Sausage, Barley, and Alien Soup

At first we were afraid. Very afraid. Imagine, Emma the Innocent is innocently chopping vegetables for a nice pot o' sausage, barley, and mushroom soup. Engineer the Brilliant is expounding on vector-based something-or-other, which involve moments of gobbledegook and forces corresponding to jibberish. Emma the Innocent nods sagely and pulls another parsnip from the grocery bag....or DOES she?! Screams of terror! Vector-based forces collide in moments! Counter attack--we'll EAT him out!
When that proved too crunchy and tasteless, we decided to make friends. Here's the Engineer and his new friend communing.
Aw, shucks. We're gonna miss that little guy!And then we decided to sacrifice him to the Gods of Hunger and put him in our soup pot. As if in comic retribution, the resulting soup was bitter and lacked depth of flavor. I've made this soup before with wonderful, no-leftovers-left-over results, so I can only conclude that parsnips are not a good substitute for carrots (which I loathe) in this particular dish. The whole time I choked down my bowl, I kept thinking, "Dang. I really just want the taste of potatoes in this." So next time? Potatoes.

In an attempt to salvage the rest of the pot, I tried sprinkling my next bowl with a healthy portion of freshly grated Parmesan cheese. (Cheese can never hurt, right? Though I was worried about wasting my lovely Parmigiano Reggiano...) While parsnips still are definitely not the best choice for this soup, with the addition of cheese, the soup went from "inedible" to "acceptably decent." It wasn't until days later while reading "Umami: A Taste By Any Other Name" by Rowan Jacobson (published in The Art of Eating, Issue No. 72) when I realized that what was lacking in the soup--and what the Parmesan made up for--was the flavor of umami.

Umami literally means "the essence of deliciousness" in Japanese, and is a legitimate fifth taste with its very own taste buds alongside those responding to sweet, sour, salty, and bitter. At its most basic, the flavor of umami comes from the amino acid glutamate (of the ill-famed MSG additive). The umami flavor can perhaps best be described as 'savory' and is found in protein based foods where the protein has begun to break down--like aged and cured beef, anchovies, soy sauce, and, yes, you guessed it, Parmesan cheese. In fact, the little tiny white crystals in Parmigiano Reggiano are granules of an amino acid with umami flavor. As Rowan Jacobsen says in his article, "Whenever a soup or sauce 'needs something,' chances are that something is umami--and, chances are, a Western cook will mistakenly add salt instead." Oops. Guilty. Too bad I didn't read that article until after I'd made the soup...

Here is the soup recipe for your very own experiments. Unless you feel like playing around with umami, I'd recommend leaving the parsnips to their alien conspiracies. The original recipe (found HERE) calls for celery and carrots, but since I don't like those things, I leave them out. I might try adding potatoes for a little more body and starch next time I make it, but I've also made it a few times with the recipe exactly as I've written it below and loved it. Enjoy!

Sausage, Barley, & Mushroom Soup
Makes 4-6 one-cup servings

• 1 large onion, diced
• 4 links of turkey or chicken sausage (spicy or sweet, as you prefer)--slit each link down the center and remove from casing. Break into crumbly pieces with your fingers. (Or you can chop them if you're grossed out.)
  
• 4 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 bay leaf
• 2 tablespoons fresh thyme, chopped
• 1 1/2 cups of portobello or baby bella mushrooms (I use 1 carton from the store)
• 5 cups shiitake mushrooms (about 1/2 lb), stems discarded and chopped (this is best when mushrooms are in season and you can find them at farmer's markets. Otherwise, I add a second carton of baby bella mushrooms.)
• 1 cup barley
• 6 cups chicken stock
• Salt and Pepper to taste

In a large stock pot, saute the onion in a few teaspoons of oil until soft and translucent. Add the sausage and cook until the sausage is browned. Add garlic, bay leaf, and thyme and stir until garlic is fragrant. Add mushrooms and cook until mushrooms just begin to sweat and shrivel. Add chicken broth and barley.

With the lid off, bring the soup to a boil. Once boiling, cover and reduce to a simmer. The soup is done when the barley is tender. If you have quick-cooking barley, the soup will be ready in about 15 minutes. Regular pearl barley will take about 45 minutes. Check seasonings and add salt and pepper to taste.

WeightWatcher's Notes: I use Al Fresco Chicken Sausage in this soup, which is 70% less fat than regular sausage. It comes in a lot of good flavors and the quality is good for use in soups like this. Depending on the flavor you get, one link is 3 - 4 points. The pot usually makes about 6 cups or more, so a serving is about 3.5 points for a one-cup serving. Depending on the type of sausage you find, you should double check the points. The total for the entire pot of soup before adding the sausage is 6 points.

And don't forget, Parsnip Aliens have feelings too.

Don't be a Chicken!

I became a vegetarian my senior year in high school and only started eating meat again years later after making three very tough realizations:

1. The "for real" reason why I became a vegetarian was because my boyfriend decided to go veg and so I did too.
2. The vegetarian and I had broken up years ago.
3. I like meat.

Whether it's admitted or not, I think many people of my generation fell prey to the allure of vegetarianism not for ethical or altruistic reasons, but because it was cool at the time. Now, I fully recognize that for some folks vegetarianism was a good fit and what started as a fad became genuine heartfelt philosophy. But for the rest of us, I think we knew in our heart of hearts that we didn't quite belong. Oh, I was able to spout the memorized lines from the brochures along with the best of them, but I knew I was a liar.

I felt guilty and torn and miserable: a Judah among vegetarians. I just never stopped wanting meat. I craved it with a passion. I salivated at the sight of a big juicy cheeseburger. My stomach rumbled for bacon at brunch. I drooled for fried chicken (indeed, chicken fingers would be my ultimate downfall). When I admitted this to the seasoned vegetarians, they would nod reassuringly and say, "Don't worry. The longer you're a vegetarian, the less appeal meat will have for you." I trusted, I believed, I tried all the faux-meats I could get my hands on. I even tried NOT eating the faux-meats, thinking that maybe the faux-meats were just compounding my desire for real meat. Ultimately, I had to admit that I had a problem: I just wasn't a vegetarian.

I strongly believe in the ethical treatment of animals. I believe that consuming organically-raised and free-range animals is better for reasons of health, sustainability, and long-term economy. However, I do not believe that humans are natural vegetarians. I believe humans are true omnivores, and from a biological perspective, we are meant to eat meat--along with grains, vegetables, legumes, and other edibles. I believe that being a vegetarian is a choice made for personal, religious, or ethical reasons, not because it's a natural state of being for humans.

I also believe that it's ok to kill animals for food. I would prefer that the killing and butchering is done in a moral way and in a way that is as respectful of the animal as it is of the people the animal is going to feed. This is why I buy local, organic, and free-range meat whenever possible and affordable. One of the attitudes of the general vegetarian movement that I found (and still find) most problematic is that by declaring it immoral to kill another animal for consumption, vegetarians are removing themselves and humans further from nature. Animals killing other animals for food is an integral part of what it means to exist in the natural world. If we say that it's wrong for humans to kill other animals for food, this elevates us above nature and distances us from the very thing we are claiming to care for.

This anthropocentric attitude is a very slippery slope. In our attempts to protect nature and act as steward to the environment, it's easy to forget that we are also a part of nature and are subject to the same grisly, unpleasant, natural rules as all other creatures. There are valid religious reasons for not killing other animals for food, some of which I respect and some of which I still find troubling, but many of these religions also have a counterbalancing philosophy that grounds followers firmly in the natural world.

Incidentally, I think that it's a real problem that humans have no real predators in the natural world at this point in history. We need a few predators (and other humans don't count) to keep us honest and remind us that we're not as in charge of things as we think.

When I first began eating meat again, I usually only ate it when it was being prepared for me. On my own, I usually cooked with tofu and only the occasional chicken breast. I didn't really know how to prepare meat so that it tasted good and also so that I knew I was being sanitary. And truthfully, ashamedly, grudgingly, I admit that I was squeamish. And still am. Though my attitude is slowly changing, my initial reaction to most raw meat is, "Ewwwww." It jiggles. It's sometimes bloody. There are little veins and tendons and sinews. And it's really really hard to forget that this thing I am inexpertly hacking into pieces on my counter was once a living creature.

But if I am going to be a meat-eater, these are the things that I need to deal with. Part of respecting this creature who died to feed me is actively remembering--not forgetting--that this animal with its innermost parts exposed on my counter was indeed once alive. I work to see the beauty in an otherwise decidedly unbeautiful moment. When I can afford it, I respect the animal by choosing one that was raised and killed in an ethical way. I also respect the animal by learning how to cook it properly.

To this end, a few weeks ago I decided that it was time to learn how to prepare a whole chicken.

Don't Be a Chicken: The Novice's Guide to Cooking a Whole Chicken

To feed four hungry people with enough leftover for a batch of enchiladas, all you need is a 4-pound chicken. In various recipes, you might see this referred to as a "roaster." In point of fact, the categories of chickens available for purchase break down like this:

Broilers: Young chickens of either sex that weigh about 2 1/2 pounds
Fryers: Young chickens of either sex that weight about 2 1/2 - 3 1/2 pounds
Roasters: Chickens of either sex, under 8 months old, and weigh 3 1/2 to 5 pounds
Stewing Chickens: Chickens over 10 months old (their meat is tougher and more stringy, so this type of chicken is best used in dishes like stews, as the name implies, that provide a long cooking time to break down the meat.)
Capons: Castrated males that weigh 6 - 8 pounds

When picking a chicken in the grocery store, check first for the sell-by date to find the freshest (as with any meat). I recommend always buying fresh birds that are not frozen (check the label, as sometimes birds will be frozen for transportation and then thawed at the market before being placed for sale.) As well as you can determine through the plastic wrapping, make sure that the skin is intact and is yellowy-translucent. The skin should be a bit loose on the meat, and the meat below should be of uniform color. When you press on the breasts and the thighs, the meat should give slightly beneath your finger and feel more or less like, well, a breast. (C'mon, we all either have them or we've felt them, so you know what I'm talking about!)

When you're ready to prepare the chicken, remove the plastic wrapping and set the raw chicken on a clean plate in your sink. In a store-bought bird, the giblets (the heart, liver, and kidneys) will be in a small sealed bag within the cavity of the chicken. I haven't yet been able to stomach giblets, so I usually take a deep breath, pull out the bag and deposit it directly into the garbage. If you're feeling adventuresome, there are plenty of giblet recipes out there for you to explore--I'm saving that one for another day.

Wash the chicken by running it under hot water and running your hands firmly over the skin. Lift the chicken and run water in the cavity. Swish it around, rub the cavity with your hands, and run more water until the water coming out of the chicken runs clear. (Note: Chickens "should" be cleaned before packaging, but this is just an extra precautionary step. Don't use soap, though, as it will give your meat a soapy flavor.)

Still with the chicken in the sink, cut off any large lumps of fat you can see--especially around both openings of the chicken. Be careful not to tear or damage the skin. Pat the chicken dry with paper towels and set it on a new clean plate on your counter. Now the bird is ready to go.

Emma's Lemon Garlic Slow-Cooker Chicken

I drew this recipe together from several different recipes I had hanging around. The chicken is poached in a small amount of liquids in the slow-cooker and the resulting meat literally falls off the bone--you don't even need a knife! The flavors of garlic, lemon, thyme, and rosemary are infused throughout the meat. It's excellent eaten by itself, as a layer in sandwiches, and in any other chicken-leftover recipe you may have. The only disadvantage to poaching the chicken like this is that the skin is discarded after cooking; my next feat is to attempt roasting a chicken and getting some crispy skin!

3-4 pound chicken

for the seasoning:
3 garlic cloves--minced
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 tsp salt
2 sprigs of thyme--leaves stripped and minced

Mix all the seasoning ingredients together in a bowl. Using your fingers, gently separate the skin from the meat of the breast, thighs, and legs of the chicken. Rub half of the seasoning mixture between the skin and meat. I found that if you get a good dollop under the skin, you can lay the skin back down and use your fingers to massage the outside of the skin and work the seasoning across the surface of the meat. Rub the remaining mixture inside the cavity of the chicken.

Heat a large skillet (a wok works well) to medium-high heat and coat with non-stick cooking spray. Pan-sear the chicken on all sides for 6-8 minutes until the outside is browned. Transfer the chicken to your slow cooker--BREASTS SIDE UP.

for the baste:
3 Tbsp fresh lemon juice (about 1 lemon)--reserve the lemon rinds
2 Tbsp soy sauce
1/4 c. chicken broth
1 whole lemon--quartered
1 head of garlic--cloves separated, but left in their individual skins
2 chicken bouillon cubes
2 sprigs of thyme
2 sprigs of rosemary

Combine lemon juice, soy sauce, and chicken broth. Put the pan used to sear the chicken back on medium-high heat, pour in HALF of the lemon juice mixture and let sit until just boiling. Use a spatula to scrape up any bits of chicken stuck to the pan. Once the pan is deglazed, pour mixture over the chicken in the slow-cooker.

Put lemon rinds (reserved from squeezing the juice), 1 whole bouillon cube, and a few of the garlic cloves inside the cavity of the chicken. Arrange lemon quarters, the remaining garlic cloves, and the sprigs of thyme around the chicken toward the edges of the cooker. Crumbled the other bouillon cube over the chicken and rub it into the skin.

Place the lid on the cooker and cook on HIGH for 4 hours. (Note: This recipe is best when done on HIGH, but can also be done in 6-8 hours on LOW.)

Twenty to thirty minutes before the time is done, pour reserved lemon juice mixture over chicken and add the rosemary sprigs. (Rosemary tends to get bitter and antiseptic tasting if cooked the entire time in the slow-cooker.)

Remove chicken from the slow-cooker and allow it to rest on the carving board (or handy cookie sheet) for about 20 minutes. The meat actually continues cooking during this resting period and the juices will redistribute through the meat. When ready to serve, tear off the skin and discard. Use your fingers to pull off the legs--the bones should come apart with a gentle tug, but if they don't use a carving knife to wedge them apart. Keep using your fingers to work over the chicken, placing the meat on a serving platter and reserving the bones for another use (like home-made chicken broth!). Serve immediately!

If you don't have a slow cooker, you have a couple other options:

1. Poaching in a dutch oven: A dutch oven can very closely duplicate the slow cooker. Prepare the chicken exactly following the instructions above, but place the chicken and all ingredients in a dutch oven instead. Cover with the lid and place it on the middle rack in a COLD (not preheated) oven. Heat the oven to 300 degrees and cook for three hours or until a thermometer in the thigh meat registers 180 degrees. You can bast the chicken every 45 minutes or so.

You can also follow this recipe on Chocolate & Zucchini HERE.

2. On the stove top: If you don't have a slow cooker or a dutch oven, you can poach chicken breasts on the stove top in a skillet. I'm sure you could figure out a way to poach an entire chicken on the stove top--perhaps in a stockpot or dutch over over low heat?--but I've never done it.

Marinate the chicken breasts for 2-24 hours in the seasoning mixture from the recipe above. When ready to cook, place the breasts in a skillet or fry pan in a SINGLE layer. Cover chicken with the basting mixture and add enough additional chicken broth so that there is about 1/2 inch of liquid in the bottom--it should almost cover chicken, but the tops should still be above the liquid.

Turn on the heat to medium-high and bring liquid to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cover skillet with a fitted lid. Let it cook undisturbed for about 10 minutes, then cut into the thickest part of one of the breasts to check for doneness. If it is still raw pink, recover the pan and cook for anther 5 minutes. Repeat until all the breasts are done. (Smaller breasts may be done sooner and should be removed.)

VARIATION: For my Cross-Atlantic Portuguese-Brazilian dinner, I used the marinade from the Chez Henri recipe for Roast Chicken with Lime and Achiote HERE in place of the seasoning mixture in my recipe above. I then followed my recipe exactly, replacing the lemons in my marinade with limes. Yum!

Holiday Festivus with Emma and the Engineer

On Christmas Eve at the abode of Emma n' the Engineer and with many friends in attendance, a festivus was had and, yay verily yay, it was good. This was the first Big Production meal I have ever prepared, and I was a bit nervous. We're talking appetizers, side dishes, main dishes, vegetarian dishes, drinks, and (of course) dessert. With the day itself looming on the horizon, I suddenly realized that pulling this whole thing off was going to require some Planning and Preparation. My list-making, organization-obsessed, multi-tasking little heart was filled with glee. Keep in mind that this is the same little heart that spent whole afternoons as a child organizing and then reorganizing the desk in her room, and who looked forward to buying school supplies every Fall nearly as much as she looked forward to Christmas.

My good friend R. and I had a grand time coming up with the menu. After much trolling of the Internet and a smattering of ideas thrown back and forth, we decided on a Cross-Atlantic Portuguese-Brazilian Dinner. Here was our final menu (click on the name of the dish to link to the recipe):

DRINKS:

• Caipirinha
• Quentao
• A Portuguese or Brazilian Wine
  

STARTER/SIDES:

• Green Beans with Coriander and Garlic
• Empanadas-- vegetarian (with hearts of palm)--I came up with my own recipe for this, loosely based on THIS recipe and also THIS one, and THIS dough recipe. I'll do a separate post about the empanadas cuz they were quite an...adventure to make, shall we say.
  
• Broa (Portuguese Cornmeal Farm Bread)

MAIN:

• Portuguese Potato Dumpling Soup (with Kale)-- vegetarian
• Portuguese Style Poached Chicken (with Lime, Chili, and other South o' the Border Seasonings)--loosely based on THIS recipe.
  

DESSERTS:

• Custard Cups

Like a dufus, I had a few too many caipirinha's and "forgot" to take picture of a lot of the dishes, but here's the run down of how the food part of the night went down and a few pictures of the pictures I remembered to take.

Drinks: The caipirinhas were FIERCE. Wowzas, did they knock your socks off. It wasn't until R. was actually preparing them that we fully realized that the drink is essentially all cachaca, a Brazilian brandy made from sugar cane, with a little sugar and lime thrown in there to take the edge off. Barely. We ended up adding a good dose of Fresca (classy!) to the drinks to make them a bit more drinkable. Even so, we all agreed that caipirinhas brought back ever-so-fond memories of Spring Break beach parties.

We had the quentaos after dinner as we reclined around the living room in various states of comatose. This is a drink that I would definitely have again--the spices are very similar to mulled wine (red wine is actually an ingredient in some variations) with some of that lovely cachaca. Also like mulled wine, it's served warm and would be quite nice for a cozy winter afternoon on the couch. I imagine a mug of this would also be an excellent antidote to insomnia, or at the very least you wouldn't mind being awake at 2:00 in the morning as much after you've had a few healthy gulps.

Ironically, we ended up drinking a South African wine with dinner--Mountain River 2003 Pinotage/Shiraz, a whooping $7.99 at Trader Joe's. While I was looking for Portuguese wines, I overheard another customer asking the wine steward for recommendations for a dinner of enchiladas and other South American dishes. The wine steward recommended this wine with such a glowing review that I had to try it. The wine was a deep red and very full-bodied. It had a deep, mellow flavor with just a touch of spice that really did pair well with all the flavors in the meal, but also didn't overshadow the food. I did find one bottle of a Portuguese wine, but we didn't end up opening it at the party--did I mention that the capirinhas were FIERCE?

Starters/Sides: The green beans were nothing super special. Blanched green beans drizzled with olive oil and seasoned with garlic and coriander. The recipe says to serve these cold or room temperature after having marinated for a day, but I didn't get my act together in time and also for some reason the idea of cold green beans with this particular meal didn't feel right to me, so I served them warm. (By the way, coriander was the surprise spice of the meal for me. I've never really cooked with coriander, but really liked it in the empanadas and the soup.)

The empanadas were a big hit. I'll do a separate post on them in another day or so and describe the whole preparation process. They're essentially little pasties or turnovers--a savory filling in a pie crust. I made them the week before the party, froze them, and then baked them right before dinner. The picture here is of an empanada right before I baked them. I really wish I'd remembered to take a picture after they came out of the oven--they were all crisp and golden, the kind of food that makes your mouth water just looking at them. The crust turned out well--nice and flaky, buttery and crisp. For the filling, I used onion, plum tomatoes, hearts of palm, corn, tomato paste, and spices (cayenne, chili powder, cumin, coriander, salt). The prep work is a lot of trouble, but it was really worth it. I think my guests and I would have been happy with just a plateful of these little empanadas!

The broa was kind of a disappointment for me, I have to admit. It's a cornmeal bread, so I knew it would be pretty dense and probably wouldn't rise like a regular wheat loaf, but I imagined the bread to be moist, crumbly, and springy like southern-style cornbread. Instead the loaf was more like a hockey puck--dry and dense. Sliced thin and spread with butter, the bread was decent, but I was still let down. I'm not sure if I didn't something wrong or if this is just the way the bread was supposed to be. I did a lot of searching on the Internet and found lots of recipes but few descriptions of how the final loaf was supposed to look, feel, and taste. From the pictures I found, I think the loaf is supposed to be rather flat (like mine turned out) but not quite as dense. More like a country hearth loaf than corn bread. I could probably figure out a better loaf if I had the urge, but I'm not a huge fan of cornmeal, so this will probably remain an unsolved baking mystery. By the way, I have an entire loaf and a half frozen in my freezer, so if you're still curious to try this bread despite my description, let me know and the loafs are yours!

Main: Poaching chicken is my new favorite thing. I do it in my slow cooker and it comes out perfect every time. (OK, it's come out perfectly all two times that I've done it.) The meat is moist, flavored throughout, and literally falls off the bone. For this chicken, I prepared a marinade using THIS recipe from the Boston restaurant Chez Henri, only substituting 1 tablespoon of chili powder, 1 1/2 teaspoons of salt, 1 teaspoon of garam masala, and 1/4 tsp of cayenne in place of the achiote powder. (Achiote powder is a kind of sweet South American spice similar to chili powder--I couldn't find it in bulk at our co-op and didn't want to cough up the dough to buy a whole jar at the grocery store.) Instead of roasting the chicken as in the recipe, I poached it in the slow cooker with about a half cup of chicken broth, a few shots of soy sauce, lime juice, several whole quarters of limes, and a head of garlic with the cloves separated. Mmm, mmm, good. (P.S. I'm also planning another post on poaching whole chickens, but let me know if you want more detailed instructions before then.)

The only error in my otherwise well-timed meal prep was the time I allotted for preparing the potato dumplings for the potato dumpling soup. I plum forgot how gosh-darn long it takes for large potatoes to cook through when you're boiling them. (The thirty minutes suggested in the recipe was NOT enough for my potatoes, by the by. I probably would have been better boiling them for 45 minutes or so.) By this point in the evening, our friends were starting to arrive and I was feeling a bit frazzled. I thought I could make do with slightly undercooked potatoes, but it turns out that undercooked potatoes don't mash very well or even take very kindly to being mashed at all. Ah, well. So we ended up having Portuguese Half-Pureed, Half-Chunky Potato Soup instead. And it was delicious. The broth was light, pleasantly starchy, and well-flavored with garlic, salt, and coriander. I'm used to loading my soups up with all the veggies in my fridge, so I had to really exercise restraint on this one. I stuck with my recipe and only used onions, green onions, and kale...oh, and the potatoes, of course. I've never cooked with kale before and was at first a bit intimidated by the mounds of leafy greenness taking up half my counter space. Like spinach, I stripped the leaves from the woody stalks, rolled them lengthwise a handful at a time into a long cigar-shape, and cut cross sections about an inch thick. This gives you ribbons of kale about the length of your hand and as wide as a finger. It looks like a LOT of leafy greenness, but once you submerge it in the broth, the greens wilt down into a more reasonably-sized state. I thought the kale was a bit rubbery, like seaweed, but this was not unpleasant. It was actually very satisfying to have something with a bit of chew in every bite. The bitterness of the kale also balanced well with the relative sweetness of the broth and the onions, and the whole soup was warm and filling. (In retrospect, I think I would have cut the kale into smaller, postage-stamp-sized pieces instead of the ribbons. Pieces this size would be less cumbersome when spooning the soup into your mouth.)

Dessert: And last but not least, the custard cups. These were so good that a lot of us burned our mouths rather than wait for them to cool completely. The puff pastry made a crisp and buttery cup for the custard. (FYI, I decided to leave-off making my own puff pastry for another dining adventure, so I got a little help from my friends at Pepperidge Farm for this one.) The custard was smooth and creamy, flavored with vanilla and a hint of lemon. This was my first time making custard, and I definitely recommend THIS recipe for anyone else out there looking for something new to serve. You can also caramelize the tops under the broiler or with a brulee torch for an added bit of elegance.

Since the Engineer and I were leaving for holidays in Minnesota the day after our party, our lovely friends reaped the reward of what leftovers there were. To everyone that came to the party, we were so happy to see you and spend time with you during the holidays. And to everyone else near and far, if you ever find yourself in Boston on Christmas Eve, feel free to stop by--we'll be here cooking up something fabulous!

Rebellion in my Roasted Veggies

I'm a bread and butter kind of girl. Cooking and eating fancy meals is just dandy for special occasions, but what I'm really interested in is what people eat every day. I like to keep it simple and keep it good. Good food doesn't need to take 10 hours to prepare or call for a million ingredients or use expensive spices in order to be good. You don't even need to be a master chef in order to make it good. You just need to want it to be good.

Two years ago, I didn't know how to cook. The Engineer and I subsisted on stir-fries and rice, pasta and jar sauce, and runs to Anna's Taqueria for burritos. Then I started doing WeightWatchers. And I realized that eating well was really boring. No flavor. No feeling of being full. No satisfaction of any kind. I felt that the only choice being offered was between eating what tasted good and being 'ok' with the portly consequences or eating boring food and staying healthy-thin. I felt miserable and trapped and angry.

And that's how cooking became my rebellion. I wanted my food to be good. I wanted it to taste good and be good for me at the same time. I wanted this in a way that I felt in my gut and my heart. I absolutely did not believe that my only choice was between good-tasting food and good-for-you food. So I started to cook.

Two years later, I have a lot more confidence in the kitchen. I try new recipes as I come across them and will reincarnate recipes to my own tastes if I think the original had potential. I know where I can cut corners and use low-fat ingredients, but add a few 'regular' ingredients to bring out a good balance of flavor. And I've loosened up a lot. I'm a recovering perfectionist and it's still hard to try a new ingredient without knowing how it will taste or not feel like a failure if a recipe doesn't turn out brilliantly.

I've also worked on expanding my portfolio of "Tastes That I Like." In a recent interview with Seth Roberts on The Restaurant Guys (Click HERE to download the interview), Roberts mentions that Americans tend more and more to eat foods with the same flavors. Walk into any fast food burger joint in the US and order any burger and I guarantee that it taste pretty much like any other burger you would order anywhere. On top of that, Roberts says that people tend to eat the same basic foods with the same basic flavors over and over again--their daily diets don't change. Although Roberts didn't go into this in his interview, what this tells me is that a lot of people out there are no longer really able to recognize what tastes good; they only recognize what is familiar.

When I first started cooking, I was only able to recognize when I didn't like something that I ate--it was too bland or too over-cooked, etc.--but I couldn't identify what was missing or how to make it better. It took a lot of trial and error in order for to figure out what flavors I liked, how much of a particular flavor was good, and what flavors went together. Chefs and foodies call this 'expanding your palate.' I'm still figuring this out and have gotten more adventurous about trying new combinations of ingredients and spices (Lemon-Anise Muffin recipe coming soon!).

So, bread and butter. When I was in college, my dad sent me a post card that said, "To simplify, you have to say no." That post card has hung next to every desk I've had since and I often think about it when I'm in decision-making situations--whether that situation is what to wear in the morning, how to handle a new project, or what ingredients to add in my soup. Simplify. Keep it simple and keep it good, that's how I roll.

-----

Oven-Roasted Vegetables

small red or white potatoes (2" - 3" across)--estimate about 2 potatoes per person plus one for the cook--halved and quartered
1 large onion--cut into wedges
1 red pepper--cut into chunks
1 zucchini/eggplant/summer squash--cut into chunks
Salt to taste
Thyme, rosemary and/or oregano to taste

Note: The potatoes should be cooked separately from the other veggies. Not only do they take longer, but other veggies tend to release water as they bake, which prevents the potatoes from crisping. If baking both potatoes and veggies, put the potatoes in the oven 10-20 minutes before the other veggies so both trays will be ready at the same time.

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Potatoes: Put the potatoes into a bowl by themselves. Drizzle 1 tablespoon of olive oil over the potatoes. Add 1 teaspoon of sea salt and 1 teaspoon of dried thyme, rosemary, or oregano (or any combination of these herbs equalling about 1 tsp). If using fresh herbs, increase the amount by 1/2 to 1 tsp. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil, spray with non-stick coating, and spread potatoes over sheet. Bake for 40-50 minutes until browned and crisp, stirring occasionally to prevent the potatoes from sticking.

Other veggies: Combine the other veggies in a separate bowl, drizzle with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and add herbs. Line a second baking sheet with aluminum foil, spray with non-stick coating, and arrange veggies. Bake for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until onions are crisp at the edges and caramelized, and the other veggies are cooked through.

Combine veggies and potatoes, adjust spices to taste, and serve!

WeightWatchers: Small potatoes are about 1 point each. One tablespoon of olive oil is 3 points. If cooking with 8 potatoes and 2 tablespoons of olive oil (total--one tablespoon for each bowl), the total points for the entire mess o' veggies is about 10. In other words, this is a very WeightWatcher's friendly meal or side-dish! I usually combine about 1 cup of roasted veggies (about 1 point) and 3/4 cup of rice (3 points) for a more satisfying meal.

Enchiladas--A good use of leftover turkey

I know, I know--Thanksgiving is but a distant memory and you're on to bigger and better things by now. Unfortunately, between end-of-production-season frenzy at the Noodle Factory and Blogger being wonky on me, I've fallen a bit behind on my A-game here. Regardless, I'm sure there are some of you who still have a few morsels of dried-out turkey lurking in some forgotten container at the back of your fridge. You've had it on sandwiches. You've made soups. You've re-heated it until it can't be re-heated no more, no more. And now, not only are you sick of it, but your good Midwestern waste-not-want-not roots just won't let you throw away those last few mouthfuls that aren't even enough meat for a whole sandwich. Well, here is one last turkey left-overs resurrection for you to enjoy. If you don't have as much meat left as the recipe recommends, just throw in some veggies to fill it out. (Notes on completely vegetarian versions are at the end of the blog.)

Turkey Enchiladas

1 c. (4 oz) turkey or chicken breast--shredded or chopped into small chunks
1 jar salsa (~12 oz or so)
1 c. cheese--shredded
1 can black beans--drained and rinsed
1/2 c. non-fat plain yogurt
1 tsp chili powder (to taste)
1/2 tsp cumin (to taste)
1 tsp salt (to taste) 8 6"-flour tortillas

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Spread a thin layer of the salsa on the bottom of a 10x6 inch baking dish.

In a medium-sized bowl, mix the turkey, 1/2 cup of the cheese, the yogurt, the beans, and the spices. Taste a bit of the mixture to make sure you like the spices; add more spices if it doesn't have enough taste for you, but remember that you'll be eating this with salsa. Lay the tortillas out on a clean counter top and divide the turkey filling equally between each. You want the mound of filling to be toward the bottom third of each tortilla in a roughly rectangular shape.

Begin rolling up the tortillas. Fold the bottom (smaller) flap over the filling. Tuck in the sides. Roll the tortilla away from you until the filling is completely wrapped. (Chow.com has a great demo on the best way to roll up a tortilla for a burrito-type wrap HERE--it's toward the middle of the article.) Lay the enchilada seam-side down in your baking dish. Repeat for the rest of your enchiladas.

Pour the remaining salsa over the enchiladas, and then top with your remaining 1/2 cup of cheese. Cover with tin foil and bake about 20 minutes. Remove tin foil and bake for another 5 minutes until the cheese is completely melty and a little crispy-looking. Enjoy!

NOTES:

• I found that one jar of salsa wasn't quite enough. I recommend using one whole jar of a chunky salsa (use some in the filling and some on the top), and then about half of a jar of a thinner, sauce-like salsa to make sure you get the moisture to really drench the enchiladas. Alternatively, you could use one jar of salsa and a bit of crushed or pureed tomato.

• Any kind of salsa will do here, and whatever salsa you pick can really change the entire flavor of the dish. I used a roasted garlic salsa from Trader Joe's that was really fabulous.

• If you're a vegetarian or simply don't have any leftover turkey or chicken on hand, you can replace the meat with other veggies. Try any or all of the following: diced onions, tofu crumbles, diced quorn, corn or hominy, zucchini, mushrooms, and peppers. Even cubed and cooked squash would make a good, sweeter version!

• This is a pretty gosh darn healthy meal. If you're looking to make this more waist friendly, you can use a lot of low-fat ingredients and the end result doesn't taste at all low-fat. It really makes a difference to get a good quality salsa that you like and a good reduced-fat cheese like Sargento. I used 96% fat-free tortillas, nonfat yogurt, and a reduced-fat Sargento Mexican cheese mix. If you follow the Weight Watcher's program, the filling is about 2 points per enchilada and the tortillas I used were 1 point each--using my same ingredients, each enchilada comes out to about 3 points each. For dinner, 1 and 1/2 enchiladas really filled me up. Yay, cheese!

Pecan and Salt Caramel Cheesecake

I was willing to bring any dish to Thanksgiving dinner that my host requested, but I absolutely insisted on bringing this Pecan and Salt Caramel Cheesecake. I first saw this recipe a few months ago over at Chow.com (the recipe is HERE) and immediately knew I was going to have to make it. Luckily, there was very little resistance to adding another dessert to the menu--especially one with an ingredients list like this one.

Speaking of the ingredients, my only real worry with this recipe was that it would be a complete sugar overload. I easily envision the ingredients mingling together into one uniform 'sugar!!!' instead of retaining their individual flavors. And the verdict? It's a sweet dessert to be sure, but I was surprised and pleased to taste distinct layers to the sweetness and real depth of flavor. The sour of the cream cheese complimented the buttery caramel. The graham cracker was a nice balance to the sugar and vanilla. I think with a little more experimentation and refinement of the various steps, the caramel flavor could give the whole cake a roasted, smoky flavor that would really bring it all together.

My mom asked me how many Weight Watchers points each slice of this little doozy was and I just laughed at her. Honestly, folks, I didn't even bother to figure it out. This is just one of those occasions when you just need to relax and be a glut without guilt. Having said this, I do have a few ideas for making this cake a bit more waist-friendly (see below).

Some thoughts for improvements and future variations:

• My caramel ended up with little chunks of sugar suspended in it. They weren't rock hard, didn't pose a threat to any one's dental work, and we didn't even notice them once I added the pecans, but the perfectionist in me was disgruntled. My suspicion is that I didn't stir the butter and sugar as thoroughly as I should have (I was in a bit of a rush seeing as how the Engineer's mother was arriving in about ten minutes). I've done a bit of research on the properties of sugars and making caramel sauce since making this recipe and have decided that, as you might suspect, making caramel is a bit more tricky than this recipe would lead a gal to believe. I'm actually really intrigued by the whole process since it has to do with chemical reactions on the molecular level and all sorts of science-experiment type things. I'm planning to do some more research and experimentation, and will be sure to share my findings with y'all!

• Another caramel note: I was happy with the final flavor--it really did taste like caramel!--but I think it could have had more depth. As my pal Harold McGee says in his book On Food and Cooking, "The aroma of a simple caramelized sugar has several different notes, among them buttery and milky, fruity, flowery, sweet, rum-like, and roasted. As the reactions proceed, the taste of the mixture becomes less sweet as more of the original sugar is destroyed, with more pronounced acidity and eventually bitterness and an irritating, burning sensation." Thanks, Harold! Since my caramel could definitely be described as "buttery and milky," my suspicion is that I could have let the syrup boil for a little while longer to deepen the flavor before adding the butter and taking it off the heat.

• I love pecans, but I'm not sure they really added very much here. The Engineer suggested briefly dry-frying or roasting the pecans before adding them to the cake. This is something that is often suggested in other recipes I've come across in order to activate the oils in the nut and enhance the overall flavor. I also think that roasting the pecans would bring out similar flavors in the caramel.

• I also wondered about doing away with the pecans all together and instead sprinkling roughly crumbled graham crackers on the top. This would add a bit more crunch and bite in the mouth, would mirror the graham cracker crust (of course), and would also reduce the number of ingredients competing for precedence in your mouth. The taste of the cheesecake and caramel is complex enough, and unless the pecans are really enhancing the flavor in those components, I think they're just distracting. Again, I think graham crackers could compliment the flavors just as well if not better.

• I am curious to make a lower-fat version of this cheesecake. A recipe for New York Cheesecake in The Best Light Recipes by Cook's Illustrated suggests replacing the cream cheese with a combination of light cream cheese, drained cottage cheese, and drained low-fat yogurt. The recipe is described as definitely tasting different than regular cheesecake, but just as excellent on its own merit. I've tried several recipes from this book and have been well pleased with many of the recipes, which don't just rely on using the "Low Fat" version of a full-fat product. Worth a try anyways.

• It would also be fun to experiment with different flavors in the caramel. This could be done by either infusing the syrup while it's melting or by adding flavors to the final caramel as it's cooling. Cook's Illustrated has several mouth-watering suggestions: Orange-Espresso Caramel Sauce, Coconut Ginger Caramel Sauce, and Dark Rum Caramel Sauce, to name a few.

Some serving suggestions:

• I think that this recipe could translate really well into a finger-food, buffet-table item. My thought is to make the cheesecake as normal, but then cut out mini-cheesecakes (either in square or in circles using a biscuit cutter) that would be about an inch or so across--small enough to be eaten in one single bite. Then use a chopstick or other poking-device to dowel a little hole in the top of the cake. Fill the hole with caramel and top with one whole pecan or a fragment of graham cracker.

• Another serving option would be to make several mini-cakes in individually-portioned ramekins. This would be fun for a dinner party and would be a bit more elegant than cutting slices of cheesecake.

Ok, ok, enough jabbering. Here's the recipe itself:

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Pecan and Salt Caramel Cheesecake
Adapted from Chow.com

Crust:

1 1/4 c. graham cracker crumbs (5-6 graham cracker rectangles)
4 tbsp (1/2 stick) unsalted butter--at room temperature
3 tbsp granulated sugar

Cheesecake:

2 lbs (4 8-oz packages) cream cheese--at room temperature
1 c. granulated sugar
1 large egg yoke--at room temperature
3 whole eggs--at room temperature
1 tsp vanilla extract

Caramel Topping:

1 c. granulated sugar
4 tbsp (1/2 stick) unsalted butter--at room temperature
1/2 c. heavy cream--at room temperature
1 c. roughly chopped pecans
1 large pinch sea salt

To begin:

Place all ingredients (included refrigerated ingredients) on workspace. Allow refrigerated ingredients to come to room temperature. The butter should be soft and malleable. Eggs can also be placed in a bowl of hot water to bring them to room temperature.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

To make the crust:

To make graham cracker crumbs, break several squares of graham crackers into rough pieces in a bowl. Use the bottom of a cup or a pestle to grind the crackers into uniform-sized crumbs. This was one of the most satisfying parts of the process--I may start crumbling graham crackers for stress relief. Mix sugar into the crumbs. Mix in the butter with your hands, squeezing gobs of butter together with the crumbs with your fingers, until thoroughly combined. Press into the bottom of a 9- to 10-inch spring form pan. (If you don't have a spring form pan and want to make this cake in a regular pie dish, make sure to use a deep dish pan at least 2.5 inches deep. There's lots of toppings that go on this and the cheesecake with rise quite a bit in the oven!)

To make the cheesecake:

In the bowl of a stand mixer (or medium-sized bowl if using hand mixers), roughly combine sugar and cream cheese with a spoon. Once the sugar is adhered to the cream cheese, beat with a mixer until light and smooth--about the consistency of ganache frosting. Add the eggs one at a time, mixing until the egg is completely blended in (but be careful of over-mixing; the egg should just be barely blended so you can no longer see strings of the yellow yoke). Add vanilla extract and mix.

Pour mixture into the spring form pan on top of the graham cracker crust. Bake until a toothpick or a cake tester comes out clean and the center is set. The Chow.com instructions say this will take about 40 minutes, but mine ended up taking about 55 minutes, so just monitor your cake carefully. It will rise significantly in the pan and turn a deep golden color around the edges. It will also likely crack along the top--this is not so desirable in normal cheesecake, but fine for this one--just more nooks and crannies for the caramel!

Let the cheesecake cool completely on a cooling rack with the spring form still attached to the base. As it cools, the cheesecake will sink a bit into itself. Ultimately, the sides will be sloped slightly higher than the middle.

For the caramel:

Combine the sugar and 1 tablespoon of water in a small saucepan and stir until you make a thick sugar paste. Place over medium-high heat and bring to a boil. At this point, the Chow.com recipe says to allow the mixture to boil until it is amber in color. While this is true, I think it's a bit misleading about what you should expect.
In this first picture (left), the sugar/water paste has just come to a boil. It looks a bit shiny, but is still a grey color. This will boil furiously for a few minutes without changing color and the boiling will slowly begin to stop. In my first batch of caramel, I kinda panicked at this point and assumed that I had done something wrong since it wasn't changing colors. I stirred it a bit, and the mixture started to reform itself into granules of sugar (the middle image). I waited for a while longer and noticed that the sugar on the bottom was melting again, and the re-melted sugar was indeed turning an amber color. However, the sugar was really clumping together and looking more like rock candy than sauce, so I dumped it into a pan to cool (far right picture) and started over again.

My recommendation is DON'T STIR the mixture--a crust will form on the top and you'll see it pushing and dipping here and there as the sugar melts into a liquid again. Eventually (in about 5 minutes or so), the crust will melt as well and you can stir it a bit. I wasn't sure exactly what constituted an 'amber' color, so I erred on the side of caution and called it good when the sugar was about the color of browned butter.

Add the butter to the pan, and be careful because the mixture will pop and bubble and generally behave like a spoiled brat of a sauce. Stir until the butter is completely combined with the sugar. Remove from heat and add the cream in two batches. Again, the mixture will boil and bubble, toil and trouble, for a bit. Keep stirring until everything is well combined and the caramel is a milky tan color. As you stir and the sauce cools, it will thicken slightly into a more familiar caramel consistency. The milk and butter also stabilizes the caramel, so it won't harden into rock-candy and will stay a thick syrup.

When the caramel has cooled to room temperature (you should be able to dip your finger in for a taste test), pour it over the cheese cake. Sprinkle a few pinches of sea salt over the top and then sprinkle on the pecans.

Once the bottom of the pan is cool enough that you can touch it with your bare hands, cover and let the entire cake cool in the fridge. The longer it sits, the more the caramel will absorb into the nooks and crannies of the cheesecake. If you like this effect, let it sit for a few hours (for instance, while you're eating turkey n' stuffing). If you like your cake pristine and the layers separated, serve it a bit sooner.

Il Lasagna Perfetto

You should all know by now that I love to cook. No doubt about it. But what I do not love is cooking every day. In fact, if I have to cook two days in a row, I get a bit cranky and start taking out my frustrations on the unsuspecting Engineer by muttering things under my breath like, "Though I may look and occasionally act like a 1940's housewife, I am not a 1940's housewife, mister." * He usually grins and says, "Pizza, then? Where are my keys?"

This is why I love love L-O-V-E love making humungoid meals one or two times a week that will feed us both for lunch and dinner over several days. Luckily, the Engineer and I are both fairly monogastronomic (yes, I made up that word) and don't require a lot of variety in our diet to keep us satisfied. Throw in a few meals of eggs n' toast and a coupla stir fries and we're happy clams.

Whenever I come across a new recipe that I think has potential for deliciousness, I immediately begin to consider of two things: 1) How can I double or triple the amount of servings in this Bad Larry, and 2) How can I make it healthier? (The answer to both questions, by the way, is usually "add more vegetables." Just don't forget to adjust the spices.) I typically follow the recipe exactly one time and then modify on subsequent repetitions.

I've been working on my lasagna for about two years now--how's that for tenacious? My family was staying in a rented cabin tucked into the woods somewhere near Lake Superior--a winter vacation tradition in my family. The cabin came equipped with hand sewn quilts, a gorgeous view of one of Minnesota's 10,000 lakes, and a little kitchen of its own. After we were settled into our various cozy nooks, my mother started making "I'm-cooking-who-wants-to-help?" noises in the kitchen and organizing the various ingredients for lasagna. Lasagna was a regular meal in our house--in fact I think it was my all-time-favorite food for a good chunk of elementary school, much to my mother's delight and disbelief. But this was the first time I consciously helped my mother make lasagna and recognized it as a meal that I could replicate for myself. It was a light bulb kind of moment.

At this time, my mother had been on WeightWatchers for a few years, but I hadn't yet started. As we got everything together, my mom explained the various substitutions she made to make the lasagna WeightWatcher's friendly: substituting lo-fat cottage cheese for ricotta, using only 10 lasagna noodles over two layers, fattening up those layers with lots of veggies, and using a tomato sauce like Healthy Choice. I was intrigued, if skeptical, and was incredibly surprised at how fabulous it turned out. This lasagna did not taste like the lo-cal, limp, healthy-shmealthy dish I was expecting, and I was very relieved to see that the servings were much larger than a postage stamp. Mom's technique of using dry lasagna noodles in the layers rendered noodles that were al dente and richly flavored with absorbed tomato juice. Every bite was full of perfectly cooked vegetables, a bit of meat, a bit of noodle, and a bit of cheese--chewy and moist and perfect.

When I went on WeightWatchers myself a little over a year ago, I made Mom's recipe for lasagna often, but somehow it wasn't quite as good as I remembered it. And although it was already significantly healthier than regular lasagna, I still grumbled about how much of my daily food allowance a slice would use up. Did I really need to use tomato sauce, or would crushed tomatoes work just as well? Did I need to use a whole pound of hamburger, or could a smaller amount still give that same meaty flavor and chew in every bite? To the kitchen I scurried.

I didn't go completely bananas and make 10 batches of lasagna in a weekend, but I kept notes on each batch I made and tried new little tweaks and twiddles each time. Crushed tomatoes does indeed make a good substitute for tomato sauce, though the flavor was a bit metallic and acidic until Mom suggested sprinkling just a touch of sugar over each layer of tomatoes. You don't taste the sugar specifically in the finished lasagna, but the metallic flavor was gone. Turns out that you can also get away with less meat (or meat-substitute if you're a veggie)--about 3/4 of a pound was good, and if you were really gung ho, you could happy reduce that further or even cut the meat out all together. Just veggies makes a terrific lasagna on its own. I also tried using non-fat ricotta cheese and decided that I liked that traditional Italian flavor and mouthfeel. These three changes, along with experiments on spices and amounts of spices, has given me a purty darn near perfect lasagna, which I've now happily eaten for two weeks straight. But hey, that's monogastronomic ol' me.
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Il Lasagna Perfetto

10 dry lasagna noodles (not 'no boil')
1/2 - 3/4 lb of ground lean turkey, lean beef, or meat substitute (optional)--cooked
1 28-oz can crushed tomatoes
2 1/2 tsp sugar
1 onion--diced
1 small eggplant, zucchini, or summer squash--diced
1 red bell pepper--diced
1 pkg baby bella mushrooms or portabella mushrooms--diced
1 c. non-fat ricotta cheese
1/2 c. low-fat cottage cheese
2 c. low-fat shredded cheese
1 tsp sea salt
1 tsp chili powder
1 tsp dried basil
1 tsp dried thyme
1/8 cup of water or chicken broth

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

1. Mix all the chopped vegetables together in a large bowl and combine with all the spices. Taste a piece of eggplant or mushroom and adjust the spices if necessary--the mix should actually taste a bit too salty at this point.

2. Combine ricotta and cottage cheese together in a small bowl

3. In a 9x13 casserole dish or baking pan, spread a light layer of crushed tomatoes and sprinkle 1/2 tsp of the sugar over the top. Arrange a layer of 5 noodles--in my pan, I can fit 4 noodles length-wise and then have to break off about one inch on the fifth to fit it in along the side.

4. Spread half of the ricotta-cottage cheese mixture over the noodles. Then spread half of the veggies and half of the meat. Finally layer on about 1 cup of cheese and half the can of crushed tomatoes. Sprinkle 1 tsp of sugar over the tomatoes.

5. Add another layer of noodles and repeat step 4. Reserve a bit of cheese for the topping.

6. Swish the water or chicken broth (I prefer stock) in the empty can of tomatoes and dribble evenly over the top of the lasagna.

7. Cover the lasagna with a double layer of tinfoil and bake for 1 hour. After an hour, check the to see how done the noodles are and the onions are. I usually need to bake it covered for another 15 minutes. When the onions taste just a bit under done, uncover the lasagna and top with the reserved cheese. Bake uncovered for another 10-15 minutes or until the cheese is completely melted and a bit brown.

Let the lasagna cool for about 10 minutes and then cut into 12 portions.

WeightWatchers: If you made any substitutions or adjustments, I recommend tallying everything up for yourself to be on the safe side. Made with the above ingredients,12 portions is about 4.5 points per portion. If you're being really strict, you can cut it into 16 portions for about 3.25 points each, but, honestly, those portions are a bit measly--ok for lunch, but probably not enough for dinner unless you were also eating a side dish.

*For the record, I would like to state that while I definitely do the lion's share of the cooking in our household, the Engineer is always a willing and able sous chef. I admit to having tendencies toward control-freak-ism and have been known to hyperventilate if the onions are not diced to proper proportions. I'm much better than I used to be, mostly because I was came to realize that I needed to chill out or my sous chef would not be quite so willing and able. Still, we find it works best to divide tasks by type: I'm in charge of cutting and stir frying, and the Engineer is in charge of the pilaf; I'm in charge of toast and the Engineer is in charge of scrambling the eggs; and so on. *shrug* It works for us.