It’s what I was in the mood for. An all-day drive to Barcelone and back made for a lazy next day. Assembling sand-weech was about all I had in me.
In this sandwich:
Cheap supermarket baguette
Lettuce
Tomato
Ham ( sans cuenne )
Mayo
Buttah
Brie
These are the wind power things outside of Narbonne. The sunset last night made them look perty.
Duck confit in the oven, I wonder if these three potatoes will come together. I support the terrine of people who believe that you can gratin ( say that ” grah – ten ” ) darn near anything.
But three, small potatoes? Not likely. But wait, I have mushrooms. I have aromatics. Let’s see what forty minutes covered in thick cream snuggled in an average oven does.
Also added was half of a small onion. The other half would have joined the dish were it not for some butter fingers that failed to catch the little guy after it was halved. Wipe well your fingers after buttering your crock.
In this gratin:
Three small potatoes
Six everyday mushrooms
Two small cloves of garlic
Half a small onion sautéd in duck fat
Some celery also sautéd in duck fat
Pinch of fresh thyme
Salt
Pep
Heavy creme
Butter a small terrine, add the goods and cover in creme. Bake for thirty or forty minutes in a 150C oven.
Have a glass if wine. Chat with your husband or cat or friends. Check. When it’s smoodgie and submits to a poke with a fork … Pull it out and dig in.
Three potatoes were well received. A few more weeks now for the new ones to harvest.
Lunch, at last, arrives at 4:15pm. This may be the best cracker I ever ate. It’s been a busy day on the farm. I will spare you the details. A small veal hanger steak was on offer. I served with some risotto. I’m not a big rice eater, but when life gives you short pearly rice, make risotto. As you introduce the stock to the rock hard rice, you think and drink and ponder. Risotto is a grumpy Italian farmer’s wife invention. A result so yummy, they are encouraged to glue to the stove, holding a no-chase-chase-the-toddler free card. Meanwhile, tired Italian dads run around getting junior off the hay bales, out of the tractor and away from the bulls and lake.
Lunch finished at 4:30. Inhaled by me all by myself without any thought of where junior might be. No time for any food fluffing. This is my lunch, four hours late, by the dishes I didn’t do.
In the ris:
The veal was amazing. I’m very proud to have been part of raising that flavor. On the veal-to-beef flavor spectrum, it was a seven. Closer in beefy flavor with all the tenderness of veal. I hope we can replicate this.
Veal:
They spoke to me at the marche. I thought they needed to be stuffed. Stuffed with
Ground pork
Onion
Garlic
Celery
Toms
Zuch innards
Rosemary
Thyme
Basil
Oregano
A dash of chook stock
Some white wine
Salt
Pep
And baked in a typical oven with a little zucchini hat.
Stuffed zucchini, it’s what’s for dinner.
One time, after lunch, we needed some dessert. Sometimes, you need dessert and you didn’t plan for this need ahead of time. It was then we realized that you melt chocolate in a pan and dip darn near anything in it. Voila! Dessert. Not just any chocolate will do the job. “Chocolat Dessert” is what the marches in France call it ( duh, I should have figured this out long ago ). In America, I think it’s called baker’s chocolate. Or you can use semi-sweet chocolate chips. I always have melting chocolate on hand because it lasts in the pantry and has the added bonus of dessert potential at any moment. With the shops closed through the two hour lunch and finish the day at seven, you need to plan sweet cravings ahead of time.
Usually we do a slow melt with a spot of cream and a dash of salt. Tonight, I added two new friends
Sweetened condensed milk
Vanilla extract
Then, magic happened.
I didn’t take notes on the ratio, but I think this chocolate sauce is something you feel. You can serve it over a cottage cake ( not very sweet, heavy on the butter )
Or if cake isn’t your thing, spoon it.
Or if you’re six, eat what’s on your plate and save some for later.
E.O.M.
I think this is a Bibb lettuce in America. It’s not bitter in the slightest and does justice to the guacamole I made. I’ve never taken to the chip- guacamole dip extravaganza. I was more interested in the guac over the chip. When you make a quick lunch based on the guacamole you made last night, it must involve bacon and cream. Had I not eaten all the salsa last night, that would have trifecta-ed the dish. But the salsa was not hugely missed as the green goob of yum was the star ingredient.
Should you cook too much bacon and your partner in cured flesh eating crime has taken a nap, you can skip the fancy greens and load your fried, poitrine fumee with Mr. Green. It’s all good.
Guacamole:
Ripe avocados
Lemon
Garlic
Salt
Pep
Cilantro ( only a dash because my husband is one of those “cilantro tastes like soap” people. )
I feel bad, sometimes, that I have a surplus of duck fat. I have friends in America who finally find a duck fat source and they buy two little pots ( were I there, I would do the same ). I’m guessing they ration it as I can imagine duck fat being an effort to purchase. I’ll bet it’s expensive too. I have duck fat everywhere at the moment. Leftover from confit. Leftover from duck breasts that Brent cooked. Bags and Ikea bags full in my freezer. I have a jar of duck fat by my stove. I tossed some duck fat out for the birds. Our friend is a duck farmer, can you tell?
So when it comes to leftover mash, nothing ties a dish together like duck fat. Potatoes and duck fat are a match made in culinary heaven ( or whatever ethereal culinary nirvana you believe in ).
In these cakes:
Leftover mash:
Pots
Butter
Creme fraiche
Cream
Salt
Pepper
Next Day Cakes:
One farm fresh egg
Dash o’ salt
Duck fat in hot pan
Medium heat to get a little puff, then turn it up a bit to brown and get it all cakey-like.
Potatoes are not a frequent side on our family table, but when the root veg does a service clinging cream and fat together, I have no issue serving.
This dish was made with the doors wide open. The sun is shining. The retriever is opportunistically positioned.
I suppose we’ve opportunistically positioned our farm in duck country.
Have you hugged your local duck farmer today?
Fish cakes tonight.
Some mash pots
Some white fish
Dill
Couple eggs
Salt and pep
Leeks precooked in buttah
Little cakes floured lightly ( in Einkorn ) and fried in lard with butter.
I made some “special sauce” to go with. A little something that makes iceberg lettuce and fishcakes taste like a McDonald’s Burger. One bite of special sauce and fishcake instantly took me to plastic playground happy meals with toy surprises that failed to fulfill my hopes and dreams.
My husband took a bite of fishcake with special sauce and quickly followed with, “mmm. Big Mac.”
Not unlike Mock Apple Pie with the Ritz crackers and cinnamon ( no apples ), the special sauce is the quintessential Quarter Pounder umami.
Special Sauce:
Mayo
Catsup
Dijon
I spend a lot of time here. There was no preconceived design. No dream kitchen. This galley evolved as I found myself cooking more and more. When you – the parents – lay out a philosophy on how you wish to feed your family, the execution and equipment follow. As the beef Bourguignonned, I would hammer drill some racks to hold my pots and hang a ladle and some tongs. The curry needs a half hour to bubble, I’ll hang these cabinets. And so it went.
Sure, I should have slapped some paint up. I should also remove the old light fitting from the retired wiring. At this point, I might miss it. It’s art now.
When the baby is sleeping and I’ve done my brush cutting duty, I come here and think about food. What do I do for dinner? Those leftovers, ginger- onion stir-fry, over cooked broccoli, potato dauphinoise, intense tomato sauce, roast pork, how can I move this? This is my happy place. It’s warm. It’s warm from the oven cooking meringue that I’m making because I made blanquette de Veau a few days ago. It’s warm from Fremont the wood burner heating “The Mess” and this galley because of a thick, red velvet curtain, curtainsy of Ikea, that traps the warmth.
I see a backsplash I should mount properly, but I don’t because it’s easier to clean this way and besides, I need to work out the tile-to-wall gap. I see duck fat, lard and butter ready for action. I see dishes backed-up do to weekend kids and craziness. I see a kozmo.com magnet that I cherish because it reminds me of crazy times when people believed in crazy ideas.
I love this little kitchen of ours. The hours I spend here challenge me to build something yummy with what I have right now in this fridge, in this house. The hours I spend here feed my family. We feed them well so they can grow.
Girl On Grill Action 