Wednesday, November 18, 2009

'Tis The Season For Panic -- And For Baking


Right now, our front sidewalk appears to have been booby-trapped by Wile E. Coyote (Supergenius), except that instead of being lined with marbles fresh from The Acme Company, our sidewalk -- weed-whacked-edge-to-weed-whacked-edge – is encrusted with acorns.  Thousands and thousands of acorns.  Which, actually, with their needle-tipped ends, are more hazardous than marbles.  Even steelies.

This sidewalk is hardly a paved path.  It’s an ankle sprain waiting for crutches and the EMS to arrive.  Followed immediately thereafter by a personal injury lawyer.

Our neighborhood squirrels are frenzied – near panic – trying to harvest and store the bountiful harvest before it’s crushed beneath villainous car tires and Mike the Mailman’s heels.  Or worse, collected as evidence in the aforementioned lawsuit.

I’m with the squirrels.  The holiday season is upon us, and I’ve got my own frenzy -- making lists and stashing them in my purse, my room, the desk drawer, on the computer, the iPhone, and the backs of Harris Teeter receipts.  I’ve also begun stashing gifts, and in the process, have even found a few “lost” gifts from Christmases past.  (As if someone in the household could still fit in size “00” jeans.  Sigh.)

I’ve also, joyfully, begun holiday cooking.  Next week will be filled with pies – pecan, pumpkin, the dreaded mincemeat, the Best Cheesecake Ever – and the surprisingly irresistible Gingered Orange Cranberry Sauce.  This week, though, is devoted to things that can be prepared in advance, the impossible-to-eat-just-one Cheddar-Blue Cheese Wafers, cranberry-spiked Pumpkin Bread, Super Savory Crispix Mix, and the inadequately named and homely-sounding Sausage Bread.

Sausage Bread requires only three ingredients and is a holiday necessity Chez Wiles.  Not only is it the mandatory breakfast for both Thanksgiving and Christmas mornings, it makes a terrific tailgating treat, a welcomed hostess gift and is easily prepared in advance and frozen for travel.

Not quite, perhaps, as “genius” as Wile E. Coyote, but pretty darn close.  And to this point, no lawsuits either.

Sausage Bread
1 pkg (three loaves) frozen white bread dough (I use Bridgford)
2 lbs. good quality bulk sausage (I use either Fresh Market’s or Neese’s)
1 lb. grated Cheddar-Montery Jack blend
1 onion, diced, sautéed (optional)
1 bell pepper (any color) diced, sautéed (optional)

flour
mustard

Thaw dough and allow to come to room temperature.

Brown sausage in large skillet, breaking into small bits.  Stir in onion and bell pepper, if using.  Drain well in a colander.

Working with one loaf at a time, on a well-floured pastry board, roll and stretch dough out into a rectangle, measuring (very roughly) 9” x 14”.  (Note:  If dough is too chilled, it will not stretch sufficiently.)  Scatter 1/3 of sausage over dough.  Sprinkle with 1/3 (1 1/3 cups) cheese. 

Starting along long edge, gently roll up dough, tucking in sausage and cheese as you go.  This is a sloppy and imperfect process.  The dough will is very forgiving and will stretch, which is a good thing.  Just try not to tear it.

Once you’ve rolled up the entire loaf, jelly-roll style, use your finger to dampen the entire long edge with water, which will help “glue” the dough to itself.

At this point, I either cut the loaf in half, lengthwise, to form two smaller loaves, tugging the dough at either end and using water to “glue” it closed, OR, I form the entire long loaf into a circle, tucking one end into the other.  (The round loaf makes a lovely presentation as a gift.)

Repeat with remaining loaves, moving each to a well greased baking sheet.  Then, allow loaves to rise, until overall size increases by about 50%.  Depending on the temperature in your home, this may take 2-3 hours.

Once risen, bake in a 350 oven for 30-45 minutes, until well browned and crusty.  Remove from oven and cool on racks.  Serve warm with mustard, or allow to cool completely and freeze until needed.

The Key To A Well-Stocked Kitchen and Perfect Mashed Potatoes.


I am not a pack rat.

My local Salvation Army could very well attest to that fact.   Indeed, I wouldn’t be surprised if they developed a frequent donor program in my honor, complete with key tags, bumper stickers and punch cards  (“After your sixth donation, your seventh one is, um, welcome?”)

I’m not unsentimental, but where some people live by The Golden Rule and others are guided by The Serenity Prayer, the inspirational, uplifting words I live by are, If you haven’t worn it or used it in the past two years, lose it.  I have no problem disposing of unworn clothes, unneeded dishes, unopened boxes of glasses (adorned with hand-painted holly berries), unused gifts (Oh, you shouldn't have -- really!), or even an ex-husband’s bundle of high school newspapers and the snowsuit he wore when he was two.  (OK.  I actually asked whether he wanted those.)

I couldn’t possibly recall all the times Darling Daughter or Snarky Son (before he was "snarky") asked, “Have you seen my Beanie Baby/Lego Star Wars C3PO/15¢ McDonald’s Happy Meal Toy?” and to which, because I’m not a gifted liar, I'd have to look away and mutter in response, “Oh.  Can’t you find it?” knowing all the while that the suddenly-desired toy had taken a one-way, no-return trip to Goodwill.  And also knowing, that I may eventually discard something of such future monetary value that my then-adult child will have no recourse but to take me to court.  Just so you know, I’ll be good for the cost of therapy, but no other damages.

Last week, I loaded the Pilot up to the sunroof with a motley assortment of donation items which had been cluttering the attic for years, including teeny, tiny children’s backpacks, ridiculously-large pieces of luggage, slightly worn double-size bed sheets and twin-size comforters, a kitchen-sized Glad bag of dresses for third grade girls, two unused miniature Bose speakers and a brand new laser printer.  Or, at least it was "brand new" three years ago.

Despite these frequent purges, my closets, cabinets and pantry remain ridiculously well-stocked. I may not be a pack rat, but I stock up like a squirrel in acorn season.

Need some parchment paper?  Here’s a fresh roll.  Lemongrass?  Check the spice cabinet.  A biscuit cutter?  What size? 

And since Thanksgiving’s just around the corner, I’m also reminded that I have a ricer.

I only make mashed potatoes six or seven times a year, but this is one kitchen tool that will never see the inside of the Goodwill bin.  When I was a kid, my mom had a ricer too, but to my recollection, she only used it for ricing hard-boiled eggs to serve the day after Easter over shredded lettuce with Thousand Island dressing.  Since I was a kid, my natural reaction was, “Ick.”

I was an adult before I realized that the ricer -- not a masher, or heaven forbid, a handmixer --  is also the secret to making perfect-every-time, never-gluey-or-gloppy, velvety mashed potatoes – the only kind that should grace a table -- at Thanksgiving or any other meal.

Always Perfect Buttermilk Mashed Potatoes
Buttermilk adds the perfect tang – just like sour cream on a baked potato – without adding any real fat.  Despite the rich-sounding name, buttermilk has about as much fat as 1% milk.  Adding goat cheese makes the potatoes a bit richer and fancier.

2 lbs. Yukon Gold potatoes
3 cloves garlic, peeled
3 tablespoons butter
¾ cup buttermilk
4 ounces goat cheese (optional)
1 tablespoon minced fresh chives (optional)
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
fresh ground pepper
gracious plenty kosher salt

Put unpeeled potatoes and peeled garlic in a large stockpot.  Add enough water to cover and one tablespoon of kosher salt. Bring to a boil, then, reduce heat to simmer and cook gently until potato is easily pierced with a fork.  (Potatoes will cook more quickly if the pot is lidded.)

Remove and drain potatoes.  When cool enough to touch, use your fingers to peel off skin.  Cut potatoes in chunks.

Push through the ricer in batches, into a large bowl with remaining ingredients.  Heat from the potatoes will melt the butter and warm the milk.  (You could, of course, zap the ingredients in the microwave before adding the potatoes, too.)  Stir everything together, adjust seasoning, and serve.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Being Prepared. For Mammograms, Good News and Good Health. (Gingered Spinach and Mushroom Soup)



As I write this, I'm sitting in the waiting room of The Presbyterian Breast Center in Charlotte NC.  Because of an as-yet-unexplained abnormality in my mammogram of last week, I'm here for a "diagnostic" mammogram and, depending on that outcome, perhaps some other tests.  I've been assured that I will not leave here today without a fairly definitive reason for my abnormal mammogram.

Coincidentally, October was National Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  The event's distinctive pink ribbons were aflutter all month long -- at NFL games, at the kids' school, in doctors' office, and perhaps, most visibly, at an abundance of Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure events throughout the country.

Oddly, as I read the many breast cancer articles and reminders in The Charlotte Observer in October and listened to the advice of expert radiologists, gynecologists and oncologists on The Today Show, it occurred to me that I don't currently know of any instances of breast cancer in my circle of friends.  That's saying something, because it's a fairly extensive circle, including neighborhood friends, former co-workers in Boston, RIchmond and Charlotte, newly re-discovered classmates from Charleston and Columbia, and lots and lots of moms (particularly those of seventh and ninth graders, Boy Scouts and cross country runners).  The American Cancer Society estimates that one in eight of us will develop breast cancer in our lifetime.  My slightly superstitious side couldn't help but wonder and worry -- about all of us.

Sure, I've known women with breast cancer, and sadly, some who lost their lives to it.  The ACS reports that nearly 200,000 new cases of invasive breast cancer will be diagnosed in American women in 2009.  Over 40,000 U.S. women are expected to die from breast cancer this year.  Lung cancer is the only cancer more deadly among this population.  A stunning 2.5 million U.S. women with a history of breast cancer were alive in January 2006.

I've heard these many facts over the years.  And now, I'm the one in the waiting room.

Despite recent blog posts about my Boy Scout-like desire to "be prepared," there's no way I could prepare for this.

I can't worry about something I don't know about, of course, and this is clearly something I don't know about.  I don't know what "it" is. That's why I'm here.  I suppose my abnormal mammogram could be attributed to any number of things, but the one I keep coming back to is cancer.

I won't keep you in suspense.  After an easy diagnostic exam, which was no more uncomfortable than any other mammogram, my radiologist reported that my breasts were clear for now.  (And yes, she actually did say, "for now," which I believe is the prudent thing to tell a patient.)

It appears that my original mammogram indicated a shadow of what was likely some folded over tissue.  I was reminded, of course, to continue scheduling my regular annual mammograms and monthly self-exams.  And I was reminded, of course, that it's never a bad idea to take good care of myself -- limiting alcohol and fat, getting plenty of exercise and enjoying a healthy diet with lots of veggies.

As luck would have it (and believe me, I already feel plenty lucky today), I'd made Gingered Spinach and Mushroom Soup just yesterday.  For a low-fat dish with lots of veggies -- and good taste -- I think it fits the bill.

Because as great as the folks were at The Breast Center, I don't plan to be there again next year.  Instead, that'll be me in the Susan G. Komen Race For The Cure.


To get a free annual mammogram reminder, visit The American Cancer Society website (click here) and tell them which month you'd like to receive your e-mail reminder.  You can even sign up a friend!

Gingered Spinach and Mushroom Soup

3-4 cups flavorful, homemade chicken stock (for recipe, click here)
1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger (or more to taste)
1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil ("regular" sesame oil doesn't have enough flavor)
3 cups (about 4 ounces) raw baby spinach, rolled up and sliced into thin ribbons
6 button mushrooms (I used cremini), sliced very thinly
1 tablespoon miso paste* (or to taste)
2 teaspoons lemon juice (or to taste)

In a large saucepan, heat ginger and sesame oil until fragrant.  (Just a few minutes.)  Stir in chicken stock and bring to a boil.  Reduce heat to medium and stir in spinach and mushrooms.  Cook until spinach is completely wilted, but still bright green.  Stir in miso and lemon juice.  Adjust seasonings and serve hot.  (If I'd had it on hand, some firm tofu, cubed, would have been perfect in this soup, too.)


*Miso paste is a Japanese ingredient, found in the international aisle of the grocery store.