Refrigerator Roulette

   In celebration of our new apartment, new kitchen, and today our new fridge, I bring for your starved eyes and idle hands "improvisational meals." Following are dishes which I'm glad to say had cost me no stress to craft—a quality that is often lacking when I am playing the part as chef. The first two utilize ingredients left over from previous nights, while the latter two are not only more appealing, but they lead in a concept I much appreciate: cooking with condiments.
   In an early post, I subtly mentioned one of the most integral precepts I cook by: You work with what you have. A recipe calls for something you don't have? Find a substitute; or, possibly, you can omit it. Though, in these cases, it's much simpler than that. Hungry? Look in the fridge and start pulling out ingredients. Fond memories of my dad making lunch for us stem from this basic principle. His idea of pizza was very...unique.

Hasty, yet Tasty

   Lunch is usually my first meal of the day, simply because I rarely have time anymore for breakfast. If I do have breakfast, it's usually in the form of Pop-Tarts or fruit; when it's not, it's a special occasion. But returning to lunch, the most impromptu of these plates seem to always start with a tortilla.

March 1, 2013 - Concocted Steak Fajitas

   This wasn't so on-the-spot as I initially led you on to believe. I brought all of the ingredients to work and assembled it there for the microwave oven. The tortilla and peppers were provided from home, while the steak and cheese came from Baja Fresh. Something I picked up from someone somewhere: you can shop for ingredients from local restaurants, just as you might ask for "extra" on the side. Yes, it's cheap in more ways than one, but hey, it saves time and effort for a lone pair of lunchtime fajitas.

March 1, 2013 - Concocted Steak Fajitas

   Now, if you really wanna talk cheap, long before that delicious treat was even possible—and, actually, a few months before I met Jes in person—I'd made a burrito (pictured below) containing melted Havarti, leftover Chinese-takeout rice mixed with a couple of packets of Taco Bell mild sauce, and sliced pear. The Taco-Bell sauce was a phase of my early cooking days, and you'll hear the end of it another day. But I must say, for something so embarassingly bland, it was actually a decent meal.

July 30, 2011 - Meatless, Veggie-less Burrito

A League of Its Own

   Moving right along to the other half, there's something to be said about refrigerated condiments. Ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise—in my youth, these things found their way to the table merely as add-ons for burgers, pretzels, and sandwiches; but somewhere along my life, I got the idea that they should really be add-ins. Shirley, I'd often watched my mother put ketchup in meatloaf—and the memory of her using the short-lived green variety that hit the supermarket shelves one year is actually more hilarious than revolting.
   Ground mustard was upon our spice rack, and I'd sprinkled that over potato salad and other sorts of foods as a kid exploring distinct flavors. The squirtable version was less a favorite of mine, even for hotdogs and kielbasa which I consider proper pairings nowadays. And mayonnaise is often used as a binding agent due to its egg-content. Well, my mom would be proud to learn that last one had stuck with me after all those years, because when I thought of ingredients to mix together for a delectable, moist coating for boneless chicken breasts, mayo was at the top of the list.

July 13, 2015 - Art o' Chicken

   The other two noticeable pieces of this spread were chopped artichoke hearts and black olives, along with a tasty dose of garlic powder, salt and pepper. My passion was really showing that night, as though I knew exactly what the outcome would taste like even before I'd opened the mayo jar. A few combining stirs later and a balanced application over the thawed chicken, these saw their way to the oven and came out without a worry for their doneness. Only God could have orchestrated such peace in the kitchen that day, and if that weren't enough, this meal marks the third which Jes and I agree belongs in my portfolio.

The Best of the Worce-t

   The side dish for my artichoke-chicken was a preparation of yellow squash Jes had made with Worce-ster-shire sauce. Another condiment which I used to only apply to well-done steaks, the very label suggests using it for marinating. Well, I can't say that I've done that yet, but I have put it to work as a form of simmering broth.

January 27, 2014 - Baked BBQ Chicken Remastered

   I can't say I recall why this reads "baked BBQ chicken." I'm almost certain it was leftovers—I just have no recollection of having eaten it any other day, or preparing it, if we were indeed responsible for it. It might've been undercooked after some time in the oven, as that's the only explanation I can consider. Regardless, it made its way to this sauté pan along with Worcestershire sauce for a proper searing, and a generous amount of ground black pepper.
   Following, it took a bath in Coca-Cola. Yes. There's some sentimental value among my brother and me in using effervescent caffeine beverages (soda) as a cooking ingredient, but to settle things right out, it's simply the flavor that actually made this work. If this remastering saw another remastered moment, the three enhancers might better find themselves combined as a marinade, given the acidity of the soda.

January 27, 2014 - Baked BBQ Chicken Remastered

   The sides for this picnic-reminiscent dish included (clockwise from bottom left) canned beans (wax, kidney and green) with rosemary and black olives, a can of "southern cabbage," and frozen shoepeg corn cooked and burnt to deliberate perfection. The liquid left over from drowning the chicken ended up reducing for the sauce shown.

Pasta: Present & Future

   I think it is high time we start a series. There are plenty more stories to tell and several other dishes to discuss; there are still some failures worth highlighting, and eventually we'll even get into the original recipes. But now that the groundwork has been laid, I'd at least like to begin with some of the simpler things to prepare.

   Pasta must be the first thing I've felt confident cooking, and I'd like to believe I share that sentiment with most college students. Whether it's a package of ramen or a box of Kraft mac 'n' cheese, there is so much appeal to having a filling serving within 10 minutes—give or take. And while instant Cup Noodles are still a thing for me, instant mac 'n' cheese never caught on.
   Homestyle mac 'n' cheese gets my attention, but there is a hefty amount of nostalgia waiting beneath that ultra-delicious, likely-synthetic Kraft cheese sauce, such that no matter how many times I'm tempted to even order the over-priced, small-portion versions that so many restaurants offer, my heart always jumps to consider Kraft.

The Pasta Constitution

   For consistency's sake, "pasta," for me, includes everything Italian which comes to mind and everything Asian which usually doesn't. Shirley, other regions' variations also fall into this category (Middle-Eastern cuisine tends to combine pasta with rice; Polish cuisine includes pierogies; Turkey and Hungary make dumplings), but since the word itself originates in Italian, we don't often consider the others in the same light.

Somen Noodles

   "Pasta" comes from the Latin for "dough" (literally "paste"), and therein lies the connection; however, this is different from your typical bread dough because pasta does not traditionally contain a rising agent, such as yeast, etc. The preparation of ramen is unique in that it does rise in order to create a spongelike network, before being dried for packaging. What I see from this, though, is that each culture treated one meal component in vastly different ways, and it shows how versatile pasta truly is.
   Whatever its nationality, pasta is almost always made from wheat. Gluten is the operative factor in pasta, being responsible for the dough's initial elasticity. (Gluten is inherently found within wheat, barley, rye, spelt, and related grains.) Individual wheat pastas can vary greatly by their flour, affecting both their texture (00-grade to whole-wheat) and color (buckwheat in soba noodles).
   When it's not made from wheat, the starch can be obtained from rice, yams, beans, cassava (tapioca), etc. These are naturally gluten-free; however, if they are transported or processed alongside wheat products, they may become contaminated with gluten. Like the callout "may contain traces of peanuts," facilities which process wheat are also mentioned on packaging. Alternatives to gluten often use xanthan gum (bacteria-based) and/or guar gum (plant-based) to produce similar elasticity.
   The other half of pasta is egg, but this actually only comes into play when you're making your own. If gluten is the binding ingredient, egg is used for its moisture. But boxed pastas are dried, and so, most of them don't even contain egg; those are merely fortified flour. Many of them are, however, made in facilities which process eggs, so there is that to consider.

   I did mention that this is simple. As such, in this series of recipes, I'm not at all talking about fresh, homemade pasta—which I have no experience with either directly or through purchasing. If you're looking to make pasta from scratch, I recommend this full-fledged article lovingly explaining the dos and don'ts of the process. After reading that, I honestly look forward to trying it myself. But for all past creations of ours, and those for the foreseeable future, we are strictly talking stiff, mass-produced and pre-packaged pasta.

Layers of Love

   You know I love to address leftovers, so it makes sense that this recipe comes after the rat. I slaved over slicing those vegetables—rounds of tomato, yellow squash, zucchini, baby eggplant, and Anaheim pepper. I actually ended up with so much extra that the baking dish I photographed for the previous recipe was the smaller container. A lot of these were likewise layered in their rosette form within our 5-quart pot. And still, there were leftovers.

PrepaRATions

   So, what became of those remaining slices? Two days later, they made their debut in another dinner party for vegetable lasagna. I love the Stouffer's meal that ShopRite rewards you with during holidays, though I assure you that what follows doesn't stack up nearly as tall.

April 20, 2012 - Vegetable Lasagna

   If this weren't already an amateur attempt, the noodles were labeled "oven-ready." How appropriate for the first recipe in this series, to showcase the most convenient and cheap pasta. There's no shame associated in using it; I just wasn't comfortable with cooking giant noodles to al dente perfection—and so you know, I haven't made lasagna since.
   The first layer to go down is usually the sauce. If not, it's oil. Here, it was probably just puree, as I'd used for the ratatouille. After that went three oven-ready lasagna noodles, ricotta along two of them (explanation follows), and yellow squash and zucchini rounds over that. The order of vegetables doesn't really matter, and the selection can be replaced with broccoli, carrot, etc. One-third of this lasagna was made to be free-of-cheese, because when Jes and I first met, we suspected that she may have had lactose-intolerance or some other disability which was affected by dairy. (We're still waiting to discover the real issue, but that explains why some of our meals avoid cheese). And, I'm not one for using substitutes, so that third was nothing more than pasta primavera in the end.

April 20, 2012 - Vegetable Lasagna

   The sauce restarts the layering, followed by three more noodles, more ricotta, zucchini and eggplant rounds, and shredded mozzarella—again, along the two-thirds. By this point, the cheese-less side was starting to look rather shallow.

April 20, 2012 - Vegetable Lasagna

   The final layer (over sauce, noodles and ricotta) took the vegetable remainder: more zucchini, yellow squash, and the delicate tomatoes. More mozzarella was added before chopped basil, dried oregano and ground pepper topped the whole plate. You can tell I was skimping on some of these ingredients, which is one reason why I'm not including measurements: if you think it deserves more, go for it. The other reason, you might have guessed, is because I honestly don't know. But, if I could go back and change one thing, I'd probably layer this twice as high, at least. Which, of course, would call for more vegetables than I had ready.

April 20, 2012 - Vegetable Lasagna

   I do not believe I covered this. Ideally, lasagna should be covered with foil for the greater length of its cook-time, and uncovered for a short time following for that nice, browned-cheese effect. For specifics, 350 degrees for 30 minutes is about par, with 10 additional minutes uncovered. Temperature may vary to 375 or 400 degrees, and timing may vary from 25 to 45 minutes depending on the ingredients (cream sauce, meat, etc.). If these vegetables had been chunkier, that may have been reason enough to kick up the heat.
   For that additional time, I added our wonderfully lumpy grated parmesan to the top. I can't say that a plated slice was presentable. Then again, that's usual in my experience with lasagna. But it was worth the minimal effort it took to assemble, and that's about all it takes to please most people. Texture? sloppy. Taste? smooth. Room for improvement? definitely. Will you see it here? probably not.

Other Recipes in this Series:
Ruth's Pasta Salad
Baked Spaghetti with Cheesy Garlic Bread
Deconstructed Shrimp Alfredo
Shrimp Ramen

Dem Bones: Revisited

   Life is full of mistakes, missed opportunities, false hopes and broken dreams. What does that mean for us? I threw out the bones!
   I know, with all my talk on stretching ingredients, I should've known better. As it turns out, those bones are on their way to a landfill somewhere, destined to eventually re-enter the ecological cycles that saw their creation. But, it leaves me to wonder what a second stock might have looked and tasted like in comparison to the prototype.
   Remouillage is the term for "re-wetting" bones for this second stock. Its primary purpose serves efficiency—extending the use of those bones for flavor and body. Veal bones tend to be the routine, which sources suggest is due to veal's higher market price. And the reason money actually matters here is that the product of a remouillage (called the same) is traditionally nothing special. You wouldn't ordinarily use a second stock the same way as a fresh one. In fact, it's often simply added to the first and reduced (i.e., boiled down).
   Other practical uses for a remouillage include replacing water in a recipe, such as for a soup that would use your first stock or for a risotto; reducing it to form a glaze for meats; etc.

A Good Source

   Going back to stock, the best of the best will utilize joints more than straight sections of bone. Knuckles, neck, and similar areas which happen to have less meat would be full of tendons, ligaments, and cartilage; chicken feet fall especially within this category. Considered inedible and unpleasant to the average palate, these parts are perfect for making stock; and after seeing what's really left from boiling bones, you'll know why.

January 23, 2016 - Beef Stock Scraps

   To see the bone beforehand, it's hard to imagine just how little of it was actually bone. I can't discern weight very well, but for the size of that raw bone, 1½ pounds felt very heavy. In reality, it was merely dense. That inner collagen-matrix (or scaffold, as some call it)—what we simply refer to as the marrow—ultimately melted down and became the broth. And that's exactly what you're looking for when you slowcook a bone for hours.
   The leftover bone itself (pictured) obviously could have withstood a lot more pressure. But the question is, would it have been worth it? to simmer that bone until there'd be nothing solid left to discard? Before you answer that, you have to be certain of one thing: where did your bones come from?

The Element of Surprise

   Apparently, there's a lot of controversy over the risks of consuming a bone broth; and we're not talking about swallowing bone fragments. A healthy bone consists of calcium and phosphorous, dense collagen, and numerous micronutrients. However, bones are also a repository for toxic elements such as lead (Pb). The health-scare comes from the belief that this lead will seep into the broth alongside the beneficial elements. So then, sourcing your bones to healthier animals, those which are less likely to have consumed lead in the first place, is your best option for combatting this claim.
   I say "claim" because a January-2013 study took a lot of heat for its well-meaning public alert regarding lead exposure in bone broth. A scathing, comprehensive review of it can be seen here. While lead, when it is present, does effectively contaminate the stock, there was much left unsaid about the source of the researchers' samples (chicken parts as well as the water used). But to return to the thought at hand, how and where an animal is raised has much to do with the nutrition consuming it will pass on.
   Lead is one of those elements that plagues our environment and never goes away; it is labeled "non-essential and toxic." A by-product of mining, some countries are more affected by it than others. It can be present in soils to varying degrees (including absence), but it is also present in the atmosphere. Soil-lead tends to remain sequestered within a plant's roots (read here), while atmospheric dust accounts for the majority of lead present in a plant's shoots (reference here) or in the plant as a whole (read here). The point of all this is to say, if lead is in the plants, it is in the food chain; and whether we're consuming the animals that feed on leaded plants, or other plants fertilized with those animals' manure, lead is likely in our diet as well.
   As with any toxin, however, there is a limit. (Indeed, some naturally occurring poisonous compounds, if consumed, will only result in sickness, not death.) By natural order, most of the lead which enters the body moves into the animal's bones, humans included. This keeps it far from the systems which would ultimately end up most affected by it. If lead concentrations grow too great, the effects start to poison various metabolic processes throughout the body. So the operative question is, how does the body remove lead from its stores?
   This author relates it to the advantage of the mineral selenium on the detriment of mercury (both from the consumption of fish). Where mercury aims to replace selenium and destroy those puzzle-piece enzymes in the process, a greater quantity of selenium will inhibit this effect. Lead has a similar relationship with calcium and iron, but by extension, calcium and iron guard against the bodily absorption of lead. Additionally, vitamins such as D, C and B1 help to pass lead into the urine to be removed entirely from the body.
   Expounding upon a previous point and bringing us back to the bone, homemade stock is not a huge source of calcium (read here). This is because, while the majority of a bone is in fact comprised of calcium and phosphorous, those elements are each part of an insoluble compound (reference here). Suffice it to say, boiling water will not leach calcium from a bone. This is where strong acids such as undiluted vinegar or hydrochloric acid come into play. Not only does this mean eating a bone can be beneficial (consider fish bones), but it makes me really want to utilize a vinegar bath for the start of a remouillage.

Take a Collagen Course

   Collagen is the real reason for the bone-broth hype. There is at least a score of types of collagen, differentiated by their structure, as dictated by the levels of the amino acids within them. These types are enumerated after Roman fashion, and the five most common are explained in this video. Of those, types I and III are the most abundant. Type I is found within the skin, bones, tendons, etc.; type III is common to blood vessels and muscles, as well as alongside type I. Type II is present in cartilage, and it also makes up the entirety of the eye's vitreous. Type IV is found in the eye's lens, and is a part of the body's filtration system. Type V is a major component of the placenta, and it also found in the space between cells.

The By-Products' Juices Produce These Uses

   If you've skipped straight to this section, I don't blame you. What follows is really the focus to this post: you've made the broth, you've done the easy part; now what? Well, every bit of your previous recipe has its place. Assuming your stock has been freshly strained at this moment, I'd first like to address the leftovers.

   Especially if you used meat in your stock, these strained items (sans bones, bay leaves, etc.) have a revival story to tell. That bowlful of slowcooked goodness may look melt-in-your-mouth scrumptious, but the science of making stock reminds us that there is little to no flavor left in those scraps. However, the fact that they haven't completely dissolved tells us that there is still nutrition to them.
   A couple of uses include homemade dog food or reconstituting them into a stew. Now, I'm no vet, and I've actually never owned a dog, but I've always been intrigued by the families who've prepped meals for their dogs. And let's face it: this looks the part. Right alongside that idea, putting them in a stew just sounds redundant. I mean, you just removed them from the liquid. If you're going to put them back in and add salt and potatoes, what have you really accomplished? But, hey, the options get better from here.
   I thought about it a moment and decided to make shepherd's pie (recipe to follow). Those casseroles of my childhood utilized ground beef, peas and carrots. These leftovers looked even more appetizing, so why not try it? To balance out their lack of flavor, you could either use a marinade on them or really dress up their blanket of mashed potatoes.
   Similarly, online sources suggest baking the leftovers into a gravy-laden pot pie.

mmm, pudding

   No, that's not a pot pie. Neither is it pudding, but it really looked like it, especially considering Jes had recently made matcha-white-chocolate pudding.
   That, my friends, is pure beef fat. Lard. If you'll recall, I said I won't cook with the store-bought, manufactured variety. (It's too much to worry about sources, techniques, age, nutrition; not to mention, that's one thing I wouldn't want to buy in bulk.) Most people advocate throwing this out. I mean, it has separated itself, and refrigeration's made it solid and therefore easy-to-remove.

pie crust

   I endorse removing, but also reserving. After attacking the ice-sheet with a blunt knife and a spatula, it portions itself nicely. Just put them in the freezer and take out a piece as needed. You can use it in place of butter in most recipes (homemade biscuits, but not homemade biscotti; this is beef-flavored, after all). Commenters here suggest warming it and basting pre-cooked meat to effectively turn a conventional oven into a microwave oven, or melting it over dog food as a treat that results in a healthier coat. Jes and I might try rubbing it on a roast or a London broil. Additionally, because rendered fat has a decent smoke point and a ton of flavor, it can also be used for the base of a roux.
   Other ideas, including for oil sourced from other animals, can be read here.

apple sauce

   Finally comes the gelatinous gem itself: stock. How should you use it, beside exploiting its unsettling texture in a video? Well, following the thought of roux, why not make it the base of your gumbo? You know I'm tempted to try that—and, of course, document it. Similarly, as with any stock, once you salt it, you've got a broth and you're well on your way to making soup. These are the kind of meals what make winter bearable, am I right?
   If you really reduce this down, you'll end up with a gravy that makes you rethink the canned stuff. I'm not a fan of that gravy, but I love meat au jus; for me, it's a matter of redefining what gravy should be, and this is definitely the way to do that.
   As if there weren't enough recipe variants for soups, stews, and gumbos to keep you busy, maybe you'll feel up to the task of creating an aspic. Too often is this traditional garnish turned into a culinary tragedy, as savory jello molds come to mind. But an aspic should work as a cold spread, even a condiment, for the meat it's derived from. Fish tends to be a popular one. Of course, if you're really interested in the nightmarish version, you might at least be better off using powdered gelatin to accomplish your deeds.