" Hint to Sherry: Give up eating out.

6.  What I'm Trying to Read

Discovering Chesterton after 40 is probably best.  Just starting on his autobiography.  My problem with reading is when I get to the end of the day, I start to read and I'm instantly down for the count.  No insomnia here.  But it does mean finishing a book is s.....l....o....w....g...o...i...n...g. I have to hope G.K. is amused because I've been at this three days.  I'm on page 3.

7. Halloween

Being immature at heart, I love this holiday.  Right now, I have to create Rainbow Dash, Twilight Sparkle and Fluttershy, yes I've got three My Little Ponies at my house.  I'll post pictures when they're finished.
I don't know what the boys are going to be, but that's my project for this weekend.   What are you doing for October 31st?

Not Named Jeffy's Vacation

You may or may not know my mother is in sunny San Diego right now. You probably do not know that I was the one who wanted to go to San Diego this year. That's right! She stole my idea!

What is so wrong about four teenage guys and their plan to traverse the nation in love of comic books and all things nerdy, culminating in the San Diego Comi-Con?

So Mom is off at sunny beaches, restaurants recommended by Food Network, and in all likelihood nerdy things I'm missing out on. Comi-Con doesn't start till next week. In my personal opinion she's setting up a booth and finding people to man it. She didn't want me going, because I would find out about her alter-ego as a comic-book author. Not as impressive as super hero, but geeky enough that you might want to hide it from people.

I think its cool Mom. (What does that say about me?) Your double life is no reason to prevent me from joining a group of inexperienced at driving teenage guys road tripping all the way across the country!

Wanting me to be at a local theater for the midnight showing of the Captain America movie might be a legitimate reason though...

Maybe I Watch the Food Network a Little Too Much

Yesterday, I served dinner.  It was standard pasta rigatoni with butter, a touch of cheese and green beans on the side.  Admittedly, I used paper plates since no one including me was feeling too up on doing the dishes. 

My five year old said, "Thank you chef." and after blessing, took a delicate bite of pasta.  She raised her hand and said, "Chef, could you come  here a moment?"  She then explained that maybe her dish had a little too much salt.  "Did you taste the food before you served?" she asked giving an Iron Chef judge type searing look into my eyes.  I was waiting for her to say, "Please pack your knives and go." when she then was overridden by her younger (YOUNGER) sister, three weeks from four.  "I think it's very good pasta.  The sauce is nice."  she explained. 

"You could have added shrimp. It would have been even better with a touch of shrimp." my eleven year old son suggested.

"And it would look better and be more appetizing if it was served on real plates." my other son put in by way of concurrence. 

"But I don't know how many of you like shrimp, and I do know all of you like buttered pasta." I began.

"Well, you know Mom, you really could expand your flavor palate for us." my oldest daughter volunteered.  Mind you, I cook 33 meals a day minimum, (not counting snacks) and serving for the masses has watered down my menu, I don't want to put forth effort to receive "This tastes like yuck." as a response.

Facing the reality that these food critics were very kindly telling me to step it up a notch, I agreed to designated one night a week for experimentation night.  As I mull through the possibilities, browsing my cook books in a day dreamy kind of way, the realist in me pipes up.  "Ten bucks says next week when you serve them sausage and polenta....they ask for cold cereal or buttered pasta."  But I'm still game, and if the realist turns out to be right after a month of experimentation, I may have to cut back on watching Food Network.

Hello and Welcome from LaLa Land

This morning I decided to push myself and make biscuits and sausage for breakfast. Having watched two hours of the Food Network last night, my brain was already running a streaming commentary on the nature of these beautiful little bread products. How easy they were. I tossed the baking powder, flour, Crisco and salt in with an extra flourish and began mashing with a fork.

"Look at this. No mixer. That's Old school." I could hear the spiky haired Guy Fieri of Diner's Drive-ins and Dives voice over. I thought about how the camera would pan around my kitchen and about the lead in, "Substitutions are welcome." as I explained that I didn't have a biscuit cutter or a pastry maker but an ice cream scooper and a fork worked just as well.

I then looked at my non regulatory kitchen with six different spoons and five knives thrown hastily into a drawer along with four paper cut out coupons from the back of a cereal box. I decided my inelegant organization would be part of the show, part of my character. I'd be a real person who had to cook for real people with a real kitchen that didn't always have the ingredients on hand, and who had to make food not just with a time crunch, but which people would actually eat. My kids would be the test audience.

"Most food shows use the throw pillow technique to make food look awesome. There's the base and all the foo foo stuff on top in an artful way. This would be a meal without all the throw pillows. What mattered was the mattress and the blanket and the pillow." And if I messed up with something I’d say a signature line like “Oh well, I get busy talking and while it never happens in fake world, but it happens here…"

"Mom," my daughter interrupted, "Your sausage IS burning."

"Just flip it dear." I murmured, as I was still off on a food network bender binge with a show on organization and how I am the worst with clutter. I'd even opened a drawer or two to illustrate. It wasn't until I started considering how I'd make the pitch to an agent that I realized, I had not pre-heated the oven for the biscuits I'd been showcasing in this narrative although my daughter had saved the sausage.
For the Easter show, I'm clearly going to need more sous chefs.