Da Count-Da Sous Chef

Yesterday I told you how I made Fry bake for everyone.  Well, the next day, as planned and at Calypso's request, I cooked the community meal for all the interns and staff (15 people).  The menu request was curried venison stew and roti, with sides of rice and peas & carrots.  I could have managed everything myself except the roti.  To get that much done requires two people just to keep the rhythm of rolling and frying.  My assistant was this fine young man.  He joined me early and asked how he could begin helping so as I was forming dough balls for the roti I asked him to cut up the venison.  He began immediately.  

Shortly thereafter someone came in and expressed shock that he was handling raw meat due to his veganism.  I felt kind of bad but he said he really didn't mind at all.  I decided I needed to add some sort of vegan dish to the meal so he wasn't eating just rice, roti, and peas & carrots.  It wouldn't be right for him to help me all afternoon and then not get a decent meal.  I thought I'd make curried potatoes and chickpeas so he went of in search of spuds and beans.  No luck on spuds anywhere on camp property and given that they are over 30 miles from a decent store it wasn't going to happen.  We scoured cupboards for other ingredients and I wound up improvising a curried bean and tomato dish with what was on hand.  It turned out decently.  

We had some really excellent conversation as we got the meal together.  I found him to be a very humble, intelligent, thinking young man with a great sense of humor and service.  All that was a delight but as we talked he shared some of the details of his life as a foster child and how he found family after he had given up at the age of 20 (Out of respect for his privacy it's not my place to share but really, it's a story that would make the hardest heart tear up first in sadness then in happiness at the new beginning.  I thanked him for his openness and trust.).  He shared about the joys of finally finding the family he never had and the struggles of learning how to be a part of it and his perspectives on his peers who seem in such a hurry to leave the security of family.  I was deeply impressed by him. 

When it was time to fry up the roti is when he became truly invaluable.  I rolled furiously and he fried quickly and happily through so much roti I thought we'd never be done.  We talked about the finer points of the various varieties of roti and he asked questions about technique.  Seems the kid also loves to cook and wants to be able to make it again himself.  We laughed when it was over because I was covered in flour and he said as sous chef he should have wound up dirtier than I did.  I've always enjoyed cooking WITH another person who enjoys cooking because it's just such a nice way to get to know each other.  It was a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon made all the more so by having such a remarkable helper.  I wish him only the best blessings that family has to offer.

Slice of Lime-You Say Fry Bread...I Say Fry Bake

Over the weekend I was not only working hard to finish a quilt, I was also visiting Calypso at the camp where she is interning with a group of other kids her age.  Back in January twelve of them spent the night at out house before flying to Costa Rica early the next morning.  At that time I made some Trini treats for them to snack on, fry bake and tomato chokha.  In the group there are a few Navajo students.  They especially seemed to love the fry bake and said it tasted like Indian Fry Bread.  When I showed up at camp this weekend one of the Navajo boys saw me and cried, "Hi, Mom!  You're here!  Are you going to make fry bread again?"  He called me Mom, he is at least a couple thousand miles away from home, I know what it is to be far from home and craving just a taste of it.  How could I say no?

Calypso grabbed my camera to document portions of the process.  In case you're interested, here's the recipe.

4 cups flour
Baking powder (I dunno a couple giant spoonfuls)
half a fist sized blog of shortening or so
1 1/2 cups water

Like my consistent standards of measurement there?  Ok, hush, and just go with it.  Use your hands to rub the shortening into the flour and baking powder.  Pour in the water and knead until the dough is smooth and elastic.   Then let the dough "relax" for about a half hour.  It's hard work being kneaded.  After it relaxes pull a hunk off and hand knead it into a ball.  (That's what I am doing in the picture)  Roll it out, slice it up and fry it on both sides in hot oil.  Pictures to follow.

Calypso took this one and said it would be the Nanzo picture.  Nanzo was my Trini mom.  She hated having her picture taken.  The only time you could get away with it was if she was busy rolling dough because that was serious business.  Just take it and run before she could start swinging the rolling pin!  Truth be told she'd only threaten with it. 

Here's the dough all slice up ready to be fried.  One young ma came in and asked if i was making pot pie noodles.  I very nearly kissed him.  Any self-respecting Pennsylvania German knows potpie doesn't come in a crust.  It has gravy and noodles.  So I was making Trini food at the request of a Navajo but it was mistaken for PA German.  How many more cultures could I hit in the kitchen? (The next day I'd make a Kenyan stew for everyone if you must know.)

And the frying commences.  The hardest part is waiting to eat.

My Navajo "son" needed to do quality control before everyone else was served.

Judging by how many he ate I'm thinking he approved.  He was a happy boy.  Fortunately he shares well and there were enough for the other 12-15 people who wanted some too.  We didn't worry whether it's fry bread or fry bake.  We just savored it together.

Excuse Me While I Slip into a Cocoa Coma

The two bits of cake in the above picture were made using this recipe and this recipe.  Someone at Chez Lime may have requested one or the other.  Someone else may have thought they'd be a lovely complement to each other in both flavors and textures.  That same someone may have been ambitious enough to produce both recipes.  Several someones may not have been able to finish what was on their respective plates due to the intensity and richness contained thereupon.  Someone else may have finished every last morsel and be about ready to slip into blissful unconsciousness as a result. Sugar plum fairies ain't got nuthin' on the cocoa and raspberry angels.

Whaddya Mean Pilgrims Didn't Eat Pineapple?

Ok, first off...Blogger is being totally pissy and not letting me upload photos.  If that changes before I have to go to work tomorrow I will add them to the post.  If not, we are out of luck visually.

It's been a while since I've done a recipe post.  I thought I had posted this one some time ago but a careful 10 second search of the archives revealed nothing so here goes.

Every family has some holiday food traditions.  Some make sense.  Some don't.  It doesn't matter.  If it makes your family happy then it's a good one.  One weird food tradition we have is baked pineapple served at the 3 major holidays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter.  The recipe originated with my great Aunt Virginia about 20 years ago.  When she died, my grandmother took over making it.  When Nana died, I took over making it.  When I croak someone else will have to take the job.

Now going back to Great Aunt Virginia and an interesting story, because what's a holiday without a weird family story to go with the weird food?  She was very elderly and bedridden.  Because her health was in massive, rapid decline she was moving from eastern Pennsylvania to western Ohio to be near her son.  My grandmother, mother, and I were working hard to pack up her belongings for her.  When I say working hard I'm not exaggerating.  She literally could have fully furnished 3 houses with all the furniture, kitchen wares, and tchotchkes she had.  It was astonishing the sheer volume of stuff she had amassed in her lifetime.  After it was sorted through she told me I should pick a few items from the things she was getting rid of that I'd like to have to remember her by.  I had admired a hand crocheted lace tablecloth and told her I was interested in that since she was offering.  She beamed saying she thought I should have it because my great grandmother had made it and would be smiling down from heaven knowing it stayed in the family.  I thanked her for the tablecloth and began folding it at which point GAV informed me it would cost me $40.  My jaw dropped, I clapped my hand over my mouth to stop from bursting out laughing, and I looked at my mother, then my grandmother to silently ask them if I had heard correctly.  They returned the shocked expression and my grandmother asked her sister-in-law to clarify.  GAV repeated my price for the "family heirloom" would be $40.  Ain't no polite way to back pedal off saying I was interested and I didn't want to argue with an inform old lady (which I'm pretty sure she was counting on anyway) so I ponied up.  It still makes me laugh every time I look at the thing. 

Anyway, back to the recipe...baked pineapple.  You're going to need the following:


Baked Pineapple

1 can crushed pineapple in juice, drained
3 eggs, beaten
3/4 C. sugar
1/2 C. butter, melted
5 slices of bread, crusts removed and cubed. (I like potato bread)

It's a very yellow list of ingredients, especially if you use potato bread.  Ok, now pay attention because this is the hard part.  It's really technical here.  You ready?  Ok...throw it all in a big bowl together and mix it up.  Once it's all stirred together it will look like it's something already partially eaten or digested or curdled at the very least.  Mmmmmm, sounds yummy, huh? 

Oh lighten up, Francis.  If you've ever read one of my recipes before you know I'm not exactly formal recipe person.  You want fancy shmancy and all measured and matchy matchy go talk to Martha Stewart.  This ain't fancy food, it's folksy food. But it's darned yummy.

I have another odd great aunt (really, there's no shortage of them in my family and I don't mean that as a slam because they keep things lively and interesting).  She is known for her tendency to complain and criticize.  A couple years ago she took a big glob of baked pineapple because it's her favorite part of the meal.  She took a bite and announced it was terrible and I had fouled it up completely.  It was another jaw dropping moment until she smiled and I realized it was her ploy to get everyone else to back off the stuff so she could have more of it to herself.

I digress again....you have a bowl of vomit looking stuff that you don't know what to do with yet.  Put it in a greased casserole and stick it in an oven preheated to 350F.  Bake it for 45 minutes or until it gets brown around the edges and seems set.

It's good stuff.  Feel free to set it on a table with a lace table cloth and wait for people to announce how awful it is....or just dig in an enjoy.  I haven't found anyone who doesn't like it yet. 

Avgolemono

If you can't pronounce that don't worry about it. Just call it Greek Lemon Chicken Soup. It's been a long while since I posted a recipe here but yesterday as I was cooking I thought perhaps it was time once again. It was a cold, dreary, rainy day and a couple of members of Chez Lime were not feeling well so chicken soup seemed a good thing to make. Mind you, I like regular chicken soup as much as the next person but I am especially fond of Avgolemono because of the extra little lemon zing. This recipe is adapted from an old cookbook I found among my grandmother's things after she died 12 years ago. I was happy to find this recipe in it but the first few times I made it were visual flops. After some coaching from a Greek neighbor and a friend who was taught to make this by her yia yia (Greek for grandmother) I was able to get it right. So when I give you directions know it's not just for my own indulgence. It's for your own good and the good of the soup. Ok, let's get cooking. Here's what you'll need.


AVGOLEMONO SOUP

6 cups of chicken stock (I like to make my own and then use the meat from that for the soup but yesterday I didn't have time for that so I grabbed some organic low sodium broth from the pantry. I go for low sodium not just for health reasons but for taste because otherwise things just taste too darned salty. I like to control the amount of salt in a dish. If you want a salt lick in a bowl, get the other kind. It's your blood pressure. If you need to know how to make your own stock go google a recipe somewhere. I don't have time to go over that today.)
juice of half a lemon (Yes, I squeeze the lemon. Then I strain it. No one wants seeds and pulp in their soup. If you're hellbent on using reconstituted juice figure out how much it is. I have no idea.)

2 Tbsp water (That would be two molecules of hydrogen to every one molecule of oxygen combined and repeated over and over to make 2 Tbsp. If the chemistry is daunting and unwieldy just turn on your faucet.)
2 eggs

1/2 cup orzo pasta (Here is where I diverge from Nana's cookbook. The author says 4 Tbsp of rice. I like rice shaped pasta instead of actual rice but you do what you want, ok? I can cut you that much latitude.)

meat from chicken bones (Since I didn't make my own stock I just threw a couple of boneless breasts in the oven and then shredded them up after they were cooked. I'm going to be a stickler for technique here but we can be flexible about some of the ingredients. Keep up, would ya?)

black pepper and sea salt to taste (Your taste may differ from mine so whatever works for you. If your pot tastes like a salt lick though I'm not interested in it.)


-Put the stock and orzo in a pot and heat. Once it reaches a boil cover it and simmer until the pasta is al dente. I'll admit I kind of over did it a bit yesterday so it got overly soft. You've been warned.

-While the stock is coming to boil whisk the eggs thoroughly in a big bowl, not massive but eventually the bowl will have about 3 cups of fluid you need to be whisking around so it has to accommodate that unless you're fond of having this mess fly all over your counter. Mix the lemon juice and water together then slowly add it to the eggs as you continue whisking them. This is the part where you practice that slow adding and whisking at the same time. You're going to be doing a lot of that for this recipe. It's really important later on.

-Once the pasta is al dente take the pot off the heat and remove 2 cups of the broth. VERY SLOWLY add this to the lemon/egg mixture as you continue to whisk. When I say very slowly, I mean it. If you go dumping all that boiling hot broth into your eggs willy nilly just forget it. You're going to have curdled eggs and nasty looking soup. It will still be edible but it will look like vomit in a bowl, which is not terribly appetizing. So just take yer flippin' time already! Slow down! I mean add it drip by drip, seriously. It took me several minutes to add 2 cups of hot broth to the eggs. And don't stop whisking...again, it's the risk of a bowl of pukey looking soup.

-Now that you've practiced that you get to do it some more. Take that brother/egg/lemon mixture and VERY SLOWLY add it back to the pot as you stir the soup constantly. Please don't make me describe my idea of slow again. Were you not paying attention in the last step? Really, if you don't have enough of an attention span for that then just give up on this soup. This is not ADHD compatible soup. If you want that go crack open a can of chemical salt lick brew. Again, if you're not slow about it you'll have curdled soup. My friend told me her yia yia used to get the pace right by sucking air through her pursed lips while she poured with one hand and stirred with the other. Whatever works, ya know?

-After all the mixture is added back into the pot, add salt and pepper, toss in the meat, and reheat the whole thing on medium low heat until it SOUNDS like it's boiling but isn't actually having bubbles break the surface. Stir it occasionally. Once it sounds boiling take it off the heat and stir it gently.

-Ladle it into the bowls, slurp it up enjoying the slightly lemony tang. Congratulate yourself on a fine pot of soup.

Mmmmmmm........

Pennsylvania German Tuesday-Chicken and Waffles

Yes, you read that correctly. I said chicken and waffles. I know right now some of you are thinking I've finally gone around the bend. Trust me ok? This is good stuff. And just so we are clear there's no syrup involved because that would be gross. Basically it's chicken and gravy over waffles. Listen, if you can eat S.O.S. you can eat this. It's the same idea. And yes, I do like S.O.S. Yes, this is Pennsylvania German food although down south you find some folks who fry their chicken, sit it on a waffle, and pour gravy over that. I'm sorry, that's an abomination.

The non-abomination version is Depression food. I don't mean "woe is me, my boyfriend broke up with me so I need a pint of Ben & Jerry's to console me." I mean " I got a houseful of hungry kids and not a lot of money so how do I stretch what I have?"

Backing up a bit, Sunday was the first Sunday since October when no in at Casa de Lime had to go anywhere and there were no impending holidays. I decided it was time for a nice family dinner and I had a new recipe for chicken roasted in a cilantro orange marinade that I wanted to try. It was a bit of a disaster. I'm not sure if my oven temp is off or the bird wasn't completely thawed or what but after roasting it to a perfect golden brown, checking for doneness (I thought I had it right) and letting it rest before carving into it I discovered it was pink in the middle. Very aggravating and entirely disappointing. After we picked off the done parts I made a big pot of stock with the rest of it. It made a gorgeous pot of stock and a big pile of chicken after I picked the rest off the bones. Thus we came to have chicken and waffles. (See? It's that whole stretch the food dollar thing...in theory we had one good meal of roast chicken and now we have another good meal of chicken and waffles off the same carcass.)

Ok, the recipe. It's way easy. For the waffles I just use this recipe. I won't bother commenting on it except to say I love me some Alton Brown. I like the humor and geek factor he brings to cooking. I've used a lot of different waffle recipes but this one has become my favorite.

Now, the chicken and gravy part. Here's what I did.
1/4 C. butter
1/4 C. flour
pepper to taste
2 C. chicken stock

1. Melt the butter, toss in the flour and pepper to make a roux. Mix it all around.
(I once described the recipe to a friend who is a chef and now teaches chef wannabes. I thought he'd weep with joy when I used the word roux because he said his students failed to recognize the importance. Roux Roux Roux your gravy, gently on the stove. Merrily, merrily, merrily merrily, life is such a ....um....what rhymes with stove? Never mind, moving on..)
2. Slowly add in the stock as you keep whisking.
3. Bring to a boil over medium heat and let the gravy thicken.
4. Stir often.
(A real chef would probably stay stir constantly. I had other stuff going on, so it was often, not constant. I mean I had to change the CD player because I gotta have my tunes when I cook. For this recipe I recommend Amos Lee and Sheryl Crow. They were the perfect accompaniment. Some folks do wine pairings. I do music pairings. But ya know, if you'd rather some death metal with your chicken and waffles who am I to say otherwise. Just never, EVER use Neil Diamond. I am violently allergic to him. He will ruin your gravy mojo. Really, just mentioning him makes me break out in hives. Henceforth, he shall be "the singer who is not named.")

5. After your gravy thickens toss in some of the chicken you pulled off the bones from making stock. How much? Hmm, a couple of handfuls or so.
(I have small hands. If you have big hands you probably won't use more than a hand and a half. Andre the Giant might just use a pinch. Verne Troyer, well, he might need half a dozen handfuls. What? You didn't make your own stock so you didn't pull any chicken off any bones? This guy will tell you how if you need to know. Ok, well then if you used bouillon and water anyway, go grab a piece of leftover chicken and pull some meat off some bones so you can throw it in the gravy. And seriously, aren't you glad I opted to limit comment on Alton's waffle recipe? You're already wondering if you're ever going to get through a simple gravy. )

Finally, thrown some waffles on a plate, ladle the chicken and gravy over them and voila! You now have a plate of food that looks like someone hurled on it.

Yes, I know it's not pretty food. The Limelettes all talk about how gross it looks but they all like this dish. They all slurp it up with gusto. They are all happy to eat it. I think part of their joy is making barfing sounds when they are served it. They get away with that because I know they actually like this stuff and will eat it.


Besides, if you've gone to the trouble of making waffles to pour chicken and gravy over you get to have this for dessert...but only if you've eaten your dinner.

How to Justify Extra Pie and a New Appliance

Saturday was Pi Day. Even though I've never been a strong math student we celebrate Pi Day by making pie (because I am a dessert enthusiast and all I need is the flimsiest reason to justify dessert). This year I decided to make my aunt's Graham Cracker Pie recipe. I gathered all the ingredients, made the crust, cooked up the pudding from scratch and was all set to begin whipping the egg whites into meringue. Lo and behold my mixer was no longer working. The thing is 20 years old and has been used hard so I didn't feel as if I had been somehow cheated. However, it meant I would now have to whip up the 4 eggs whites into meringue...with a whisk...BY HAND. I was less than thrilled.

Could I have just left the pudding in the pie shell and had meringue-less pie? Yes, but I had already gotten my taste buds primed for a proper graham cracker pie and I had already used the yolks to make the pudding and had the 4 eggs whites sitting expectantly in the bowl. To have a meringue-less pie would have been sadly incomplete and disappointing and it would have wasted the egg whites. Yes, I know that amounts to perhaps 10 cents worth of food and no I really don't need you to point out that I shamelessly tossed 10 cents of graham cracker crumbs into the trash. This was now a challenge from the universe that I was compelled to rise to. Besides, I figured the caloric expenditure of whipping that dang meringue by hand would easily justify a second piece of pie for me.

So, if you don't mind please take a minute and marvel over the gorgeousity that is my meringue (with graham cracker crumbs sprinkled on top as per the recipe). So light and fluffy. Look I even made sure it had pretty little peaks to get all toasty brown in the oven.

Mmmm....doesn't that look yummy?

Better get some while the gettin's good.

If celebrating Pi Day isn't geeky enough for you, I took my mixer apart to get at the cord which snapped where it exits the body of the appliance. I'm geeky enough to know how to fix it but I think, given the life span of the old hand mixer and the amount of baking I do, one of these is called for as a replacement.

Fastnacht Day!

It's Fastnacht Day! Or Shrove Tuesday...or Carnival...or Mardi Gras. Take your pick. Last year I shared the Pennsylvania German fastnacht tradition for Shrove Tuesday. I'll be making them again today, and listening to my Trinidad steel pan music at the same time. Since both Diana and Calypso have spent time in New Orleans I suspect there may be some beads and masks tossed around this house as well. Who knows, maybe even a flash or two.

That's Grammy up there making donuts. No fancy donut cutters for Grammy. She used a glass and a thimble to cut them. She made fastnachts too. The main difference between donuts and fastnachts is fastnachts don't have a hole in them and are made with mashed potatoes in the dough. If you want to be a real purist they are also supposed to be fried in lard. One year I decided to be a purist. Frying dozens and dozens of fastnachts in lard was disgusting. My face felt like it was coated in lard and for days all I could smell was lard. I think it permeated my nostrils far too deeply. It was so gross I couldn't even bring myself to even enjoy eating the fastnachts. It was utterly revolting. I get nauseated thinking about it now. That mistake will not be repeated...back to peanut oil for me. Forgive me, Grammy.

I'm sure she will. Grammy was pretty relaxed. Allow me to share a donut related example. She used to fry donuts to sell. For years her oft-repeated line to a customer was, "Bring back the holes and I will give you a free dozen." One day a boy came to buy a sack of donuts. As she handed over the bag she delivered the standard jest with a wink. The next day he came back with the greasy paper bag containing a dozen bits of donut that had been carefully eaten leaving only a tiny ring around the hole. Now some people would have been disgusted and others would have been indignant but this was Grammy. She howled with laughter that the joke was on her. She very happily made good as she counted out a free dozen for the lad. She did have to stop using her favorite line though.

So now I suppose you want the recipe. Well, the sad thing is this is one recipe that was never written down in any real form at all so over the years I have tried all sorts of different recipes. I have one other cousin who has tried many different combinations and permutations as well and she's not sharing. I'm clearly more generous than she is because I'll at least give you the recipe I plan to attempt today. *Sticking out my tongue in her general direction*

FASTNACHTS
1 C. warm mashed potatoes
3 egg yolks
1 C. sugar
1 yeast cake or one envelope dry yeast dissolved in
1 C. warm water
1 C. flour

-Mix well in large bowl. Add 3 egg whites beaten stiff. Let rise 3 hours.

Add:
1 C. butter
1. cup warm potato water (left from cooking potatoes)
1 C. sugar
6-7 C. flour

-Knead well. Let rise 6-6 1/2 hours. Roll out dough 1/2 inch thick. Cut and let rise again for a short time. Fry in hot oil.

I've got no commentary on the finer points of executing this recipe since it's one I haven't tried before. Given that crazy rise time though I will start the dough Monday night so it rises while I sleep. My nod to being a "purist" will be getting up to make them well before the buttcrack of dawn. I must be out of my mind. Hey! You didn't have to be so eager to agree with me!

I'm setting this thing for autopost so by the time you read this I should be in "the fastnacht zone." Either that or in a dough induced coma from over indulgence...or possibly in the nuthouse cursing this recipe while I careen off the padded walls.

Happy Fastnacht Day!

UPDATE (6:00 am): I actually hauled myself out of bed at 4am to begin the rolling, cutting, frying process. everything was done by 5:30 am and mostly cleaned up. The results of this recipe were mixed. The dough took way more than 7 cups of flour in order to be even remotely kneadable. It rose nicely and I kept the oil at a constant temp but some of the fastnachts didn't cook all the way through. Grrr.... Is it my incompetence at such and unreasonable hour (or just in general)? Is it the recipe? I dunno. The ones that cooked through were yummy. I think I may just need to give up on traditional "holeless" fastnachts and just cut holes in them all the time so they definitely cook through. Ok, I'm off to hustle the limelets who will no doubt move through the fastnachts like a swarm of locusts.

Peace, Love, and Chocolate

Last Thursday I posed with my 5 pound Hershey bar and told you all I'd finally be hacking into it for the sake of making some yummy desserts. I chopped some up to make fondue for my girl's night out. I gave the Limelets all a chunk to gnaw on and then I used a big chunk to make this next recipe. I may have used a wee bit more than suggested by the recipe...

Some time ago I posted about my love of Peanut Butter Tasty Kakes. They are just so good. This recipe is a very good approximation of the ones you can buy. Since they are homemade they are better in some ways. And now, allow me to share my beloved recipe with you....again...new and improved with pictures!



Faux Peanut Butter Tasty Kakes

4 eggs
2 C. sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 C. milk
2 C. flour
2 tsp baking powder
8 oz. Hershey bar or other milk chocolate
1 C. peanut butter


I started out cracking the eggs, at which point I had to pause because it seemed even the kitchen deities were smiling upon me. Well, ok, the eggs were...but that has to be a good omen, right?

The directions say to beat the eggs until they are thick and lemony, then gradually add milk ,sugar, and vanilla. This takes a while. Feel free to dance while you do this. Just keep the beaters in the bowl. I really don't need raw egg splattered all over my kitchen, thank you very much. I might suggest Devo's Whip It but if you have something else you want to shake your groove thang to during this process it's your kitchen. I take no responsibility if your eggs frown at you for it though. Actually, I don't have Whip It on my iPod. I think I was winin' to meh calypso and soca tunes and gettin' on bad. Works for me, and my eggs.

Next you are supposed to blend the dry ingredients and fold them into the egg mixture gently. I didn't take a picture of that. Just be nice and gentle to the eggs ok? After all, they smiled so sweetly at you. Then you pour it all into greased and floured jelly roll pan and bake at 350F 15-20 minutes. Now you're going to have to use your imaginations because I didn't take any pictures of this either. If you can't visualize some batter in a jelly roll pan what hope is there for you or for anyone exhorting you to visualize something as abstract as world peace for that matter? Sad really.

(Insert mental image of sponge cake batter in an old jelly roll pan HERE) Ok, instead of that here's a picture of the chocolate I chopped up to melt for the top of the cake plus some more for fondue later. Notice the lovely new tie dyed dish towel setting off the fabulous chocolate. I do find that when I want to let there be peace on Earth and let it begin with me, chocolate and tie dye are wonderful starting points.




I also forgot to take a picture of the baked sponge cake. I trust you can figure out what it looked like, we already covered this whole using your imagination thing...If you're going to complain about the lack of pictures I will hasten to point out that this recipe, unlike so many of my others, has exact measurements for the ingredients and explicit directions. You can't have it all. This ain't the Food Network, you know. For one thing, I am a whole lot heftier than that Giada DeLaurentis chick (never trust a skinny cook). But I digress. The next step is to spread the peanut butter while the sponge cake is still warm. See? I DID take a picture of that. Just put little blobs of the PB all over the top and let the heat of the cake make it all melty and spreadable. Do be gentle or you'll tear the cake to shreds. Don't say I didn't warn you. Really, I won't take any blame. I'll just shake my head, mutter under my breath about the inability of some folks to follow directions, and go eat chocolate without even the least hint of guilt over your mangled cake.
After you smear on the PB let it cool.


Finally, spread the melted chocolate on top. Of course, I have assumed you already melted the chocolate that you already chopped up. If you didn't do that why are you sitting here reading this? Go do it now! Sheesh, it's not going to melt itself, especially not in February in the northern hemisphere.

After everything has cooled down and firmed up (What? Is this cake a roller coaster with all these ups and downs?) you can cut it and enjoy it. Mmmmm....looks good doesn't it?

You know you want some. Go ahead. It will promote peace...if not on a global scale at least in your own life...as long as you don't step on a scale after indulging.

But I swear, if you try to mess with what's left of my 5 pound Hershey bar there will be blood.

Just in Case you Didn't Stuff Yourself Silly Yesterday

It's the day after the Super Duper Bowl. Whoopee do. Ask me how much I care. It's also Groundhog Day and if Punxatawny Phil sees his shadow thus predicting 6 more weeks of winter I may need to hunt him down and cook him. I can't even bear to think about 6 more weeks of winter since we got 6 extra weeks of it before the solstice ever occurred. (Update: As soon as I hit publish and went back to my homepage and saw this. The rodent must die.)

Therefore today I am going for comfort...in food form. Saturday night I went to a gathering where I knew there would be someone in attendance who cannot eat chocolate. Since I was responsible for dessert I figured I should haul out a recipe that person could enjoy too. Lacking genuine post inspiration I thought I'd share the recipe with you lovely folks. In the process I will demonstrate that not every confection I prepare is dripping with chocolate.

Today's recipe is Bellybutton Cake. It is made from the collected navels of a rare breed of....no, never mind. No bellybuttons were harmed during the production of this cake. It's a recipe my mom made when I was bit a wee lime. Just follow along and you'll understand the name shortly.

First the ingredients.

Batter
1 1/2 cups of sugar
1 egg
1 egg sized blob of shortening (Yes, that's the measurement given on the recipe. You can manage. I have faith in you.)
1 cup of milk
2 1/2 cups of flour
2 teaspoons of baking powder

Topping
butter
cinnamon
brown sugar

-Mix up the batter ingredients, you know...cream up the sugar, egg and shortening, blah blah blah, then add in the milk and flour/baking powder alternately...standard procedure here.
-Pour the batter in a greased and floured cake pan and dot the top of it with little chunks of butter like so...



I realize there are those of you who need to know how much butter and how big the chunks should be. I don't measure. I grab a stick of butter and start cutting off bits of it until I am happy with the amount on the top of the cake. Ok, ok, ok already....I probably used about a half a stick of butter and the chunks were a little bigger than fingernail sized. Let's get one thing straight....NO MARGARINE. Butter only here. I take no responsibility for the failure of your bellybutton cake if you choose to disregard this.


Next you'll sprinkle the cinnamon and brown sugar on top. How much? Whatever floats yer boat. Make yourself happy. A generous dusting of cinnamon and about two handfuls of brown sugar makes me happy. You may be easier or more difficult to please. It's your business as to what you do with your cinnamon and brown sugar. No one from the Department of Homeland Baked Goods will come harass you over the amount you choose to use. The Federal Butter Agency is watching though so heed my earlier warning...


Finally, slide that thing into a 375F oven for about 30 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Voila! Belly Button Cake! Now, do you see where the name comes from? All those chunks of butter melt into the batter and make innies that are all full of buttery, cinnamony, sugary happiness. I apologize if your significant other does not have an equally appealing innie. If that's the case I really don't need to hear about it. Even if they do have a particularly delectable navel, I really don't need to hear about it. Just eat the cake and have fun ok?
I will also tell you that a few years ago when a video of Veggie Tales Silly Songs came out with a song lauding the love of bellybuttons we planned a special Navel Night with friends. The menu consisted of Tortellini (since the shape of that pasta is said to be shaped after the Venus De Milo's navel), navel oranges, and belly button cake. We sang the belly button song and took pictures of each other's belly buttons. Yes, we are strange people. No I will not be sharing the picture of my navel. Just eat the cake, ok?

Slice of Lime/TriniThursday-Flipping for Roti (and Tie Dye)

You're going to get a little bit of everything today, a recipe, pictures, tie dye, Trinidad, limelets. As I mentioned, last week was Diana's birthday. In our house the birthday person gets to decided on the evening's menu. Both Diana and Calypso have picked roti as part of their birthday dinner every year. A couple of years ago I posted a recipe for my favorite type of roti (an East Indian flat bread) here. If you want the recipe go check that out. Today I am pretty much only going to describe the process. First a gratuitous Lil' Limelette picture. Aaawwww, so cute. That's proof that Diana has loved roti from the first taste. A friend in Trinidad had come over to teach me how to make it and Diana thieved a piece. Please also take note of the tie dye shorts she is wearing. To be honest I am shocked she is wearing clothes at all in this picture. She rarely kept them on at that age. This is another constant in her life. For her birthday she asked me to pick her up early from school so she could have a couple hours to romp around the house naked before her brother got home. Roti, tie dye, and nudity...the constants in our lives.

The only problem was that this year she wanted both roti and quesadillas. I told her if I was doing the meal alone I couldn't be frying up both things at the same time because I only have 2 hands (if you make roti with out help that's really all you can do at the time aside from occasionally giving a pot a stir) and that would 4 hands. She said she actually was willing to help me make the roti because she wanted to learn how to do it so when she is away at college and gets hungry for it she can make some. At that moment the angels sang, the clouds parted, the sun streamed down and I began to feel woozy from the shock of anyone volunteering to help in the kitchen. Once I recovered I expressed delight at the brilliance of such a notion. I instructed Diana in assembling the recipe and how to knead the dough. Once it's been properly kneaded it has to relax. It doesn't have yeast in it but it needs to sit around and contemplate it's state. Once the dough has navel gazed you have to form the loyah (balls) in a particular fashion that requires a little practice. Diana was at first confounded but she seemed to get the hang of it. After the loya are formed they have to rest and contemplate their place in the universe now that they've been broken off the larger mass of dough. Once the dough has overcome its personal existential crisis relaxed again you can begin rolling and frying. Diana started with the rolling. She did a terrific job.

Carefully carry a roti to the heated tawah (or platin if you are creole, or stone if you are anyone else) and flop it on. We are making sada roti which doesn't actually get fried with oil. It just cooks on a dry tawah but you'll live if we call it frying since the other types of roti get fried. Anyway, let it cook until the surface bubbles up. Flip that baby over with a dabla. If you don't have a dabla, use whatever you have. I love my dabla.

After you flip the roti you're going to have to press all around the edges of it with your dabla so the edges cook. A proper roti will swell when it cooks so you have to get those edges to the tawah.

When it's done flop it on a plate of other rotis and cover them up with a towel to keep them warm. Check out the groovy tie dye towel!

Oh yeah, I forgot...you gotta have something to eat with the roti. Curried venison is very nice with roti. Even though Trinis think I am totally weird for combining creole food and Indian food I also like stewed chicken with my roti too. Diana stayed Indian and decided she wanted curried channa and aloo (that's spuds and chick peas [or little butts, as Diana calls them] to the rest of you). Ok, quick recipe...6 spuds, a can of chick peas (drained), an onion, 2 cloves of garlic, curry, and some oil. Heat the oil, saute the diced onions and garlic, toss in a bunch of curry and heat it all around before you toss in the chopped spuds and chick peas. Turn to low and cover until spuds are tender. Stir occasionally and make sure it's not cooking dry. You may need to add a little water now and then. I also made sure to use my Trini curry as opposed to Kenyan curry. When I pointed out the difference to Diana she remarked at how global our kitchen and the food we eat was...Kenyan curry, Trini food, Pennsylvania German food, Mexican quesadillas, etc, etc. I smiled that another lesson was not lost on her. That's all been intentional, kiddo.

Ok, so now it's all done and ready to eat. Aside from just being yummy, roti is practical. It's not just food, it's a utensil.

Mmmmm, good stuff. Diana did very well. Because she was helping I had time to take the pictures of the process so you can either thank her for that. I still haven't had time to finish decorating so you'll excuse all that stuff on the table behind me. I'm too busy eating because as they say in Trinidad, "Bettah yuh belly burst than good food waste."

Slice of Lime-Don't Fear the Curry

Ok, I know this week has been hard on some of you non-hunting types what with talk of carcass gutting and all. Today I hope to soothe you with one of my favorite venison recipes. If you are not of the ilk to go hunt your own meat don't worry, you can use stew beef for this.

This is a recipe I learned from my dear friend Regina who is from Kenya. She had been in the U.S. for a year or so when she mentioned how much she missed venison because it was a staple in the area of Kenya she came from. I told her when Mr. Lime got a deer that year we'd gladly share some of the meat with her. She was overjoyed and insisted we come share the first meal with her family. This stewed venison is what she made. I fell in love.

So...the ingredients. First you need...some venison all cubed up. How much? I dunno, I didn't weigh it and since it didn't come in some plastic wrapped tray with a meat diaper (You know, those pads that soak up the juices) and a bar code with its weight I can't be sure. A pound? Two pounds? Howzabout we split the difference and call it a pound and a half? That bowl of meat there represents hours spent in a cold tree stand, a box of bullets, a new .243 youth rifle, yards of blaze orange fabric, a kitchen full of butchered carcass, a vacu-seal machine, and yes...even a Butt-Out tool, but we won't think of that right now...

You will also need a big can of tomato puree. What? That looks like two small cans of diced tomatoes? You are so observant. Well I was out of tomato puree. This is what I had. I whizzed it through the blender. Voila! Tomato puree. My friend Regina used tomato sauce but I like to use puree because it has a little more texture to it.

We also need curry powder. This is a curry dish. Don't be afraid of the curry. The tomato balances it out nicely. When the time comes you're going to put a ton of this in the dish. I used Trinidadian curry for it and Regina liked it but she said I cooked it so well I should have some Kenyan curry to make it taste like it's from home. In case you don't know curry is a blend and there are roughly 87 gazillion different blends for curry in the world each with a somewhat different taste. Regina carried this all the way back from Kenya for me when she went to visit so I could have that one in 87 gazillion taste.
The other ingredients are oil, garlic (as much or as little as you want, I use about 4 cloves), and onions (2 medium or 1 large). Oh, It also helps if you have a heavy iron pot with a slightly concave bottom..the kind I carried back in my own bag when I was coming home from Trinidad. Lordy, between the iron pot and the bottles of seasonings and the bolts of batik I had in my bag that was one hernia inducing suitcase. Really, this is a very easy recipe once you've convinced a friend to fly to Kenya for curry and you've flown to Trinidad to buy the pot. Very economical. But I digress....
Pour some oil in, heat it over medium heat, add the onions and garlic and let them get translucent.

Once the onions and garlic are all soft you'll add the curry....a lot of curry. See that spoon? It's a soup spoon. I think I filled it heaping 2 times, maybe 3. Ok, split the difference and call it 2 1/2. Don't fear the curry. I woke up this morning to Blue Oyster Cult's Don't Fear the Reaper. You can hum that while you sashay around sprinkling curry. Then you can think of the SNL sketch with Will Ferrell and shout, "I got a fever. I need more cowbell! I need more curry!" Tap on the side of the curry can if you don't have a cowbell. Da da da da dada....don't fear the currrryyyy.... Keep dancing. This is my kitchen. We dance when we cook. It keeps the cook happy. Happy cooks make better food.

Ok, now that we've gotten you all over your curry phobia, brown it around with just the onions for a bit then toss in the meat, crank up the heat a bit, and brown everything together. Stick your nose over the pot and inhale deeply....aaahhhh.....

Once the meat is all browned dump in the tomato puree and stir it all around.

Turn the heat back down to medium low and put the lid on. Ya like that lid? the knob broke off years ago while I was in the middle of cooking something. I had been dyeing Easter eggs and had one of those wire dipping thingies sitting on the counter so I twisted it up and jammed that sucker in the lid. I have been meaning to buy a nice wooden knob to fix it with properly but then again, this thing has worked for all these years and it has kind of a quirky personality, not unlike its owner. You can have your fancy pots and pans that shine like the sun and have insulated handles. I wouldn't trade my hernia inducing, burn causing pot with the dangerous wire poking out of the top for all the fancy pots in the world.

Ok, now all the hard work is done because you just let it all stew together until the meat is nice and tender. How long? I dunno. An hour? Two hours? Split the difference....whatever. All you have to do is stir it now and again and make sure it isn't burning. While you wait and contemplate the tasty delight the stew will be you can relax. Feel free to enjoy some reading material that stimulates salivation as well. Well, looky who's on the cover of this magazine....mmmm, yum.

When it's done serve it over rice with a side of peas and carrots and have a belly full of good, stick to your ribs food. Now if this meal were to be truly complete I'd have it with ugali (say oo-golly), which is a boiled Kenyan cornbread. Yes, I know that sounds unappetizing but it's delicious and I'd be perfectly content to have a plate of ugali and the gravy from this stew (Regina tells me this makes me very Kenyan and her husband tells me I make ugali better than his sister....ugali good enough to snare me a Kenyan husband. Glad to know I have options in the world.) Unfortunately, when I went to the cupboard I found some "undesirable alternate protein sources" in my cornmeal. Ick. Let's not think of that. I really am hungry for some ugali to go with this stew though and if you're interested here's a recipe.

Happy eats.

Slice of Lime-Smoothie Operator

I love fruit smoothies. I make them all the time. Here we have the makings of a papaya, strawberry, lime smoothie. Mmmm, look at that color! It's like tie dyed food!

And if you know anything about me you know I love to dance around my kitchen. So as I was making smoothies and wondering what to do for this week's Slice of Lime I hit "shuffle" on my iPod and what should happen to come on but Sade's Smooth Operator.

So I shimmied and sashayed around the kitchen as the fruits whizzed around the blender and I giggled as I thought of a different set of lyrics for the song.

No need to ask
She's a smoothie operator
Smoothie operator, smoothie operator
Smoothie operator

Coast to coast, LA to Chicago, I'd drink a pail
Across the north and south, to Key Largo, fruit for sale

She's a smoothie operator
Smoothieeeeeee Operaaaaator

Yes, I know I am a very unwell person. My apologies to the lovely and talented Sade for throwing her lyrics into the blender. My apologies to any of you who attempt the following recipe which I am updating and tweaking from 3 years ago on an old blog.


Papaya-Limeberry Smoothies

3 or 4 cups frozen Papaya chunks (6 months in the freezer is minimally accepted time, ignore the freezer burn)

2 cups strawberries

juice of one lime

1 wooden spoon

-Add the unthawed papaya chunks, strawberries, and lime juice to a blender. Hit puree.
-Insert wooden spoon through opening in blender lid and push ingredients to blade.
-Notice this is not helping.
-Turn off blender, shift ingredients around, and repeat 2 previous steps.
-Become impatient. Stop blender and really smash fruit chunks into blades. Hit puree.
-Continue smashing fruit into blades with wooden spoon (be sure to hit the blades several times) until desired consistency is achieved.
-Turn off blender and pull out spoon. Notice large chunks of spoon missing.
-Consider dumping it all down the drain. Remember there are children starving in Africa (not to mention that we are standing on a precipice gaping into the wide open maw of a looming economic depression ourselves...you can thank me later for the cheery, uplifting tone of this recipe).
-Strain the smoothie through a sieve to remove larger splinters of spoon.
-Pour smoothie into a glass and enjoy.
-Notice there are still several visually detectable specks of wood.
-Tell yourself this too shall pass.