It's the Little Things

I know I've been away for a really long time. I feel so guilty. What I want to do is prostrate myself in front of you and beg forgiveness while you read this post on whatever screen you're looking at.

But that would be awkward. And I try not to be awkward on purpose.

Well, most of the time, anyway.

But I have the most amazing little thing to share with you. I just read about it on The Kitchn.

Are you ready?

Take the stupid ring off your measuring spoons and keep them out on the counter in their own little jar by your other most-used utensils.

I love this. This has changed my life. Not in a big way, but in a nice, little way.

Now I don't have to go digging in my utensil drawer for my measuring spoons (which are the most often used item in my drawer save for the citrus reamer, and also the smallest item in the drawer, inevitably buried under the garlic press, the can opener, the measuring cups, two thermometers, an ice cream scoop, two cookie scoops...you get the picture).

The small jar hardly takes up any counter space. Now my measuring spoons will not ever accidentally nest in the dishwasher, preventing all of them from getting clean, because they're all being washed individually, no longer tethered to each other by that pesky ring.

And if I need one of the regular round measuring spoons and one of the rectangular "spice jar" spoons for the same recipe, I don't have to wash every single measuring spoon I own. It's so easy to just grab the one or two measures I need for a recipe. The efficiency is mind-boggling.

I am so happy every time I look at this little jar of spoons.You should try it!

Ok, Ok. I'll Do It Already.

Do you freeze leftover chicken/beef/vegetable broth or stock in ice cube trays? This is one of those tips that I feel like I've read about thousands of time. Literally, thousands. Usually in magazines like Real Simple. Is anyone's life "real simple"? Mine's not and I don't even have kids...this is why I no longer subscribe. At least Martha doesn't pretend her stuff is "real simple." I appreciate her candor. 

But I digress. I actually did a quick Google search on "freezing broth in ice cube trays" and do you know how many results pop up?

810,000.

Read that again. Eight hundred and ten THOUSAND. That's enough for results for every person living in San Francisco to have a link about freezing broth in ice cube trays.

In other words, lots.

Well, I am proud to report that I finally did this myself.

And do you know what? I use the cubes! All the time! It has improved my daily cooking immeasurably. Of course, I'm largely the only one who notices, but still. Let's not go qualifying our improvements. Let's just be happy we have some.

Do this. Do it this weekend. Maybe freeze up some beef broth, too. I did.

You won't regret it.

Semi-Homemade

Sometimes you’re not at home.

Sometimes you’re on vacation. Not often enough, really. But still. You’re in a rental condo. The kitchen is equipped in “third-world” manner, which reminds you of many years ago, in your actual youth, when you were cooking at your Dad’s house. (“Dad, cooking in your kitchen is like what I imagine cooking in the Third World to be like.”) Because you are a spoiled brat whose Mom owned a first generation Cuisinart.

On this vacation, you’re with wonderful friends. Friends who you just adore traveling with. Friends who don’t get annoyed at you for wanting to cease hiking after you’ve essentially climbed up a stony, muddy, ant-infested mountain for two miles – making good use of your “walking stick” a.k.a. tiki torch without the torch part – only to be thrown into a state of crankiness verging on misery after ineffective fording of a “river” that put you face down, scraped and bruised, on some slimy rocks with tropical waters rushing over you. Friends who say things like “Guys, I am really getting concerned. We are rapidly approaching happy hour and we have no wine.” Good, dear friends.

Unfortunately, vacation grocery shopping frequently isn’t inline with the expectations of a person who lives in the salad bowl that is Northern California. And thus, sacrifices must be made. Jarred salsa must be purchased.

I know. It hurts me, too. On the inside.

Fear not, my friends! Even you can rescue jarred salsa. Here’s how.

1. Get yourself some fresh cilantro. I don’t care where you are, there’s a grocery store with cilantro. If you’re on vacation anywhere warm, this cilantro probably costs an entire dollar. Buy a bunch.

2. Chop some of it up, and add it to your salsa. There are no quantities here. Maybe like a fistful? I don’t know. How much do you like cilantro? Yes, the knives in the vacation rental will not be sharp. Do not worry. It’s ok if you bruise the cilantro.

3. OPTIONAL: If you happen to be lucky – so lucky as we were, with someone GIVING AWAY fresh avocados from their tree on the lanai – (What? I love Kaua’i! Why I am I flying home?!?!) chop up half an avocado or so and toss that in.

4. Relish in the magic you’ve created: cooked salsa that tastes totally fresh and fantastic. (P.S. This trick also works great in the winter – Super Bowl party, anyone? – when tomatoes suck and you’re just really craving some chips and salsa.)

On a separate note – some food (and other) highlights from Kaua’i:

Have you ever seen this? The Princeville, Kaua’I FoodLand was selling variegated lemons. Crazy tropical zebra lemons!

Why yes, that is a chicken crossing the road.

I think he wanted to take a ride in a helicopter without doors. Sorry, Chicken!

These were my “crispy poached eggs” at the Kaua’i Grill at the St. Regis. Ridiculously delicious. In honesty, I need to work on my adjectives because I have no words – no words – to describe these.

And here’s the Black Pepper Octopus. Per Mom’s advice, these were indeed incredible. As was everything we ate at dinner.

Butterfish sashimi. Oh, how I worship you.

Pita? Pizza!

I just uploaded another six blog posts' worth of pictures to my computer which means this catch up game isn't going to end anytime soon. But in the meantime, here's a little quick dinner post.

I cobbled together dinner tonight from some random things in the fridge. Here's a peek.

Normally, I don't keep tomatoes in the fridge. Totally kills the flavor. But as you can see from this pic, these were starting to shrivel and I really didn't want to give them up to the great compost bin in the sky just yet.

These tomatoes really should have done a better job with the sunscreen when they were younger. Probably should have also laid off the cigarettes. 

I thought roasting them might make up for the sin of putting them in the fridge. So I tossed them with a little olive oil, salt, and pepper, and threw them in the oven at 400 degrees.

Love the color of these little guys.

After about 30 minutes and one flip about halfway through, I had this.

Roasty and delicious.And gorgeous.

I let the tomatoes cool for a bit and then pureed them in my mini Cuisinart. Love that thing and so much easier to clean than the full-size one.

Now I had roasted tomato puree. I thought about sauteeing a sad little zucchini that's been hanging out in the crisper for a week but in the end decided a pizza-like treatment would be a good use for the puree. And I had mini pitas.

I split a pita and spread the roasted tomatoes on it. Then I added a little goat cheese and threw it all back in the oven at 500 degrees for about 4 minutes until the pita got a little toasty. 

Not bad, but it needs a little something, don't you think? (Sorry for the dark photo.)

Arugula and olives helped round things out. And a drizzle of olive oil, of course.
Olive oil makes everything better.

Another dark photo. Rats. Really need to work on the kitchen lighting.

This little meal actually could have been improved by adding a few red pepper flakes into the puree. Will have to remember that for the next impromptu pita pizza night.

Dinner is served!

You CAN Teach An Old Dog New Tricks

I'm going to let you in on a little secret.

You can poach an egg in the microwave.

!

WHY has this been kept secret for so long?

I am never, ever poaching eggs the traditional swirly-water, drops of vinegar, barely bubble, toil and trouble way again. It takes longer, it's messier, and half the white gets lost in the process.

Plus, with this new way there are no pots to wash - just a mug and a dish to throw in the dishwasher. This is my kind of recipe.

Here's the trick:

1. Put one half-cup of water in a coffee mug. Yes, you should measure it. This is science, people.

If you couldn't visualize this, you might want to reconsider trying this recipe.

2. Crack an egg into it, being careful not to break the yolk on the shell.

Success!

3. Let it sit undisturbed for a minute so that the egg is totally submerged. Just a minute.

4. Place the mug in the microwave and put a small plate on top of it.

5. Cook on high for a minute or so. This part you will need to play with a bit depending on the wattage of your own personal nuker. In my not-super-powerful microwave, 1 minute makes a perfect runny poached egg, 1:15 makes a perfect soft-boiled poached egg, and 1:30 makes a tender but fully-cooked yolk (ideal for pushing through a sieve to make Asparagus Mimosa because it is so much more tender than your typical hard-boiled egg).

6. Use a slotted spoon to remove the egg from the mug and voila!

Served over a recipe I'll write about soon...I swear.

Credits for this trick go to this recipe. Merci beaucoup Bon Appetit!

A Hook Problem

Almost exactly nine years ago, my dear dad and I drove the long, flat, boring road from Chicago to Austin in my move to Texas. Of course, once we got to Austin and unpacked Vinny (my car), we made a trip to The Container Store, or, as Dad likes to refer to it, Anal-Retentive Heaven.

As anyone who has moved all of their wordly belongings out of state knows, moves are hard. They're stressful.

In the midst of such stress (mostly on my part), we found ourselves wandering the aisles of The Container Store at the Austin Arboretum. As lost people are wont to do, we were going up and down every aisle in the store to make sure we weren't forgetting anything. I don't know how familiar you are with The Container Store but their employees are aggressively friendly. This one saleswoman, who looked a little too much like the cartoon Cathy come to life, just would not take a hint and leave us alone. She must have asked us if we needed help, oh, 4 or 5 times. In the span of 20 minutes. We didn't need help the first time she asked and we didn't need help the fifth.

As we meandered down the hook aisle, Cathy pounced once again.

"Can I help you with a hook problem?"

It was all we could do not to laugh in her face. A hook problem? How do you have a hook problem?
Like this?

Which brings us to today.

In the move to reorganize and clean out my apartment and make better use of my "storage room," I am now trying to be super-efficient with my closet space across the board. Sadly, my dining table leaf has been left without a home in the new storage room layout. It has taken up residence in the hallway - obviously not a long-term solution. I was excited to discover it actually fits in my linen closet, but only if I find another home for the ironing board. Brainstorming space solutions, I realized that if I hung the ironing board on the closet door, my leaf storage problem might be solved.

I decided to try ready-made options first in my quest to hang the board. I picked up one of these handy dandy things at Bed Bath and Beyond, but it didn't really work because a) I didn't need storage for the iron, just the board, b) my iron didn't fit that nicely in the holder because it's too big, and c) I would have had to install this on the thinnest part of my door because the charming "architectural detail" prevents me from installing it at the top, where it's the thickest.

I really just needed to mount the bottom part of the iron & board holder on the door but couldn't do that without adding ugly washers to the scenario to keep the molded hook thing that came with the kit on the door. As a firm believer in the balance of form and function, I nixed that option.

Then I realized there must be hooks out there in the world that I could install on the top of the door to hang the ironing board. I dug through my hardware box and assorted existing selection of hooks, but none quite fit around the ironing board leg. Next best option was a trip to my trusty local hardware store (the kind of old school place that's just filled with so many parts and bits that it's almost impossible to find anything unless you ask) and came home with a few prospective solutions.

In the end, the simplest option worked best. Look how spiffy my ironing board (with awesome cover from the DeKalb, IL TJ Maxx) looks now. And now the table leaf is no longer in the hallway. I'm so very pleased.

Indecent Exposure

One day last week I woke up and blearily wandered out of my bedroom and into my bathroom. I sat down on the toilet. I looked up.

And here was what I saw:

Logic follows that if I can see this dude, he can probably see me. Wearing something not fit for public consumption. On the toilet.

Fantastic.

For the last year neighbor visibility hasn't been a problem. I think they've been gutting the apartment across the street. The windows have been covered with plywood this whole time. Surprise! Looks like they are done. And because of the layout of my apartment, I now either have to close my bathroom door all the time (annoying, plus steam builds up in there when I shower because there's no fan) or find another solution. Blinds are not an option as the ones on this window are broken. (Thanks, previous tenant!) I briefly considered embracing the spirit of exhibitionism, but it's just not me.

Yet another trip to Ikea for more bits and pieces for the craft room lent itself to picking up a couple of 49 cent dishtowels in white with a red stripe. I happened to have a cafe curtain rod on hand and some curtain clips from Umbra that I bought ages ago in Austin. (A ha! THIS is why I keep these things! So proud of myself.)

And for a grand total of half what I spent on breakfast this morning at Starbucks (not joking), I had this semi-elegant solution for getting my privacy back. You can see that I didn't bother ironing these. Maybe next time I iron something I'll take care of this. Maybe not.

The people on the above floor keep their blinds shut all the time, so I think this is safe for awhile. Plus the white still lets the light in. I love natural light.

Problem solved!