I started watching HBO's Big Love in secret during the day with the office door shut or late at night when I couldn't sleep. Eventually Bob found out and against his better judgment joined me. We came out of the closet a few years ago and now watch without shame. The writers are excellent, keep the plot moving along at a rapid pace, and develop the characters allowing them to grow with the twists and turns of the story. Even though the subject matter can make a viewer uneasy, production details (i.e., wardrobe, hair/make-up, set design) create a believable environment and a realistic story line. One detail I  enjoy is the music chosen to play behind the introduction, during the episode, and especially at the end when the closing credits roll.

This year the show has become a real pot boiler. A recent episode involved the characters in murder, dismembering, incest, kidnapping, and, of course, polygamy. Big Love has no commercials, so there isn't time to take a breath, look around, and get your bearings. After the pulp fiction-like action in the "Under One Roof" episode, the music played during the closing credits was startling: a sweet Gospel song—something about something on a hilltop sung by a voice unmistakably Elvis. First thing the next morning I opened ITunes, searched for Elvis and sure enough there it was, Mansion Over the Hilltop. As one web thread leads to another, I soon was reading about Elvis's beginnings in Gospel music, and the start of his career.

I was fourteen in 1956 when Elvis played at the Sioux City Auditorium. The whole notion of being a "teenager" was still new: there was being a kid, waiting to be an adult, and being an adult. No age definition or marketing segment separated us as a pack. There were no self-help books or columnists to advise parents about the "teenage years". There were, however, the first glimmers of something different, something special, and something apart.  "Elvis Presley , more than anyone else, gave the young a belief in themselves as a distinct and somehow unified generation—the first in America ever to feel the power of an integrated youth culture. " The Memphis, pre-Las Vegas, pre-sequined Elvis looked dangerous, dressed in black, and wore a greaser's DA, combed back with a forehead lock that refused to stay in place. In 1952, Midwestern jukeboxes played Patti Page, Eddie Fisher, Frank Sinatra, Frankie Laine, and Rosemary Clooney. Only four years later, those icons were being nudged out by Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Fats Domino, and Elvis.

My parents were born, educated, and married in South Dakota but didn't seem locked within the limitations defined by their Midwestern upbringing. Muth read books, smoked cigarettes, and played her records loud. Daddy was a Mason, smoked a pipe, and played Donkey Baseball in the summer. Those faint traces of being out of place came to my aid when Elvis surfaced in Iowa. Most of my girlfriends were forbidden to go see him, but my Dad dropped me off in front of the auditorium and said, "Have fun!".

And fun we had—there was screaming, there was moaning, there was bawling. When Elvis began to play A Whole Lot of Shakin', the roof blew right off. My friend and I had cheap seats—top row in the balcony miles away from the stage but the power of his personality brought us right down into the action. Two hours later, or it may have been two minutes or two days, he was gone. He came back for three encores but wouldn't come out again. I'm not kidding—the next thing we heard was, "Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis has left the building."

Happiness can be found in small victories—at 67 I won't be crowned Miss Nebraska, can't compete in the figure skating finals, and will never win the Booker Prize....but  six months after surgery I am back riding the Lifecycle for twenty-four minutes at my highest level. I'm sure that takes your breath away, but it was a hard-won, if small, victory. To make the day even more exhilarating, how's about this... I can now see the back of the freezer.

What's left?: one loaf of Dave's Killer Bread, one package of frozen corn, a pork shoulder roast, three freezer bags of walnuts, one-half bag of frozen shrimp, and best of all, we do have ice cube trays. Getting to this goal, however, did require sacrifice over the weekend. We had pea & cheese salad, weenies with flat bread, soup made from cabbage, peas, leftover chicken, and a reddish creamy sauce, and barley/wild rice/and Italian sausage.

Next up—a trip to Costco to stock up the freezer with unidentifiable items. Just kidding, I am dedicated to maintaining a spare freezer and leaving plenty of room for future toast.

That pea salad wasn't half bad—here's an approximate outline.

By the way, yesterday when I was browsing through mean things the critics were saying about Sunday night's Oscars, I read a funny blog entry by Ken Levine. I had to read the biography page to make certain, but sure enough—he's our Ken Levine. If you're an old Mariner fan, you must remember Dave Niehaus's color guy during the early 90's. Anyways, Ken is a television writer—Cheers, Somebody Loves Raymond, etc.—who covered the Cubs, Orioles, and now hosts an after-the-game radio show in LA about the Dodgers. If you scroll down the left side of my blog, there's a link to his page. Some witty remarks from an old favorite.

Pea, parm, and pork salad 

2 cups thawed, slightly cooked green peas
1/4 cup fine diced red onion or 2 Tbs. minced shallot
1/4 cup celery, fine dice
Fresh dill, fennel leaf, or mint are a plus
1 part mayonnaise
1 part plain yogurt
Few squirts of lemon juice
Big pinch of minced garlic
A spoonful of minced preserved lemon grated lemon zest

1-2 pieces bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled
Parmesan cheese

Combine peas, onions, and celery, and the pluses in a bowl.

Mix mayo, yogurt, lemon juice, garlic, and preserved lemon or lemon zest. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Pour dressing over pea/onion/celery mix. Fold in bacon and Parmesan cheese.

This would also be good with pasta or rice.

The blooming plum trees are dancing down the street. Before long, they'll be leaving pink shadows on the ground, but for now we see clouds of pink out the window.

Last night we had English muffins from the corner of the freezer with Swiss cheese, love those easy ones. Today Mark Bittman (The Minimalist) checked in with a wonderful yakisoba recipe. Luckily, I found a bit of freezer pork—not pork chops, must be either ground pork or pork sausage.

The below recipe is one of those take-your-pick of whatever happens to surface when you stand in front of the open refrigerator door and wonder, what’s for dinner. No Chinese noodles?—vermicelli or linguini fill the bill. No pork chop?—how about leftover pork roast, a bit of chicken, tofu, beef trimmings, freezer shrimp, eggplant, or zucchini. No Napa or savoy?—plain ol’ green or red cabbage will do. No mirin?—rice, white, cider vinegar taste about the same. No green onions?—add regular onions with the carrots & cabbage, who’ll know?

Substitute away, but don’t leave out the ketchup. Yakisoba screams for ketchup.

Yakisoba with pork and cabbage

·          6 ounces dried Chinese egg noodles, or 10 to 12 ounces fresh

·          1 tablespoon sesame oil

·          3 tablespoons peanut oil

·          2 tablespoons minced ginger
(I added 1 Tbs. minced garlic)

·          2 pork chops, thinly sliced

(I used one small patty of ground pork)
·          1 small head Napa or savoy cabbage, shredded
(I used green cabbage)

·          2 carrots, shredded

·          2 tablespoons ketchup

·          1/4 cup soy sauce

·          1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
( I used 3 Tbs.)

·          2 tablespoons mirin, or a bit of sugar

·          Few drops Tabasco sauce, or to taste

·          1 bunch scallions, chopped
(I sauteed 1/2 minced onion with the garlic at the beginning)

1. Bring a pot of water to a boil, salt it and add noodles. Cook until just done, about 3 minutes. Drain in a colander and run under cold water. Toss noodles with sesame oil to keep them from sticking together, and set aside. (I added 1 Tbs. coconut milk when I tossed).

2. Put peanut oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. When it’s hot, add ginger (and garlic) and cook, stirring, until just fragrant, about 1 minute. Add pork and cook for about 5 minutes or until it is no longer pink and starts to brown around the edges.

3. Add cabbage and carrots to skillet and stir; sprinkle with salt. Continue to cook until vegetables soften, adding a bit of water as needed to keep them from sticking.

4. Meanwhile, stir together in a small bowl ketchup, soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce, mirin and Tabasco. When vegetables are soft and any liquid has evaporated, add noodles and sauce to skillet. Toss to coat everything well and cook until noodles are warmed through. Serve, topped with chopped scallions.

Today, February 21, is Johnny Cash's birthday and NPR broadcast an old Terry Gross interview with him that played this song.

We may have fallen off the meat wagon but we’re still trying to stay on the high road by eating less meat. Our small-in-size but large-in-carbon footprint corned beef has lasted for four meals. One carrot/cabbage/potato with corned beef, one Reuben sandwich with salad, one-half Reuben sandwich with white bean/beet salad, and one Red Flannel Hash. Bob looked a bit dubious when the answer to his usual 4:00 pm inquiry, “What’s for dinner?” was “Red flannel hash”.

My mom used to make it; I made it at Sound Food, after the obligatory St. Patty’s Day corned beef and beer special ran its course. Served with a poached egg on top—to dip the edge of rye toast in (now that we have a toaster)—it ranks right up there on the list of good diner food. The color is off-putting, definitely reddish, maybe pinkish-gray but at least it doesn’t turn out blue. When I previously made hash, I used a cast iron skillet. This time I used a non-stick Calphalon and didn't get any crustiness. The hash tasted the same but I missed the crunchy bottom.

Moving right along with "Freezer Adventures", tonight featured a strange mix. Secret freezer ingredients included one small chicken andouille sausage, some unidentified tomato stuff, and some grayish clear pasta—presumably glass rice noodles left over from the January Korean extravaganza. Gumbo jumped to mind, so gumbo is was, over those glass noodles instead of rice. When I bought the noodles from Boh Han, there were no instructions in English so I didn't know what to expect. I covered them with boiling water and waited for them to soften—they mushed instead into a mass. Tonight I covered the noodles with cold water, waited a short time, then drained and added them to the gumbo at the end. They mushed in the gumbo but at least they retained their shape until we ate. Not a dish I'd recommend, so I'll skip that one; but the white bean and beet salad is tasty.

Red Flannel Hash

• 2 red-skinned potatoes
• 2 peeled carrots, large dice
• 2 small peeled beets
• Some corned beef 

• 1 bacon slice, chopped
• 1/2 cup chopped onion
• 1/2 teaspoon pepper  

• 2 eggs

Toss beets with a small amount of oil, salt, and black pepper and roast in a 425-degree oven for 60 minutes.  Chop potatoes and carrots in small-medium pieces. Toss with oil, salt/pepper and roast in the same oven for 45 minutes. Cool beets until you can handle them, then slip skins off and chop into small-medium pieces. 

Cook bacon in heavy large skillet over medium heat until brown but not crisp. Drain all bacon grease but 2 Tbs.

Sauté onion with bacon until translucent, add potatoes, carrots, and beets to onions in the skillet. Flatten with spatula to compact. Cook hash until brown on bottom, about 10 minutes. Continue cooking until heated through, stirring up bottom crust occasionally, about 15 minutes.

Crack eggs on top of hash, cover with lid and cook until whites are solid. Serve with a piece of toast.


White bean and marinated beet salad

 For the beets:

Toss whole beets with small amount of olive oil, minced garlic, salt, and pepper. Place in a aluminum foil pouch and roast in 425 degree oven for 45 minutes. Let beets cool, slip off skins, and cut in wedges. Combine vinegar, the sugar. Toss with the beets. Arrange the beans on a plate or in a bowl and surround with the beets

Place the beans in a pot. Cover by 2 inches with water, and bring to a gentle boil. Skim off any foam, and add the onion, garlic and bay leaf. Turn the heat to low, cover and simmer until tender. Add salt to taste, and simmer an additional 10 minutes. Remove from the heat. Remove and discard the onion, garlic cloves and the bay leaf. Allow the beans to cool in the liquid, then drain through a strainer set over a bowl.

Gently toss the beans in a bowl with the lemon juice, olive oil, celery, peppers, onion and herbs. If desired, add 2 to 4 tablespoons of the bean broth. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Set aside.

Either combine beets and beans for that pinkish look or separate them on the plate and garnish will chopped dill.

Last night we fell off the wagon onto a pile of sliced marinated flank steak. If Mark Bittman is watching, food still matters, but the ongoing toaster saga has created a lapse in our responsible eating.

Now that we have the appropriate small appliance, we’ve developed a strong liking for Dave’s Killer Bread toast every morning. Finding a spot in our packed refrigerator freezer for the obligatory two-loaf minimum from Costco poses a dilemma. Soooo, the challenge is to cook only from the freezer until I can see the back. I’ll use up what’s in there and buy only the essentials—milk, yogurt, sparkles, Diet Coke. Who knows what I’ll find?

I’m afraid the flank steak has been in the freezer since this summer when Bob’s brother Tom hosted a family affair to celebrate Brother Dick’s visit from Brazil. Once again, the Costco purchase could have fed thirty, so I tucked the leftover flank steaks into a back corner of the freezer. Wednesday night, I liberated the last one, marinated it overnight, and grilled it on the balcony grill. Paired with coleslaw, (dressing found in the refrigerator door, also left from long ago), and roasted sweet potatoes, it made me glad I’m not a vegetarian.

The video may be a bit of a stretch, but it's especially for woldhagen.


Steak Marinade

·                      ½ c. olive oil

·                      3 T. red wine vinegar

·                      2/3 c. soy sauce

·                      3 Tbs. Worcestershire sauce

·                      1 T. dry mustard

·                      1 T. Tabasco

·                      1 T. minced garlic

·                      1 tsp. black pepper     

Marinate flank steaks, skirt steaks, rib eye, or sirloin overnight for a savory barbeque.

Serve as a sandwich on flat bread with gorgonzola cheese and horseradish mustard.

Horseradish/Mustard:

·                      1 c. stone-ground mustard

·                      3 T. horseradish

Old-fashioned Coleslaw

Dressing:

·                      1 cup vinegar

·                      1 cup sugar

·                      1 teaspoon mustard seeds

·                      1 teaspoon celery seeds

·                      salt, to taste

·                      Mayonnaise

Salad:

·                      1 head cabbage, finely shredded

·                      2 carrots, grated

In a medium saucepan, combine vinegar, sugar, and salt, to taste. Bring to a boil and continue cooking until sugar is dissolved. Cool and mix with an equal amount of mayonnaise.

Oven roasted sweet potato wedges

• Americans eat twice as much meat as the world average and 10 times as much as developing countries.
• To produce one calorie of beef protein requires 40 calories of fossil fuel; to produce one calorie of corn takes 2.2 calories
• Each cow on the planet consumes seven barrels of crude oil
• A steak dinner for four is equivalent, energy-wise, to driving around in an SUV for three hours while leaving the lights on at home
• A 12-oz can of diet soda requires 2,200 calories to produce
• A 1-qt. polyethylene bottle requires more than 2,400 calories to produce

His rules are simple:

• Eat plants first
• Avoid anything with more than five ingredients
• Eat locally when possible
• Embrace olive oil
• Cook at home

Anyways, unlike other books about how we eat, Food Matters made sense to me and I'll try to incorporate some of Mr. Bittman's suggestions in my everyday life. Here are a few recipes to that end: the first is from his book, Food Matters, the other two are from me.

Sorry to slip back into the 80's, but I just watched this again after sooo many years and couldn't help myself. Oh to see Ray Charles again!

Mark Bittman's "Anything goes" Granola

5 cups rolled oats (not quick-cooking or instant) or other rolled grains (i.e., wheat, rye)
3 cups mixed nuts and seeds (i.e., sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, flax seeds, sesame seeds, chopped walnuts, pecans, almonds, cashews)
1 cup shredded unsweetened coconut
1 tsp. ground cinnamon, or other spices to taste (i.e., cardamom, allspice, coriander, nutmeg, ginger)
1/2 to 1 cup honey, agave, or maple syrup
Pinch of alt
1 tsp. vanilla
1 to 1 1/2 cups raisins or dried fruit (i.e., dates, cranberries, cherries, blueberries, apricots, pineapple, crystallized ginger, or banana chips)

Heat oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, combine the oats, nuts and seeds, coconut, sweetener, and vanilla; sprinkle with salt. Spread the mixture on a rimmed baking sheet and bake for 30 minutes or a little longer stirring occasionally. The granola should brown evenly; the darker it gets without burning, the crunchier it will be.

Remove pan from oven and add raisins or dried fruit. Cool on a rack, stirring now and then until granola reaches room temperature. Put in a sealed container and store in the refrigerator; it will keep indefinitely.

Black beans, sweet potatoes and brown rice

2 Tbs. sun-dried tomatoes in oil, minced
1/2 Serrano, fine dice
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 onion, fine dice
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1/2  tsp. smoked paprika
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
2 Tbs. lime juice
1 tsp. Tabasco
1 cup steamed, cubed sweet potatoes
1 cup cooked black beans
1 cup cooked brown rice

Saute sun-dried tomatoes, serranos, garlic, and onion over medium heat until onions are translucent. Add oregano, paprika and cumin, sauté to roast spices. Add 1 Tbs. lime juice and cook until juice has disappeared. Add Tabasco.

Season black beans, sweet potatoes and brown rice with salt and pepper. Toss together: sun-dried tomato/onion/spice mix, cooked black beans, sweet potatoes and brown rice.  Taste and add more lime juice, Tabasco, or salt if necessary. Garnish with Cotija or Parmesan cheese and plain yogurt.

Spicy Chickpea Stew (Chana Masala)

• 4 Tbs. oil
• ½ tsp. mustard seeds
• ½ tsp. cumin seeds
• Fenugreek
• 1 minced jalapeno
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 1 Tbs. minced garlic
• 1 Tbs. ginger
• ¼ tsp. ground cumin
• ¼ tsp. ground coriander
• ¼ tsp. turmeric
• ¼ tsp. ground paprika
• 4 large tomatoes, chopped
• ¼ cup chopped cilantro
• ½ tsp. salt
• 2 cans (16 oz each) chickpeas
• 1 cup chicken stock

Heat oil; add mustard, cumin, and fenugreek seeds. Cover pot and heat until mustard seeds complete their popping sounds. Add chili pepper and roast in hot oil.

Add onions, garlic, ginger, lower heat to medium and stir well. Add cumin, coriander turmeric, and paprika. Stir well—add small amount of water if spices threaten to burn.

Add tomatoes and cilantro stems, stirring well. Reduce tomatoes and onions to a thick paste. Season with salt. Stir constantly.
When mixture is thick, add chickpeas and stock. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to low; cover, and simmer 30-40 minutes.

Garnish with chopped cilantro—serve with rice and yogurt.

Last week we made room for a toaster. During my "old-is-better" phase, we stood guard over one after another old-but-charming toasters that refused to give up toast without manual prodding. The latest Eugene heavyweight was deemed not "counter-worthy" for our move to Tacoma, so we gave up the toast. Not a bad thing—fewer carbs, more counter space, and a quicker, smoke-free breakfast. Enter our friend Foster's turnaround to better health. During our San Diego visit this fall, he made us a dandy piece of Ezekiel toast, made from whole grains and whole beans.

Once home, we found a loaf during a routine trip to Trader Joe's. Now TJs is on the other side of town, Ezekiel bread sells for $5.00 a loaf and is literally hard to swallow without a liberal spread of butter and a beverage. During a Costco run we found a loaf of Dave's Killer Bread, hands down delicious, full of seeds, and best of all—two loaves for $7.00. A much better bargain, given the lengthy drive across town. However, heating up the oven's "Broil" function, toasting the bread, and turning on the fans to remove incidental smoke created by forgotten bread offset any energy saved. Thus came, during our next Costco trip, the purchase of a faux-stainless steel toaster—light, small in size, and remarkably inexpensive.

Fitting the new 12" appliance into our 800+ square feet condominium threatened to undo our orderly existence. Where to plug it in: all two kitchen outlets were full, the living room and bedroom seemed inefficient, and the one bathroom outlet sprouted three cords. Obviously, we'd have to move. Given the current condo market in Tacoma, that option was even less efficient than our electrical setup. So...if I use up the yellow lentils, toss out old pasta, shift the Basmatti rice into baggies, throw away the old Cook's Illustrated magazines, move the small white bowl onto the flour container, and put the orange bowl away there's plenty of room for the new toaster. If that is, we move the refrigerator out (which means taking the chrome shelf apart, which means taking all the food off the chrome shelf), put in a triple plug outlet, and string an extension cord to the 12 inches!! provided by Hamilton Beach, we have lift off. The puzzle we call home has been adjusted to include toast.

Being bakerly challenged, I can't imagine wanting to bake Ezekiel-type bread, but for anyone who does: (http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Ezekiel-Bread-I/Detail.aspx)

In a recent  Wall Street Journal article, David Chang and Anthony Bourdain "... emphatically agreed that if you’re over 30 and are just walking into a restaurant kitchen for the first time, you’re too old." In fact, they used the word "grandpa".

My parents were both college-educated and assumed that their daughters would follow suit and find work in a white collar field—for women of those years that meant teaching or nursing. By my third year in college as an English major, I wanted out—I loved reading and writing but teaching!? I gratefully married.

I was thirty-two when I started cooking in a restaurant and sure enough, I was older than anyone on the staff. I walked in to Sound Food because I needed a job and on Vashon Island in the 1970s, my choices were limited: I could sand skiis, press apple juice or work in the nursing home. I knew nothing about restaurants: seldom ate in one, knew no one who owned one, never thought about spending twenty years working in one. But within a few weeks of my starting day, I felt as if I'd come home.

In 1982 when Bob took a job in Los Angeles and moved south, I somewhat reluctantly followed. I loved Sound Food, considered the back kitchen to be my home and the staff to be my family. In 1982 as I walked up and down the side streets in Westwood looking for a job, I didn't realize how different these new restaurant experiences would be. Sound Food was always busy, had a large staff, and made almost everything in-house but LA restaurants were run by business men, staffed by competitive professionals, and filled with critical eaters.

The stakes had changed; what had not changed, was my age. Once again, I was the oldest person there—not only the oldest, but often the only female. But I had no career-directed agenda and posed no threat to the pecking order—I just needed a job. I quickly learned to keep my head down, my knives sharp, and work as hard or harder than anyone else. Eventually, I could have run any one of the kitchens I worked in. But then again, so could any hard-working dishwasher or ambitious prep cook. Due to the frequent swinging door exits of CIA-trained cooks, anyone who remained working long enough to learn the system, the management, and the menu could rise like tiny bubbles to the top of the glass.

At the end of the shift when the kitchen staff headed out the back door, I was the only one who didn't participate in "beer bowling" (chug one at the end of each frame), salsa dancing, the hot dog line at "Pinks", or an old-fashioned,  LA-style carousing. Restaurant workers have a storied, well-documented ability to drink as hard as they work. How they got to work vertically the next morning was always a mystery to me. Anyways, I managed to work as hard and as long as the twenty/thirty year-olds, due in large part to my after work recovery period—quiet and at home.

Eventually gravity, bone loss, and common sense led me to turn in my kitchen towels. In memory of those over the hill years, here's an old, dated, but still worthwhile recipe from the 1953 edition of the Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook.

Hungarian Goulash

2 pounds beef chuck, cut in 1 1/2" cubes
1 cup chopped onion
1/3 cup fat
1 Tbs. flour
1 1/2 tsp. salt
1 Tbs. paprika
1 eight-ounce can tomato sauce
1 #2 can (2 1/2 cups) diced tomatoes
1 clove garlic, minced
1 Bouquet garni

Brown beef in hot fat; add onion and cook until golden but not brown. Stir in flour, salt, and paprika.

Add remaining ingredients. Simmer gently, covered, until meat is tender, about 1 1/2-2 hours.

Remove Bouquet Garni. Serve goulash with hot noodles.