Still have some openings in upcoming classes, which begin next Thursday, April 16, 5-8pm at Shouse Appliance in Colorado Springs. There are two available spots each in the FRENCH CLASS, April 16 and in the BRUNCH class (we’re learning how to make homemade sausage!), April 25, as well in the rest of the series. Click at top on CURRENT CLASSES for list and registration info. Can’t wait to cook with you!
Orzo, the tiny rice-like pasta, and vegetables is a favorite combination of mine and you’ll see it on the blog a time or two. Or more. This particular comforting oh-so-green pasta dish, which is easily made vegan, seems to catapult spring vegetables such as asparagus, fennel, and baby spinach way up onto their long-awaited pedestal. It also feels and nearly looks like risotto minus the questionably constant stirring, angst, and jaw-clenching risotto seems to engender. While it bubbles away nearly untended, you can look to other occupations like pouring wine, chatting, setting the table, or if you’re like me, petting Rosie–just spayed and not too happy with it. Poor baby. She does like the pills that come all wrapped up in cream cheese for easy swallowing.
For other meals, I cook orzo separately and make a heartier dish or pasta salad, adding feta, tiny tomatoes, celery or peas, basil or parsley, and a vinaigrette. Either variation is easy to make ahead early on a warm day for a potluck or as a bed for that night’s grilled fish, shrimp, chicken or chops. You can find regular orzo easily in the pasta aisle of your B-flat grocery store, but there are also some brands that sell the whole-wheat variety, which adds fiber and protein. Try this:
ONE-PAN ORZO “RISOTTO” WITH ASPARAGUS, FENNEL, AND CHERRY TOMATOES
|All together: Annual Lilac-Bloom Dinner last Friday at our house.|
|Newman came for the occasion.|
|Gabby’s always happy with guests!|
Sing a new song, get outside,
|Don’t know what to do with chicken? How about cook it?|
I simply don’t know how to do anything without doing it with all my heart. In fact, I don’t. Unless it’s washing sheets (yes, I’ll do it today), cleaning the stairs (twice a week with golden retrievers), driving through construction (not on googlemaps, of course), going to the DMV, shopping for a pair of black pants at Macy’s (How many places could black pants be and how much should I pay?), or picking up the trash folks leave in my yard (the price for living in the city.) I mean, boredom or even half-heartedness is not interesting and I don’t learn or grow from it. Thriving on change is a good way to live. Especially since change is the way things are. The new normal. Change, in fact, is the status quo. Hmm.
So when I look at the stack of chickens in my freezer (Book club friend’s husband has a tie to great organic, free-range poultry and the order just came a couple of weeks ago.) and go, “Oh, no!” I rear my head in disappointment at myself and begin dreaming chicken.
In the oven
On the grill
Poulet au vin blanc (chicken with white wine)
Con poblanos (with green chiles)
Next to asparagus
In the crock pot
Snuggled up in noodles, celery, and onions
In a world where the hungry numbered 925 million in 2010, I am embarrassed that how I cook chicken is even a topic. I do indulge myself on this blog, however, and go on after breathing deeply.
The other night, I just couldn’t come up with anything terribly new and entertaining for chicken (in the summer) and just began throwing the parts into the pan. They’d get done, wouldn’t they? We’d eat, wouldn’t we? But, wait: first the parts should be seasoned very well with salt and pepper. (Leaving out an entrancing snout-full of pepper is what people often do with chicken. And it’s pale and insipid and oh, you fill in the blank. Same for salt. Poultry HAS to be well-seasoned, whatever you choose to do it with. Particularly if you’re eating it as is or the poultry is of the very inexpensive sort.) And, oh, let’s roll into the pan some fragrant olive oil if we’re just cooking it any which old way.
As this what-the-hell supper began to cook, here’s what it looked like:
You know the drill; you have the picture. Well, I don’t know what you do with yours, but I’m not standing there watching chicken cook. I had other fish to fry. (Right.) After it browned well on both sides (a good 5-7 minutes each side over medium-high heat), I threw that sucker in the oven to finish cooking for another 20-25 minutes or so:
And wondered what else was for dinner. Just like you. A quick bang of the pantry and frig doors showed pasta, rice, capers, carrots, yellow squash, celery, lemon, and feta. On the counter were onions and garlic because in Alyce’s kitchen, God (and a gardening neighbor) is good and those things are always there. A glass full of basil sat at the sink. Mint’s in a pot next to the tub of rosemary (that needed water so badly it looked like a Christmas tree in January) outside my backdoor. And because there’s a difference between eating and enjoying the meal with my husband, I began to grab pots, knives, cutting board, and so on. It soon appeared that an orzo salad was coming together as orzo cooks quickly and is a great home for savory and piquant additions. And oh how I love olives! with orzo and feta. No olives, though, more’s the pity. Capers would have to suffice unless I wanted to sprint to the store during rush hour. Probably not. Before the chicken was done, the salad was ready:
So you have the idea of the chicken. Season well, brown throughly on both sides, and finish in a moderate (350 F) oven until quite browned and juices run clear or thermometer registers 165 F. Unsure about temperatures, read the USDA guidelines–very simple. While the chicken is in the oven, cook the orzo and chop the veg and cheese. While this chicken with an orzo salad isn’t an instant meal, it’s fairly quick and hits the major food groups in a tasty way. And, hey! There would be leftovers for lunch. Yum leftovers. Who isn’t, after all that, glad to reach in the frig and pull out a piece of chicken come noon?
Take the time to season this baby (the orzo salad) lovingly. It takes a bit of thought, and trial/error, but you can go from “Yeah, that’s ok” to “Wow!” with attention, care, and a bit of knowledge. Generally the wow factor comes from one of these:
The best ingredients you can find
Thorough, but not over-seasoning
Use fresh herbs (usually at the very end before serving)
Appropriate addition of acid (in this case lemon juice)
If you’re unsure, take a small portion, add the questionable ingredient and try it. See if that’s going to make the difference. Take three small portions and try three techniques…which do you like? You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by this process. So here’s how I did it this time:
Alyce’s Orzo Salad on That Day (amounts are approximate) Serves 4 (as does a whole chicken)
1 cup uncooked orzo
1/2 cup each chopped finely diced carrots or cucumber, and yellow squash
1/4 cup chopped celery
2 cloves garlic smashed and finely minced (or more to taste)
2T minced red onion
2T ea chopped fresh mint and basil
1/4 c chopped fresh parsley
Pinch of oregano
1T capers (or a small handful of chopped kalamata olives)
1/2 t grated lemon zest
Kosher salt and pepper to taste (try just a bit of salt at first as capers and feta are salty)
Big pinch of crushed red pepper
1T white or red wine vinegar
3T extra virgin olive oil, divided (You’ll use some to flavor the hot orzo and some later for dressing.)
Juice of half a lemon
Optional: Top with 1/2 cup chopped tomatoes and a sprinkle of pine nuts or toasted chopped walnuts
- Cook orzo according to package directions and drain well. Pour the orzo into a mixing bowl and stir in 1 T of the olive oil. Sprinkle with just a pinch of salt and pepper.
- Add vegetables (including garlic and onions), feta, herbs, oregano, capers or olives, and lemon zest. Stir well.
- Add salt, pepper, and crushed red pepper. Taste and reseason.
- Sprinkle with vinegar and stir. Drizzle in other two tablespoons of olive oil and stir again. Add tomatoes and nuts, if using. Taste and adjust seasonings if necessary.
- Squeeze lemon over all.
- Serve warm, at room temperature, or cold. Store leftovers in refrigerator, tightly covered, for 2-3 days.
Another cook might have added finely chopped fennel, marinated artichokes, green peppers, jicama….and so on.
Two-Dog Kitchen and Around the ‘Hood
It isn’t quite the last rose of summer (above), but there are moments, despite the heat, that I want to run to each flower and smell each one up close while I can. I bravely planted some new things last week near the perennial hibiscus in my corner garden. I’ll show you when they bloom. (Please bloom.)
What else I’m cooking:
I’m considering some new recipes for those who are in the healing process or need softer meals:
|A lovely butternut (and other) squash soup with thyme for garnish.|
A healthier, chock-full of stuff zucchini bread is in the works and you’ll read about it here first.
|Whole wheat zucchini bread with dried cherries, raisins, nuts and bits of dark chocolate for your heart.|
About the house:
|And will it look like this again? Guess so.|
I am finally getting my house to make sense nearly three months after the moving truck arrived. While the kitchen, bedrooms and dining room quickly fell into place (though bedding and tablecloths still seem to be in short supply), the living room defied taming. A small, but pleasant light teal room that has a 3-season porch attached and boasts a bright, clean piano window (Thanks to my friend, Chris Brown:), it just made me shake my head (read that want to puke) whenever I took the time to look at it. Now my living room, unlike some, is in constant use. I often work at home and am at the piano or on the couch (with the good lamp) reading and studying. I run between the pots in the kitchen to the hymnal on the stand to the computer to write and I need that room to not only be comfortable, but to be feng shuied mighty fine. I nurse a glass of wine in there while enjoying the Sunday New York Times sometimes in the evening. (I never get it done on Sundays.) I sit and read while Dave naps with his head on my lap. The dogs have their favorite spot on the wool rug. To say nothing of sharing a cup of coffee with a friend. But the room had its own ideas about itself and it wanted to be tilted in the direction of what appeared to be a huge (it is) piano and a squeezed in sofa with two chairs nearly on top of one another in the corner with a beautiful table that cried, “Get rid of me. I’m too crowded.” It made my lip curl like Elvis and my brow crease like Bruce Willis when he’s in a real tight place. I said nasty stuff about my furniture. Talked about paying designers. Wrote friends who WERE designers. Hemmed and hawed. (What is hemmed and hawed?)
|They aren’t concerned about what color the walls are; they just want to be together. Rightly so. Love dogs!|
Our physical selves often mimic our emotional or spiritual circumstances and, in this case, it was exactly so. (Thanks to old friend Rev. Virginia Memmott for knowing that.) As long as I hithered and thithered and dithered about the move, living in Minnesota , the hot summer, our Colorado house, the need for a job, etc, I couldn’t settle down enough to “see” how things had to be.
|Living room the day the truck arrived|
One day last week, after receiving word of my new choir director job at Prospect Park United Methodist (Come sing!), I just walked in there, started moving stuff, called Dave down to pound nails in the walls for artwork, and found a way for that room to be arranged that not only made sense, but was downright charming. After a day or so, I also saw that the light had changed. The walls were more awake and you could read more easily as the sun was now in its late August position. No more cave feeling. And I like it. And so there, room. And, while it’s still hot outdoors, my eyes fall upon space that is welcoming, comfortable, and full of the things I love. I didn’t have to go buy all new furniture or consign the art; I just had to give myself time to breathe and want the space to work. Thanks, God.
|A bit more welcoming, huh?|
Below: Late hostas blooming on the east side of the house. In other places, leaves are falling and the acorns crunch underfoot. The acorns are even falling on the patio table that sits below a maple tree. Now there IS an oak tree in the yard next door. And somehow the acorns are moving from the oak to the maple and falling on us during dinner.
Sing a new song,