Frog and Goat

We try to go meatless occasionally for dinner. Of course, if I had my act together we could probably do that once a week. It’s not always strict because chicken broth finds its way into many a meal.

Last night it was pretty strict since I had some vegetable broth and so chicken broth didn’t make a guest appearance. I made vegetarian shepherd’s pie from Eating Well. I went with making one pie and not individual ramekins. Mostly because I don’t have individual ramekins and why go through the hassle?

I tweaked the recipe a little by adding a parsnip in when I boiled the russet potatoes (didn’t have yukon golds on hand), but aside from that addition/substitution the recipe was followed. I cooked the lentils earlier in the day in water with Herbs de Provence. I think they were quite flavorful.

The only challenge to the recipe is that it could have used more salt and pepper. The better-half added both to his serving after one bite. I ate part of mine and then added both. I’m a bit shy on using salt but I think the addition helped bring out the flavor.

Here’s what it looked like on the plate (sorry for the slight blur–camera phone):

Here’s a close-up so you can see all the ingredients:

I would recommend this recipe because it’s easy, flavorful and you probably already have all the ingredients on hand. I actually did have some buttermilk around but you could easily just use regular milk. You are making mashed potatoes at that point so do what you like.

I made an artichoke tart last night for dinner. The recipe is here.

For years I’ve known that the better-half liked to eat artichokes, but I always thought it was like I liked to eat artichokes: Oh, artichokes are in this, cool. Just goes to show you that there’s always something to learn about the other half of your pair. The better-half likes artichokes the way I like a hoppy beer. Which is to say A LOT.

Since learning this about six months ago, I’ve tried to seek out artichoke recipes. Hence, seeing the artichoke tart and immediately going out to buy the ingredients.

Yesterday I was in the store looking for not quick-cook polenta when it dawned on me that I could take the grits we have and buzz them in the blender. Because polenta and grits are basically the same thing. Then I got home and emailed a friend and she said, duh just use cornmeal. So I did and my friend was right.

I’d highly recommend the recipe. It isn’t difficult and tastes very good. I think I’ll make the crust again and fill it with the mushroom and blue cheese quiche mixture that I occasionally make. I think the corn will work very well with that recipe too.

Here’s what the tart looked like before baking:

It came out looking a little like deep dish pizza. I like how the crust looks nearly perfect in a rustic way:

I especially like how the artichokes hold up in the dish. The better-half liked it but wanted it to be more artichokey. I’m not sure how I’ll accomplish that next time. There’s not much room for any more artichokes in the pan–I used a 14oz can of quartered artichokes:

I made salted caramels this morning and finished just as the propane company came to add a smidgen more propane to the tank. It’s a good thing the caramels were cooling because if I lost the heat on the stove at the wrong moment someone was going to get hurt (the delivery person turns off the supply line when refilling the tank).

Our propane tank is small and we only use it to run the stove top, but that doesn’t stop our propane company from delivering or at least checking on us every time they are out in the area loading someone’s huge submarine-shaped tank. I predict we could use two deliveries a year, but that’s not up to me. He ended up checking the tank and leaving within about a minute. He shouldn’t have turned off the truck.

Where was I?

It’s been a long time since I made caramel. Maybe I’ve made sauce or butterscotch recently, if recently means in the last 10 years. I like candy. It never occurs to me to make it. Seriously, those two summers of making candy every day cured me.

As I was standing around waiting for 300+ degrees to register on the thermometer, I looked down at my right foot and admired the scar from a bad candy apple situation in the summer of 1987 or 1988. My partner and I were lifting a huge kettle to pour the mixture so we could dip apples. A bit dribbled out onto my foot. Thank god I wasn’t wearing a sock or I’d still be picking pieces of fabric and candy apple goo out of my skin. After that injury the socks with shoes rule was put into effect–I didn’t even go get first aid. Just cleaned up my foot and put a large band aid on it. It hurt like crap for a few days, but I lived.

Back to the story at hand. The caramel went slowly up to 310 degrees and oddly I didn’t have to wipe down the sides of the pot. That’s a lucky break. When I poured the milk/butter/salt/vanilla mixture into the sugar pan, there was one moment when I was seriously worried about boil over and how I’d be hating life all afternoon trying to pry that crap off the stove. Luckily, no worries.

Caramel cooling (with sea salt already applied):

By the way, I didn’t buy a fancy box of sea salt. I bought the grocery store brand–shocking, I know!

As I was letting the caramel cool, I realized it wasn’t really firming up. I think, perhaps, I didn’t take it to a high enough temperature. I guess it’s time for a new thermometer. I stuck the caramel into the refrigerator to see if that would help. It did not.

Sorry for the blur. The camera and caramel were downstairs. The tripod upstairs. One hand trying to focus and snap a picture. The other hand working the spoon. Third hand on vacation.

The taste is pretty freaking awesome. I’m not going to throw the batch out, but will put it into a jar for some other use. There are probably five pieces that turned out OK…I suppose those are from the very center of the pan and got the hottest.

I’ll try again and scout out other recipes to compare. And, the next time I go to the store, I’ll be getting another thermometer.

I made chocolate fudge today. This is a notable event because I probably said at some point in 1989 that I’d never make fudge again. You see, I worked at an amusement park as a candy maker for two summers. I made table after table of fudge. By table I mean chilled aluminum tables like a cadaver might lie on.

Like the stiff, I thought my fudge making days were over. But last night I was telling the better-half that I was going to make salted caramels soon. He asked if I’d make him some fudge. I suggested rocky road because if I have to eat fudge that’s the fudge I want to eat. He said, “Nope. Plain chocolate fudge, please.”

I present plain chocolate fudge: