ScrambledMeg

Well, I’m sick, sick as a dog.  I hate that stupid expression, because, right now, I’m sicker than any dog ever even THOUGHT of being.  After the last 24 hours of fever, chills, coughing, congestion and general malaise, I’m pretty sure I have the flu.  In addition to my actual illness, I also have this mental illness wherein I fully believe, with every fiber of my being, that I will ALWAYS be this sick.  This is it.  This is how I’m going to my grave.  Of course, I realize I’m being dramatic and that I’m a big baby, but that doesn’t stop my torrent of self-pity.  When I’m sick, I mope around, feel sorry for myself and wonder why the whole world doesn’t show up at my bedside with mint-chip ice cream and bouquets of flowers.  I’M SICK, DAMMIT!  Why is everyone just living their lives as if nothing’s happened???

The first step to my recovery is a delightful combination of DayQuil, NyQuil, Advil & Tylenol.  BUT — the next step is soup and lots of it.  Chicken soup is traditional, but, last time I checked, it contains the little feathery friends I have in my front yard, so it’s not an option.  Instead, I go for my Very Green Soup — lots and lots of it.  It’s a pretty simple recipe — in fact, I had to work to even come up with an actual, legit recipe — because you basically cook all the greens you can find in a big pot and puree them.  Kale, spinach, collard greens, swiss chard — whatever you’ve got, throw them in!  Greens give you boatloads of Vitamin A, C, fiber, and are a natural anti-inflammatory, which is awfully helpful when every tissue of your body feels inflamed.  I’ve sketched out a recipe below, but don’t be scared to experiment with whatever greens and herbs you can find.

** You may notice that I’ve not included a photo of this soup.  Well, that wasn’t an accident.  It’s literally the ugliest thing you’ll ever cook, but, I promise, it will make your body oh-so-happy.

VERY GREEN SOUP

1 onion, chopped

1 carrot, chopped

2 T. olive oil, divided

1 T. chopped ginger

¼ c. rice, white, basmati or Arborio (If you want to use brown, use cooked rice, and add it toward the end of cooking)

1 bunch collard greens, roughly chopped

1 bunch kale, roughly chopped

1 bunch spinach, roughly chopped

Chopped, fresh, soft herbs — cilantro, parsley, thyme, tarragon, basil (whatever you like)

Pinch of cayenne

Salt & Pepper

Tofu, cubed (optional)

Lots of fresh lemon juice

Start by caramelizing onions and carrots.  In a small pan, heat olive oil over high heat and add onions & carrots and a pinch of salt.  When the veggies start to brown,  add a splash of water, turn the heat down, cover and let them caramelize (about 20 minutes).

In a soup pot, heat 3 c. water and a teaspoon of salt and add rice.  After 15 minutes, stir in the collards and the kale and bring back to a simmer.  Cover and cook for 10 minutes.  Add spinach, along with caramelized onions, carrot and ginger to pot and season with cayenne & salt & pepper.  Cook about 5 minutes, until spinach is just cooked through.  Toss in fresh herbs.

Puree soup either in blender (in batches) or with an immersion blender until it’s the consistency you like.  Season again with salt & pepper to taste, add tofu (if using) and squeeze lots of fresh lemon juice to serve.

Oooh!  Ain’t she purty??  This, my friends, is a lovely, juicy, sweet pea green — an incredible part of the pea plant that, until recently, only the Asians of the world fully appreciated.  This little sucker (literally a sucker, since it’s part of the actual vine of the plant) sings like Streisand raw or cooked.  If you opt to pick the leaves and throw them in a salad straight from your spring garden, you’ll taste the delicate flavor of raw peas — that indescribable, almost citrus pop of spring.  If you’re as lucky as I, and find these beauties in your not-at-all-wintry December garden of Southern California, you may be in the mood to pretend it really is winter, turn on your fireplace app and cook up something warm and cozy.  And that’s when you heat a little olive oil in a pan and flash saute these babies until they’re barely wilted.  Sprinkle with some delicious sea salt, squeeze a little chunk of lemon over the top and enjoy!  Just don’t overcook them, or the little divas will most certainly cease singing and I will personally show up at your house and issue a citation.  If you cook them too long, they’ll turn dull and vegetal, and, trust me, you will be sad.  Real sad.  If your husband happens to be the one to overcook them, you may be forced to raise your voice, weep fat tears and make his life miserable for a day . . . or two . . . or until you get a foot rub.  I’m just saying, DO NOT OVERCOOK PEA GREENS.

FYI, don’t panic — you don’t have to grow the peas yourself.  Across this gorgeous country of ours, we have farmers’ markets sprouting up just about every weekend.  Look for them.  Ask the farmers.  They’ll hook you up.  Also, if you wanna get a little fancy, you could quick saute the greens, add a spoonful of creme fraiche and grate a bit of fresh nutmeg over the top.  Or, stir them into a light, lemony fettuccine and top with toasted, crushed almonds.  Oooh!  I almost forgot — I also love them stirred into buttery scrambled eggs at the last second and sprinkled with truffle salt.  OK, now I’m starving — I gotta go pick some more greens.

So, usually I think horoscopes are nonsense.  **Note to Readers:  At this moment, my mother has blanched and is fanning her bosom (and for that visual, you’re welcome, all the men in my family)**  My mom has sent me my daily, monthly and yearly horoscopes since the advent of email, and even gave me an “astrological reading” one year for Christmas.  The astrologist told me I would fall madly in love that year, and I promptly told her she was nuts.  Then, three months later, I locked eyes with the love of my life, the man I just kissed as he took our daughter to soccer practice.  Now, don’t get me wrong, even finding true love did not convince me horoscopes have any credence, but I still take a peek from time to time.

For the next two days, I have a mountain of pressure hanging over me.  I’ve got to PERFORM in front of a lot of people, and, even though that’s my job, it can still sometimes send me swirling into the abyss that is my blonde head.  When a script is beautifully written, I can’t stop  thinking it’s mine to ruin, and that messes with my mojo.  I’m most often super-clutch when it comes to grace and performance under pressure.  I mean, when the time actually comes, I’ll feel the world slow down and hear my breath, and all will be just fine.  However, the days leading up to the event can be rough.  So, I peeked.  I peeked at the horoscope.  It’s a dangerous move, folks, kinda like stepping on the scale before a big date.  Don’t do it.  I don’t recommend it.  NOT SAFE.

But today, I scored.  In the grand scheme of things, I’m such a lucky, lucky girl, and it’s always nice to be reminded:

December 19, 2011

Aries (3/21-4/19)  Your task today is to appreciate everything. This doesn’t mean that you should write a thank-you note for everyone who smiles at you today, but it does mean that you should take an extra second every once in a while to remind yourself that you have it so much better than so many other people. Sure, things aren’t perfect — and sometimes the people you love can drive you a bit crazy. But you wouldn’t trade it for anything — this is a day to contemplate that.

OK.  Sometimes I just wake up in the morning and need a little comfort.  Yes, my feet are still warm from bed and there’s not a cloud in the sky, but I DON’T KNOW – sometimes it just feels like one of those days.  On those days, I whip up biscuits.  No, my mom didn’t make biscuits when I was a kid.  My grandmother didn’t even make biscuits when I was a kid.  I just have some perfect, Americana vision of my child (in the year 2041, when dogs will probably fly), whipping up biscuits and saying  “Awwwww.  This reminds me of my Mama.”

So here are the greatest biscuits ever made.  You MUST follow the recipe exactly.  Usually, I loathe exact recipes – however, in baking, there is a bit of science, so we are handcuffed by rules.  They take only minutes, as long as you keep a little buttermilk in your fridge.  Make them tomorrow.  Make them for Thanksgiving.  Make them for Wednesday.  You don’t need a reason.  Just make them because you dig the big people and the little people you live with.

BUTTERMILK BISCUITS

(Makes 12 biscuits)

2 c (10 oz) all purpose flour

1 T baking powder

1T sugar

1t salt

½ t baking soda

4 T cold, unsalted butter, chopped

1 ½ c cold buttermilk

Heat oven to 500• .  Grease 9-in. round cake pan.  Grease ¼ c measuring cup.

In your food processor, pulse flour, baking powder, sugar, salt and baking soda to combine.  Scatter butter over dry ingredients.  Pulse until it looks like small pebbles.  Pour mixture into bowl & add buttermilk.  Stir with spatula just until incorporated.  (This will look like a mess – lumpy and droopy and wet).

Use your greased measuring cup to spoon up ¼ c. dough.  Drop the plop onto a floured baking sheet.  Continue with remaining dough, greasing cup when necessary.  Sprinkle flour over dough plops and GENTLY pick up each on, shake off excess flour and set into prepped cake pan.   (Treat these little plops like newborn babies – GENTLE).  Brush with melted butter.  Bake 5 minutes, then reduce temp to 450 until they’re golden brown.  Cool in pan a couple of minutes and then invert into a towel and let cool 5 more minutes, or until you are swarmed by hungry customers.  Drizzle with honey and try not to eat the whole batch . . . I dare you.

HELLO, LOVER.

Not since Pee Cola                                                                                                                          and AYDS diet chews

                                                                       

has a less appealing name been chosen for a product.  NUTRITIONAL YEAST?  It sounds like something to look out for when you’re changing clothes in a locker room or using a public toilet.  Nonetheless, I can forgive the unfortunate name, because I DIG THIS STUFF.  I will go so far as to say it’s miraculous.  It gives that unctuous, je ne sais quoi, UMAMI to whatever it touches.  It makes naked, tasteless, air-popped popcorn sing like Nacho Cheese Doritos.  In a word, it’s awesome.

A few facts about Nutritional Yeast:  in two tablespoons, you get 60 calories, 1 gram of fat, trace sodium, 70% of your daily requirement of Vitamin B12 and 353% of your daily requirement of Riboflavin.  While Riboflavin may sound like a D list rapper from the 90’s, it’s actually a key player in energy metabolism and in burning and using all the fats and carbohydrates you ingest.  B12 is one of the hot button topics in most vegetarian nutritional discussions as well, since the most common nutritional sources of it are innards, shellfish and chicken.  Having just used the word “innards” and making myself a bit nauseous, I’ll try to get back on track.

You should buy this stuff and use it like you use salt & pepper or parmesan cheese.  Think sprinkling it over hot pasta, sautéed veggies, scrambled eggs, omelettes, warm salads, rice, literally anything that needs a little extra zing at the end of cooking.  I’ll work on some actual recipes, but until then, pick some up and start experimenting.  I’d love to hear about any new uses for my favorite product-of-the-moment . . . but not if you’re putting it on innards.  You can keep that to yourself.

I cooked for a neighbor last night, and fell in love all over again with this salad.  The genius of it is that it can really be constructed from whatever leftover grain/bean combo you’ve got in your fridge + whatever looks gorgeous at the market that day.  Here’s a codified version, but feel free to improvise ad infinitum.  If you want to add some serious WOW to your meal, make the chickpea pancakes.  They are SO worth the extra effort.

DINNER IN A BOWL: SUMMER SALAD WITH CHICKPEA PANCAKES

½ c. pearl barley

½ c. brown or green lentils

2 T. kosher salt

1 c. corn (blanched fresh* is best)

½ lb. green beans, blanched* and cut into ½ inch pieces

2 sweet bell peppers (red, yellow or orange), cut into thin 1/2 in. strips

1 scallion, thinly sliced

½ c. fresh soft herbs – basil, tarragon, Italian parsley (whatever you like)

For the dressing:

¼ t. Dijon mustard

2 ½ T. balsamic vinegar

juice from one lemon

1 t. kosher salt

3 T. olive oil

Fresh ground pepper

1. Bring a large pot of unsalted water to a boil.  Add the barley & lentils and let cook for 10 min.  Add the salt and continue to cook until al dente (about 12 more minutes).  Drain and set aside to cool.
2. Whisk all ingredients for dressing together and set aside.
3. Combine cooled beans & grains with prepped vegetables, toss with vinaigrette, adjust seasoning and add fresh herbs.

* – To blanch fresh vegetables:  bring large pot of salted water to a rolling boil.  Drop veg in until color turns bright and veg is crisp/tender (or however you like your veg).  Corn takes about 45 seconds.  Fresh green beans take a few minutes.  Taste.

CHICKPEA PANCAKES WITH TAHINI SAUCE

2 c. chickpea flour

1 c. AP flour

2 t. baking powder

2 T. curry powder

1 T. kosher salt

1 c. plain yogurt

4 eggs, beaten

3 T. canola oil, separated

3 scallions, thinly sliced

1 c. chopped fresh cilantro

1. Whisk dry ingredients: chickpea flour, AP flour, baking powder, curry powder and salt in medium bowl.
2. Whisk wet ingredients: yogurt, eggs, 2 T. oil.
3. Pour wet mixture over dry mixture.  Stir to combine and add scallions and cilantro.
4. Coat nonstick pan with a bit of the remaining canola oil, heat on medium and ladle 2/3 c. batter into the pan.  Cook as you would regular pancakes (until golden brown on each side), and serve immediately with Tahini sauce (below).

TAHINI SAUCE

½ c. tahini

½ c. water

¼ c. fresh lemon juice

1 garlic clove, minced

½ t. kosher salt

¼ t. cayenne pepper

Whisk together (or whir in blender) until smooth.

Well, it’s Fathers’ Day.  My own dad passed away 14 years ago, next month, so this day is always a little bittersweet.  I pointedly try to make this holiday only about the father of my daughter, but, I gotta admit, it’s a little tough to keep out the sadness entirely.

This morning, as I made pancakes for my husband’s LET’S SURPRISE DADDY WITH BREAKFAST IN BED!, I was overwhelmed by a memory of an evening when I was a teenage girl.  On the very rare occasion that my mom was not at home for dinner, my dad would make Breakfast Dinner.  Usually, he made his signature, pan-sized disk of an omelet – an inch-thick round slab of overcooked egg and cheddar, in the EXACT shape and size of our non-stick pan – but on this particular night, he was making pancakes.  I sat on the counter in the kitchen watching him, his left hand on his jutted-out hip, his right holding the spatula.  He told me a story about “this one fella” who worked breakfast mess duty in my dad’s Army Company in World War II.  He described how this guy would pour the batter into the pan, let it cook awhile, flip it, and then SMASH down the pancake until it was as thin as possible.  He described the SMASH with total disbelief and horror, turning down the corners of his mouth and shaking his head.  I couldn’t help giggling.  My dad was actually offended at this man’s deplorable mistreatment of the poor pancakes.  He told me how he tried to gently instruct his fellow infantryman about the delicate chemical reactions between eggs, baking powder and heat, and how his strong-arming of the spatula was killing the fluffy soul of each pancake, but his advice fell on deaf, pig-headed ears.  The flapjack squisher continued his reign of terror, and, almost forty years later, Tom Price was still telling the tale with all the raw emotion of his 18 year old self.

In my dad’s mind, as in his daughter’s today, there really IS a right way and a wrong way to do things.   Put simply, in many, if not most situations in this life, right is right and wrong is wrong.  Of course, my “right” may not be your “right,” and, you know what?  We don’t all have to agree.  Get clear on your own values and then, yes, IMPOSE those values on your children – it’s called parenting.  I’m sure some politically-correct, morally-suspect pundit will give me an earful about letting my three-year-old child discover all of the many religions, schools of thought and possible life choices out there, but I respectfully disagree.  My daughter will have her chance to listen, weigh the options and then agree or disagree with me when she’s older.  For now, my job is to model my version of how she can live her best life.

Today, I will teach her as my father taught me – to show some respect for the pancakes.

Look out, steel-cut oats!  There’s a new kid on the block, and she’s packed with protein.  Quinoa (“keen-wah”) is my new favorite grain.  Each serving of this porridge contains 11.5 grams of protein and 10 grams of fiber and, with the addition of flax seed, your full RDA of omega 3’s.  I have mine with a cup of soy milk, which adds another 7 grams of protein.  (Still wondering where vegetarians get their protein?)

Quinoa Porridge

(One serving)

1 c. water

1/3 c. quinoa (well rinsed)

Pinch of salt

1 peeled, chopped apple

1 t. cinnamon

2 T. ground flax seed

Fruit for garnish

Boil water in saucepan. Add pinch of salt and quinoa and bring back to a boil.  Turn heat down and add chopped apple and cinnamon.  Let simmer for about 7 minutes or until quinoa has absorbed all of the liquid.  (You may need to add a bit of water, if it gets too dry before the quinoa is soft).  Stir in ground flax seed, scoop into a bowl and garnish with berries, additional cinnamon or a drizzle of agave syrup.

Now go work out!  You’ve got tons of protein for muscle-building!

. . . TO GET TO A BETTER HOTEL.

#1 Lesson I’ve learned while traveling with my family: If you don’t like your surroundings, CHANGE THEM.

This is so basic and yet so cosmic.  It all started with a crappy hotel, which, for legal purposes, we’ll call the Skeraton.  We began our stay with a ride from the burned-out parking garage on the world’s most repulsive, vandalized, rickety, freight elevator.   After a less-than-lovely reception at check-in, we opened the door to a wave of damp, vaguely dog urine-esque aroma.  The toilet was suspiciously still running, and we noticed the upholstery was coming apart in every direction.  Alas, we were exhausted and somewhat confused.  Hadn’t we agreed to pay SEVERAL hundred dollars a night for this place?  It couldn’t be that bad, right?

We dropped our bags, ordered food and went to check out the pool, which had been the highlight of our campaign to get the three year old excited about the trip.  Stepping off the elevator, I thought we were in Downtown Baghdad.  It literally looked like a bomb had detonated.  There was scaffolding everywhere, exposed heating ducts, demolished floors, ripped up carpet and, again, that damp, dog urine smell (Is this some sort of a signature Skeraton Room Freshener?).   We peeked into the dark pool area and saw a slimy, triangular-shaped, 4 foot deep wading pool that I could smell right through the thick pane of filthy glass.

When I couldn’t sleep at 4 a.m. – the toilet was STILL running – I went to the bathroom, turned on my computer and typed in www.marriott.com.  I would now like to go on record as the new spokeswoman for Marriott.   This is the greatest company on the planet.  Within 7 minutes, I had booked a Junior Suite, bigger than my NYC apartment, within walking distance to everything, and the price was almost exactly the same.

I cried when I opened the door to room 8105.  I literally cried.  I felt like a large Southern woman had opened the door to her plantation-style home and handed me a steaming plate of homemade, buttery biscuits.  The carpets were clean!  The toilet was fully functioning!  There was a sink, a mini-kitchen,  a huge, gorgeous bed, a sitting area and a freaking dining room for six, all laid out beautifully . . .   AND a divine absence of dog urine to boot!

So that’s my takeaway from this family adventure.  If things around you are rotten, change them.  It’s one of the most sublime gifts we have.  No, you can’t force your neighbors to stop being soul-sucking, space-invading menaces, but you CAN actually exert healthy, non-crazy-pants control over a few very important things in this world.   Just figure out which things you have to accept and which things you can change and CHANGE THEM.  And, if you smell dog urine, call Marriott.