Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Chef Magic, and Food for Poor People
I probably haven't mentioned this before, since this is only the second entry on what is to be, I'm afraid, an oft-neglected blog, but: I live with a chef (she also happens to be one of probably five chefs in the world without a substance-abuse problem, and there I count myself lucky). I don't see her very often, as my 8-4 job and her late-night hours often mean missing each other entirely, but once in a while I wake up she has baked something and I find it the next morning where she left it out to cool on the oven. Recently, she made orange sweet-rolls. I don't know how she made them, although I imagine flour and orange marmalade both played key parts. The rest I will dismiss as being magic.
I will never claim to be an expert on cooking, but after two years in grad school, I am an expert on grocery shopping on a budget. I buy a ton of produce, and my weekly grocery bill rarely exceeds $50 (that is my kind of magic). This is especially rare when you consider that, after two years of making Top Ramen with a Mr. Coffee, I swore off the pre-packaged noodles. I definitely make an effort to eat Real Food, as opposed to Food Products, and try not to eat too many things that come in a box. When, in the summer of 2009, I found myself with access to a kitchen of my very own, I began to branch out from Kraft Macaroni & Cheese (in Spongebob Squarepants shapes, always), and even exploring the vast, uncharted territory of the produce section. And, by far, the food which provided maximum meals for minimum cost was spaghetti squash.
For the uninitiated, spaghetti squash is a variety of squash which is both a vegetable and a pasta. It can be microwaved, boiled, steamed, or slow-cooked, and it can be served as a side-dish or as a main dish. I usually add marinara sauce and parmesan (and sometimes avocado), although I have seen recipes which serve it with olive oil, bacon, or even curried. And--this is where "Food for Poor People" comes in--you can get it at most grocery stores for $1.50-2 a pound. Since the only parts of the squash you can't eat are the husk and the seeds in the center, one squash can last for between three and five meals, depending on its size.
My favorite method of cooking spaghetti squash is in a crock-pot, although I have, in the past, cooked it on the oven in a covered pan, as well. Prior to cooking the squash, pierce it with a sharp knife 8-10 times (more if you've had a bad day). Place it in the pot with 1 1/2-2 cups of water, set the crock-pot to low (or the stove to "simmer) and leave it for approximately three hours (one if you are preparing the squash on the stovetop). You can tell if the squash has finished cooking by piercing it with a sharp knife--if the knife goes in easily, it is done; if it is difficult to get the knife through the husk, cook for a while longer. Once the squash is finished, remove it from the water and cut it in half lengthwise. Leave it to cool for approximately 30 minutes, then scoop out the seeds and fluff the "meat" of the squash with a fork. You can either remove the insides and keep them in a container for easier storage, or serve the squash in-husk. From there, your preparation of the squash can be as simple or as complex as you want--Smitten Kitchen has a particularly interesting-looking Moroccan-spiced spaghetti squash recipe that I am planning on trying in the near future. Follow your instincts, and if you're feeling uninspired, a quick Google search will turn up a few thousand ideas.
Labels:
food for poor people,
the roommate,
vegetables
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
2012: Year of the Stashbust
Oh God.
It is not quite 9 p.m on a Tuesday evening and I have decided to finally kick-start my most important New Year's Resolution: that is, to begin the process of depleting the considerable yarn stash I have amassed since college. And, you guys, that's not even most of it, because I have about 20 more balls of yarn back at my parents' house that I purchased when Vanberia had 100-gram hanks of hand-dyed wool crazy on sale.
Therefore, I have decided to start a new blog to chronicle my domestic pursuits, including The Great Stashbust of 2012 (knitting), my newfound love of sewing (thanks, Mom!), and cooking, which, to be fair, will probably have more to do with bragging about things my roommate made, because she's the talented cook in our household--after all, it is her job. This blog, Grownupitude: Adventures of a Reluctant Domestic, will, I hope, keep me accountable to this particular New Year's promise, because I live in a tiny apartment, and there just isn't room for me AND all of this yarn.
Tonight I went through all of the yarn in my apartment and catalogued it by brand, weight, color, and yardage (the last of those categories involves mostly guessing on my part, since there's no sure way to tell). It fits into two bags--I don't know how this is possible, especially given how insurmountable the task of whittling this stash down feels at the moment. I can only assume that there is some type of Mary Poppins thing going on in my salmon-colored travel bag, which accounts for the amount of yarn currently residing in it.
As for what is to become of all of this wool and merino and acrylic and alpaca, I can only assume that I will be making a lot of small, instant-gratificationy projects, and those that are good enough to satisfy my lofty standards will end up on my Etsy shop, because I certainly don't need them. I will probably take inspiration for projects from The Minimalist Knitter, whose stashbusting goals are similar to mine. I did finally figure out how to make those nifty little earwarmers all the kids seem to be wearing these days, and without having to crochet (!), so I suspect I'll be making more than a few of these:
As for the rest, we'll have to see. I'm taking a breath, counting down from five, and jumping in.
Labels:
knitting,
panic,
setting goals
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