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More roasted veg.

Christy emailed me this link to a recipe of roasted broccoli with lemon and pecorino romano.  Looks great!  And more holiday-worthy than my Plain Potluck Veg.  I think this is what I will bring to Grandma's next week.

Roast vegetables, four ideas.

OK, first of all, one thing to do is Google "roast vegetables recipe,"  plus any ingredient you particularly want to include, e.g., "roast vegetables broccoli recipe."  There are plenty of hits, and you'll get plenty of ideas.

Second, a plug for two less-fancy-looking roasted vegetables that I make on a regular basis:  roasted asparagus and roasted green beans.  They may not be good enough for Thanksgiving, but they are easy and addictive.   I suppose you could mix them together, though I never have.  Trim and wash them.  Oil a baking pan or jelly roll pan (something with a lip to contain the oil) with as much oil as you like; the minimum is to brush a thin layer on to prevent sticking, the maximum is several tablespoons.  Toss in all your trimmed, washed, patted-dry asparagus or green beans, salt and pepper, and toss with your hands to coat lightly with the oil.  Roast at 400 degrees F until they're done to your liking, tossing occasionally with tongs.  20 minutes is a good amount to start.  You want to get them at least crisp-tender, and the longer they go the browner and wrinklier and more tender they get.  I suppose if you wanted to dress them up for a potluck, you could roast some halved cherry tomatoes alongside and sprinkle them with something else pretty, like slivered almonds or shaved parmesan.  OR BACON!  [ed. Stop that.]

Third, here is a recipe for Garlic-Roasted Vegetables that has more variety but looks easier than what I usually do.  It's from The Volumetrics Eating Plan by Barbara Rolls.

• 1 cup cauliflower flowerets
• 1 cup broccoli flowerets 
• 2 cups 1-in slices of zucchini 
• 1 and 1/2 cups 1-inch carrot sticks 
• 1 1/2 cups thickly sliced onions
• 1 1/2 cups 1-in-diced unpeeled "boiling" potatoes 
•  1 tsp chopped garlic
• 1 tsp dried thyme 
• 1/2 tsp salt 
• 1/4 tsp pepper 
• 1/4 c chopped parsley  

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Coat a 9x13 pan with baking spray [I would rather brush it with olive oil or rub it with coconut oil -- Erin]  Toss everything but the parsley in the baking pan.  Lightly coat with cooking spray.  [yuck -- I repeat, just use olive oil, the fat won't kill you]  Bake for 40-45 min or until the potatoes are tender.  Serve sprinkled with parsley. 

Finally, here is what I do when I make my Plain Roast Vegetable Medley that I like to take to potlucks.  

Be warned:  It really is on the plain side.  It doesn't have any of the characteristics you usually associate with "this would be great for a potluck!"  That honor usually goes to things that are very rich (like fudge) or very comfort-foody (like green bean casserole with the onion topping) or vaguely exotic yet widely appealing ("The secret ingredient is hoisin sauce!")  

No, the thing that makes Plain Roast Vegetable Medley good for potlucks is that nobody else will think to bring a plain roast vegetable medley.  Oh, also, it's vegan and pretty much allergy-free.

Erin's Plain Roast Vegetable Medley For Potlucks

• 2 big bunches broccoli
• 4 big yellow squash 
• Several carrots (at least four, maybe more) 
• Olive oil OR coconut oil
• Minced garlic - between a tsp and a tablespoon 
• Herb of your choice (thyme's good, so's oregano) 

  Cut up the broccoli into 1-inch chunks.  Peel the tough stalk and cut that up into chunks too.  Cut the yellow squash into thick slices, halving them if they're really big.  Cut the carrots into tinier chunks.  Put the vegetables into baking pans that have been lightly greased with olive or (warmed in the preheating oven) coconut oil and toss a little bit to coat with the oil.  Add minced garlic and herb.  Place in the oven.

Turn every ten minutes or so.  

You don't have to do it this way, but:  I typically roast the vegetables in separate pans so I can remove them when each is done exactly how I like them.  Then I toss them together in a big bowl and add salt and pepper while they're still hot.  I usually serve them at room temperature.

Bonus:  The leftovers are excellent tossed with cooked pasta and a little salad dressing.

In-the-mood pasta salad.

I still remember that the very first week I started losing weight, I made myself a giant batch of a particular pasta salad and ate it for lunch every day that week.  I guess it seemed easier than figuring out what to eat, and how many calories in my lunch, five different times.

In honor of that first week -- maybe this will be my last week!  -- I am returning to that same pasta salad.  I figure this to be approximately eight servings at 275-300 calories each; each serving is a "heaping cup" or 180 grams.

• 8 ounces dry whole wheat elbow macaroni
• 4 ounces your favorite expensive salami (I like the herb-coated kind), diced small
• 4 ounces mozzarella or monterey jack cheese, diced small
• 2 large yellow bell peppers, sliced thinly
• About 16 or 20 cherry tomatoes, quartered 
• 5 stalks celery, thinly sliced 
• 1/4 cup olive oil 
• Salt and pepper 
• Oregano, unless you have the herb-coated salami  

Boil the pasta till al dente and drain.  Toss the pasta with the oil, cheese, salami, and vegetables.  Salt and pepper and oregano to taste.  Best at room temperature.

Low-carb version:  Halve the pasta and use Dreamfield's brand low GI pasta; double the salami and cheese.   It's very nice.  

You can certainly stretch it by adding more pasta, up to a pound, but it won't be nearly so vegetabley if you do.  You'll probably also need to add a couple extra tablespoons of oil.

This is my lunch today, along with a few sections of grapefruit.

Boiled egg, tomato juice, and black coffee.

I have always liked this breakfast, but by now it's a kind of talisman.  It puts me in the right state of mind. 

I have three states of mind and being now, so to speak.

1.  where I lived every day before May 13 of this year,  even when I was trying to lose weight:  the place where more food promises to make me feel happier.  I've visited a couple of times since then, enough to know I don't want to stay for long.
2.  where I lived almost every day after May 13 and up to a few weeks ago, powerful and aware, choosing on purpose to feel hunger; hunger, my physical therapy, my cure.  
3. where I'm planning to settle, the place of stability, a place I don't know and don't understand.

The boiled egg first thing in the morning is a signal I send to my self:  This day is for choosing.  Get ready.

There's a ritual to the boiled egg.  I come downstairs, I collect my materials.  The tiny saucepan my mother-in-law gave me.  Two teaspoons.  Egg cup.  Small plate.  Salt and pepper.   The brown egg.  A child's juice glass.  I put the saucepan of water on to boil before I start the coffee.  I wait, warming my hands over the rising steam.  When the water boils I put egg on spoon, slip it into the water carefully (don't crack the shell) and set the timer.  Six minutes later, I turn off the flame, spoon the egg out and drop it point-down into my egg cup.  The egg cup goes in the center of my plate next to the clean spoon.  A cup of hot coffee, tomato juice to the rim of my glass, the salt and pepper grinders to the side.  I tap all around the shell, a quarter of the way down, with the edge of my spoon, then slice it off and lay it aside.  

In the perfect egg (for me) the white is all solid, the yolk a viscous fluid.  I salt and pepper the sliced-off top and eat that first, scraping it out of the cupped fragment of shell; then I turn to the rest of the egg in the cup, alternately salting and spooning till the shell is empty.  I drain my glass and pick up my coffee cup, warming my hands. 

Boiled eggs aren't for everyone, I suppose.  But do you have a magical breakfast, a breakfast that marks the beginning of a sort of day -- a "good day," a "work day," a "busy day," a "calm day" -- some kind of day you're hoping to attain?  Is there a breakfast that says to you, "There, that's one thing -- one thing that went exactly right -- what's next?  Bring it on!"  

If you haven't got such a breakfast, I recommend you come up with one.  It may not be a boiled egg -- maybe it's a big bowl of oatmeal, maybe it's a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk (for me that would be the start of a "comfort myself with food" day -- bad idea), maybe it's an omelette aux fines herbes, maybe it's breakfast at the all-night place up the street in the wee hours before the rest of the family wakes up, just you with the Sunrise Special and the early edition, maybe it's a particular brand of granola bar, maybe it's a yogurt smoothie.  

It doesn't matter what it is.  If you haven't got one, then you can design it.  Make it a ritual, make it regular, and make it yours.

Polenta in the slow cooker?

Asked commenters on my last post.  I was similarly skeptical about how well this would work until I tried it.  I think it is not quite as good as hand-stirred polenta, but it is good enough for me.

Here's how I did it yesterday:

Put in your crockpot 

• 1 and 1/2 cups corn grits/polenta (I used Bob's Red Mill brand -- I do not know if this will work with ordinary medium-grind yellow cornmeal, the stuff I use for corn bread). 
• 1 and 1/2 teaspoons salt 
• 7 and 1/2 cups water 

  and cook on LOW for 9 hours.  If you are able, lift the lid and give it a stir a couple of times throughout the day.  This makes a very soft polenta that sets up a bit as it cools.  Don't lick the spoon or you WILL burn your tongue.

It still works if you don't stir it, but it won't be quite as uniform -- it'll be crustier on the outside next to the crock and softer in the middle.

Before you serve it, give it a good stir, and that's when you would add stuff like butter and parmesan if you're going to be fancy.  Under flavorful stew, though, I like it quite plain.

The leftovers are, of course, spread out in a 9x9 dish in my fridge, waiting for some morning soon when I will slice it up and fry it and top it with butter and maple syrup.

Short ribs.

My favorite cut of beef for the slow cooker:  short ribs.  Browned under the broiler and dropped into the crock pot, they don't look appetizing at all -- so fatty, and so full of connective tissue and clunky rib bones.  Add a cup or so of a barbecue-type sauce, and nine hours later all that connective tissue and fat has melted into a rich gelatinous sheen that coats the beef, falling into shreds between the tongs.

 

"Easiest Beef Short Ribs" is the title of this recipe from Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker Cookbook, which I'm paraphrasing here and altering slightly to match what I did this evening.  We served this over very plain, very soft polenta -- just cornmeal, water, and salt -- and the combination was absolutely luxurious.

1 Tbsp olive oil

1 big yellow onion finely chopped

3/4 c ketchup

1/4 c soy sauce

3 Tbsp cider vinegar

3 Tbsp packed brown sugar

2.5 to 4 lbs beef short ribs

Sauté the onion in the oil till softened.  Add ketchup, soy sauce, vinegar, sugar; stir and heat 5 minutes.

Broil the ribs till well browned.  Stick 'em in the slow cooker and pour the sauce on top.  Cook on Low 7-9 hours.

Transfer the meat to a dish, shredding or slicing the meat and removing bone and gristle.  Let the sauce cool a bit.

Here the recipe suggests spooning extra fat off the top and pouring the sauce over.  But what I did is strain the sauce into a gravy separator, reserving the onion solids and tossing them with the meat, and cooking down the (somewhat - I can't wait forever) defatted gravy with a little cornstarch.  As I said above, I served it over polenta, which I made in the other crockpot.  Mashed potatoes would be the next best thing.

On the side, you don't want anything too rich.  I had grated raw carrot dressed with lemon and salt, sliced raw red bell peppers, and steamed Brussels sprouts.  

Enjoy.  I know I had a little too much of it!

Volume.

Along the way while I was losing all that weight this year, I kept picking up new diet books, mostly just to keep myself obsessing about it since that seemed to work so well.  (I'm obsessing less now -- and the rate of loss has slowed considerably.  I  stand at 112, a couple of weeks after standing at 113.)  I also hoped that some of them would contain some tips and tricks that I could adopt here and there.

One of those books was The Volumetrics Eating Plan.  There is not much extra wisdom to be gained from the diet advice.  It suggests eating fewer calories by consuming more vegetables and fiber and lowering fat content. (One nice difference: it recommends using enough fat in meals to help you feel happy and satisfied, and dropping the extra that you won't notice.  I appreciate that acknowledgment that going fat-free is not much fun and probably not worth the trouble for a lot of us.)  

 

Its new concept, though, I've been happy to add to my toolbox.  This is -- plump your recipes up with lots of veggies, so they get bigger and more filling on fewer calories.  It's kind of obvious, but some of the recipes and photos in the book helped me think of some new and easy ways to do it.  

Adding veggies to stuff to make it bigger is the easy part.  For example, yesterday Hannah brought noodles, beef, and some chopped vegetables to make lo mein for the kids' lunch.  We fed it to them as-is, but I also happened to have some raw-cabbage slaw in my fridge with only a vinegar-sugar dressing on it -- we diluted our lo mein with a couple of cups of that.  It was great.  

It also gave me the idea to replace things with green vegetables.  So, last week, I put my  chili on top of  cooked green beans instead of on top of a big old hunk of corn bread -- I did crumble some of the corn bread on the top, which did away with the poor-me-I-get-no-corn-bread feeling.

And you can do it backwards too -- add stuff to your veggies to turn it into a meal.   I had some leftover roast broccoli/carrots/summer squash from a potluck a couple of days ago, and I added a little bit of cooked pasta, salad dressing, and grated parm to turn it into a fantastic pasta salad (really more of a veg salad with a little pasta).

Anyway, it's maybe a better book to leaf through in the bookstore than to buy, but I did find it more than a little helpful.

Baked bean sandwich.

One of my new favorite vegetarian dinners is slow-cooked baked beans -- you know, the sweet kind with molasses and maple syrup -- Boston brown bread (more maple syrup in that), and veggies, preferably including cabbage of some kind.  We had it last night. I stir-fried the cabbage with onion, and steamed green beans to serve on the side.

The baked beans take some planning.  The small white beans have to be soaked overnight, then cooked for a couple of hours in plain water in the slow cooker.  Then I drain the beans and put them into the slow cooker -- at about 9 pm -- with ketchup, maple syrup, molasses, a peeled onion studded with a few cloves, salt, 1 tsp baking soda, and pepper.  I top it off with boiling water from the kettle, a half-inch past the top of the beans.  It cooks on low all night and all the next day. By dinner time -- twenty hours after I started the cooker, and two days after I put the beans in to soak -- the top is crusty brown caramel and the middle is soft and mushy, and it's sweet all the way through.

I suppose I could serve it with meat, and my choice would be a grilled ham steak, but why bother?  The kids eat the brown bread and the beans, and everyone's full and happy by the end of the evening.

 Today I'm going to have a baked bean sandwich for lunch.  Some yummy ideas in there.  I can't decide -- should I mix it with celery, onion, and walnuts, and eat it cold, or warm it up and spread it on bread and eat it open faced with a fried egg on top?  The bacon sounds good, but I'm not planning on bacon today.  Whatever -- I intend to enjoy it.

UPDATE:  I went with the celery/onion/nuts version, using pecans.  Indeed, very yummy.  I think there is no way I will be hungry again before dinner.

Spanish tortilla for one.

Yesterday's dinner used half a potato.  What to do with the rest?  It turns brown if you keep it around raw, so I diced and parboiled  the extra, and stuck it in the fridge while I decided what to do with it.

 By lunchtime today I'd made up my mind:   Spanish tortilla, otherwise known as "potato omelet."

I minced a small onion and cooked it with a half-cup of the potato in my smallest nonstick skillet, in a tablespoon of olive oil,  until the potato was tender but not browned.  Meanwhile, I beat two eggs in a bowl with salt and lots of black pepper.  I scooped the potato and onion out, mixed them with the eggs (plus a few pieces of sun-dried tomatoes -- an unnecessary but elegant extra that I had on hand), and returned the egg-potato-onion mixture to the pan.  I let it cook on low for 3 minutes or so, slid it onto  a plate and inverted it swiftly into the skillet (it worked -- this time).  A couple more minutes and I was sliding it onto the plate to cool.

After it got down to room temperature,  I cut it into wedges and ate it out of hand, with a big pile of steamed broccoli left over from last night.  My verdict:  a most excellent lunch.  (Counting the broccoli, I figure 434 calories, 34 g carbohydrate, 25 g fat -- I told you I don't do low-fat -- and 19 g protein)

The kids?   I gave them apples and double-egg French toast with maple syrup.  They were quite happy.

Fish on the way home.

Much foodblogging this week!  I must be obsessed.

Here's the deal with fish at our house:  

1. Some time ago I put my foot down and said, darn it, I'll cook fish once a week, but it has to be good fish.  Fish from a reputable fish counter, where we can ask whether it's been frozen or not and when it was caught and whether it was wild-caught or farmed and whether it is being sustainably managed or not. 
2.  We shop on Saturday, but we want to eat fish on Friday.  A day when my fridge and pantry is especially empty; a day too long past shopping day to keep fresh fish.
3. The cheap grocery store where we shop on Saturday doesn't carry especially good fish anyway.
4. Therefore, the plan is for Mark to pick up some fish on his way home from work on Friday, either at the co-op or at the expensive grocery store (motto:  "Costs a lot more, but WE have baggers").
5. But!  These places have different fish for sale each week!  And at different, unpredictable prices!  And you don't really know what you want to buy till you get there and are standing in front of actual fillets and steaks!
6. It's me, not Mark, who carries an extensive many-branched decision tree of recipes in my head.  He is a smart guy; he knows that if he's coming home with fresh fish, buying a baguette, some salad greens, and a couple of lemons is a satisfactory solution.  A safe solution.  An engineering solution.  Works for any fish.  But if we're going to do this every week, we'll get bored with lemon fish/bread/salad.
7. Enter The Fish Buying Decision Tree.  (Download fish_on_the_way_home.doc)  

With this document, printed out, slipped in a page protector, and kept in the glove compartment or bike bag, Mark can bring home useful additional stuff that, with the fish, I can turn into dinner.

Caveats:  The document is written for my family, not yours.  The combinations are not guaranteed to please you.  Also, it assumes the presence of certain pantry staples:  canned broth, herbs and spices, soy sauce, wine, onions.  

Finally, the document doesn't actually contain any recipes.  If you want to try reconstructing them, try Google, possibly including the search term "Mark Bittman," who wrote the three cookbooks I drew on most heavily to construct the chart.

Of course, everyone should have a couple of fish recipes that rely on tinned fish for those days when stopping on the way home isn't practical.  My quick one is a pasta salad with tuna, mint, tomatoes, and capers; the more involved one is fried salmon patties with succotash and pot greens.