The Proper Way to Eat Steak

...is with toast.

It was an unspoken, unwritten rule when I was growing up that toast must be served with steak. (Or maybe I just thought that, but it was a good rule anyway.) It's my rule, now, and I'm very happy to share it with you.

If you slightly lift a chunk of steak that has been correctly cooked or grilled, you'll find a warm puddle of the most incredible juice you can imagine under it. To my taste, it should be dark and slightly greasy; if it's bright red, the steak is too rare (read: raw) and if it's NOT there, good luck to you because the steak will be dry. As you cut and eat your steak, the puddle should grow a bit larger from the juices released from the center.

Let it grow.
Don't let your potato or salad slop over into the puddle...it'll waste precious drops and you'll have regrets.
Trust me.

When the meat and salad and potato have all been consumed, you should have a lovely puddle of steak juice left on your plate. I personally don't use steak sauce, but if you do, it will not have spoiled the experience. (I've been blessed to grow up and then live where the best tasting beef in the world is raised. I like to taste the beef. That's why I don't mess around with steak sauce.)

Now is the time to take half a slice of buttered toast and soak it in the still warm steak juice. Don't get in a hurry, let it really absorb the goody. (If you've been lucky enough to have more juice than one half-slice will handle, the other half can do clean up.)
My favorite sopping toast is white Texas toast. I don't know why, but it's the perfect carrier for all the flavors. We now healthily make whole grain toast and it's okay, but all those crunchy seeds and grains sort of get in the way of the pure experience.

Pick the now saturated toast up and eat the best part of your steak dinner.
Really.
It'll be rich and beefy, soft and crunchy at the same time. Salty enough to make you crave more. Your fingers will smell like steak and toast, and you'll have to stop yourself from licking them happily. The next minute you may find yourself looking at your dining partner's plate, calculating whether or not they know the proper way to eat steak and if not, how completely inappropriate it would be to sop up their juice, too.
You won't even consider dessert.
You won't HAVE to!
Steak juice and buttered toast is the most perfect way to end the meal.

The Farmer's Wife Abroad {Food}

Ah, the food...

Bonaire can grow nothing, save goats and iguanas (both of which are edible...), so all the food on the island is imported. 

And imported = expensive. 

Especially when an island is importing the vast majority of their food products from the Netherlands. A lot of the produce comes from South and Central America, which saves a few miles, but other than that, the Netherlands.  

I kind of knew this, but I didn't KNOW this...does that make sense? 

I had read about the grocery stores and markets, even watched a couple videos taken by a tourist who was shopping in Van Den Tweel's in Kralendijk, but it didn't occur to me that the labels would all be in Dutch. I was more focused on staying within my grocery budget and still feeding everyone enough so that we weren't forced to kill and butcher a goat, say...

Since I don't really know any Dutch, this made grocery shopping quite slow.  I looked at the labels, thought about what the English equivilant of that word might be, examined the picture or product quite carefully once again, and put it in the cart.  Sometimes I hit it, sometimes I didn't.  

I wanted half & half for my coffee but all I could comprehend was "melk"...obviously "milk".  But the rest of the cartons gave me no clue as to their contents. And the smiling cows on them seemed to mock my ignorance...

I bought karnemelk. 

Who knows?! Karnemelk might be part milk with the other part being cream...oh, I hope, I hope...

NO.

Karnemelk is buttermilk. 

A terrible lesson in Dutch at 6 a.m. in my coffee. 

(I used it later in seafood fritters and it worked out neatly, so no waste.)

There was also a section of what appeared to be shelf-stable coffee creamers with happy Dutch people sipping hot beverages on the label. (And the label did NOT say karnemelk anywhere on it, so I thought "Who knows?! It might be creamer...oh, I hope, I hope")  

NO

The happy Dutch citizens had evaporated milk in their coffee. Not even sweetened condensed milk, but just plain old evaporated "melk".  Why were they so ecstatic about THAT? 

The fruit was amazing. 

It was tricky, though.  It LOOKED green, especially the pineapple and mangos.  It FELT green. It didn't smell like ripe fruit generally smells. But when I'd cut into it, it was perfectly ripe...if I let it sit on the counter for more than a day it would begin to be TOO ripe very quickly.  

Cheese....oh, God bless the Dutch and their happy cows who make happy cheese.

I have no idea what kinds I bought, but they were all good. (This is not surprising, since cheese is one of my favorite food groups.) 

I stayed within budget very well, so Thursday Ivan gave me extra cash and told me to get shrimp and steak for supper that night. I'd been shopping all week at three different supermarkets and knew the pickings were slim in the beef department and the shrimp looked a little old...what to do?  Warehouse Grocery (which was not a "warehouse grocery" like we're used to; Costco and Sam's Club...it was a regular old supermarket) had good steaks that day, but I was not paying for anything with a bone. With careful picking, I ended up with 3 loin cuts that ran $47/lb.  At Van Den Tweel's, I found some not so gross shrimp that was pre-garlic-ed for $34/lb and several pork skewers (at least I THINK they were pork skewers...or goat, but we're not going to split hairs now) for $30/lb.  When I returned with my haul and brought it into the villa, Ivan said, "You didn't get enough!" to which I pointed out the prices on the receipt and we agreed that everyone would have to fill in the gaps with rice and salad...

Merrill, the owner of the villa, had told me where I could go for fresh fish....catch of the day!....so I was determined to get my hands on some of that.  It was a rather strange connection as I had to call the front desk of a hotel, they'd put me in touch with the kitchen, we'd wrangle out a deal and I'd go home with whatever they caught that day. 

I called the Sand Dollar and sure enough, they said they had fish and to stop by the office to make the deal. 

Hmmm...

Well, it took me a little while to find the office because it was tucked way in the back of the resort, far from the entrance and parking lot. When I finally found it, I was hot and flustered and frankly, not in the mood to haggle over any old fish.  The front desk clerk listened to my story, picked up the phone and negotiated a deal with the kitchen for tuna steaks (enough for six) for $22.  When did I want to pick them up? Um....in an hour, maybe? No worries, the fish would be there in an hour. 

But, in true Bonairian spirit, the desk clerk (Mercedes- pronounced mar-SHAY-deez) said I could get it whenever...she was there all day, even over lunch when the sign said they were closed, and just swing by when I was finished marketing. I wanted to hug her. 

When I got the tuna back to the villa, I carefully unwrapped the newspaper and then the plastic wrap.

There were the most beautiful, huge pink chunks of tuna I'd ever seen....about an inch thick, mostly. It was almost intimidating, thinking of grilling such perfection! 

But I managed it...salt, pepper, lime juice...it grilled like a dream, and paired nicely with the fresh mango salsa I made that afternoon. 

I really wish my group had liked fish better, because I'd have been at the Sand Dollar every morning, chatting it up with Mercedes, picking up barracuda or what have you.  

Here's the supermarket I used most often. (I'm not ashamed to tell you...it's because as I went out the door, there were insanely yummy, fresh smoothies made of just blended fruit...no yogurt or anything. $2 bought a go cup of heaven.) 

The thing about ALL the supermarkets on Bonaire is that you had to bring your own bags to carry your groceries out with. (Presumably because they were eco-sensitive and couldn't handle the amount of trash the other plastic/paper bags would add to the island.) (All the trash has to be hauled OFF Bonaire and away, so the residents use everything up and recycle as much as they can.)

At Van Den Tweel, you also had to rent a shopping cart. All the carts were chained together outside. In order to take one to use, you had to push a quarter in a little slot which released the chain from the handle. When you returned the cart, you pushed the chain back in the handle slot and out popped your quarter.  Neat, huh?! I kept a cart quarter in Bonnie's cupholder so I wouldn't have to dig around in my pocket or purse each time I went. 

STROOPWAFELS!!!

My favorite Dutch thang. 

These were my breakfast every morning after this purchase...along with koffe, sans karnemelk.

(See the shopping bag? You can't believe how many groceries those hold! It's the lugging them up the stairs to the kitchen that's the trick...)

Australian house wine, which was mostly chardonnay as the label indicates, but packaged with Dutch labeling...

I loved that the Oreos (black and whites) had the description in Dutch, French, and Italian!

With a name like "Smaakt", it has to be good! (I think chickpeas in a tomato sauce, I'm not certain.)

Cornstarch was allesbinder. The baking soda was found among the cleaning products. And I had to go to two other groceries to find baking powder for my fritters. (No one bakes, there! It's too hot, and the air conditioning is room by room if you can possibly afford it, so all the baked goods are bought in the markets. And there are precious few ingredients to use if you want to do it yourself.)

I spent quite a lot of the grocery budget on fruit juice, which really was quite good and that Jaspers consumed in vast quantities. (I don't blame them a bit. Toward the end of the stay, I was drinking more of it, too, and I'm not a juice drinker!) The juice came in boxes like you'd buy chicken stock in here, and the only way I could guess at what juice was in the box was by the pictures. If I didn't recognize the fruit, I didn't buy the box.  

One of the things I started doing later in the week was to watch other people's grocery carts if I heard them speaking Papiamentu or Dutch. They knew the good products and produce! The best time to shop if you wanted to avoid crowds was in the afternoon before everyone got off work and the other folks were laying low trying to stay cool. It was wonderfully air conditioned in the supermarkets and I took my time doing the Dutch Label Lottery game. Sunday morning was craziness...I think everyone got out of church, then zipped by the stores to get something for lunch.  

I haven't even touched on the food in the restaurants!

YIKES!

There'll be a second food post, I'm afraid...

Escoffier

Auguste Escoffier.

His name means absolutely nothing to most people I know, it's a complete conversation killer in most social settings. I have no idea what reaction it might provoke in Europe or New York, but here in the Big Sky country it's completely unknown. Ironically, the way I came to find out about one of the most influential French chefs in history was through a book written by a young man living in Miles City at the time of press, another unfairly under-read piece of writing called "The Scavenger's Guide to Haute Cuisine".  

Steven Rinella grew up in Michigan, but ended up living in Miles City because his brother lived there, working for the State Fish and Game. Along the course of his life, a friend gave him a copy of Le Guide Culinaire, Auguste Escoffier's definitive (and massive) guide to French cooking. As he read through it, he developed a plan to make a three day feast of Escoffier recipes made as entirely as he could from ingredients he procured by hunting, fishing, and gathering.  Things like eels. And baby pigeons (which he managed to capture from nests behind the 600 Cafe).  I highly recommend "The Scavenger's Guide..." to anyone interested in travel, wildlife, cooking, hunting, fishing, culture, and Montana. 

As Rinella wrote through the process of his feast, he also wrote about Auguste Escoffier who was fascinating to me.  His name alone was magnificent to say, pronounced "Ah-GOOST Es-KOFE-ee-AY"....go ahead, try it out!....but his artistry with food was stunning.  I learned that he prepared dishes for royalty, one of which really and truly was "four and twenty blackbirds, baked in a pie; when the pie was opened, the birds began to sing".  I've always thought that the birds beginning to sing was a figurative way to say the pie was sublime in taste, but it turns out he really DID have live birds in there.  Escoffier baked a blackbird pie (and yes, in those days they used songbirds as meat, though I can't begin to think how many it would take to get a decent pot pie together), then baked a separate faux crust which he used to entrap the four and twenty REAL blackbirds.  Imagine, then, when the faux crust was cut and the birds were released! I assume the real pie had been covered with layers of cloth so that it would not be contaminated, but the idea of that sort of dish...what flair and ingenuity! 

You can see why I was entranced.

About a month ago, I was browsing the books at our Miles City thrift store St. Vincent de Paul, when I came across a most unusual title (for our area of the world): Auguste Escoffier, Memories of My Life.  I almost squealed out loud!  His autobiography!  In hard cover! It turns out his great grand-daughter-in-law had inherited Escoffier's notes, letters, menus, and an autobiography he'd written but that had never been taken note of or considered for publication.  By the time he'd died (in 1935), no one was interested in old turn of the century French chefs; the world was recovering from the first World War, on the precipice of the second, and there were other worries and ideas that took precedence.  Laurence Escoffier, however, had the good sense to translate his writings, go through the photographs and menus, and publish the best and most interesting in this book.

It was richness, to read in Escoffier's own words, from his own viewpoint, about how he'd developed as a chef.  He started out watching his grandmothers in the kitchen, and the very first thing he ever made was coffee, which at that time was rare and precious, a treat saved for special occasions.  It turned out brilliantly, and he was scolded as well as praised. 

The book contained photographs of his family, the places that were significant in his life, descriptions of people he rubbed shoulders with through his career (a who's-who of world leaders and artists), but most wonderfully....the menus and some recipes.  

Escoffier was famous not only for the brilliance of his dishes and the ingredients he put together, but for the way he was able to build menus that suited the occasion, guests, season, and period.  In his autobiography, he explains some of the menus and how he decided what should be served.  As someone who loves to cook for people (and eat), I took careful note of his thought process and consideration of what was in season.  The menus themselves were literal works of art, and along with being fun to read and imagine, they were gorgeous to look at.  

In his autobiography, Escoffier includes the recipes for Poularde Edouard VII and five other dishes on this menu which was for a fete to celebrate the coronation of England's Prince Edward VII.  The recipes assume the cook is as experienced as he, so while they're very specific about ingredients ("Choose perfectly ripe white peaches."), the processes are not explained in detail ("Place the peaches in a timbale containing a layer of vanilla ice cream covered with a strawberry puree'."). 

Last week, in the same thrift store, I found ANOTHER book about Escoffier, which I'm assuming was donated by the same person who'd left the autobiography.  This book, The World of Escoffier, is more about the culture and people of the time period and less about Escoffier himself.  No matter, it's beautifully done and adds to the picture I have in my head of his lifestyle. 

I'm hoping, hoping, hoping that same donor will casually drop off a copy of Le Guide Culinaire (pronounced "Lay GHEED Coo-linn-AIR").  I'd have to bring it home, place it next to Les Miserable, train a spotlight on it, and show everyone who comes in the door. 

Now you know a tiny bit about Auguste Escoffier...in the unlikely event his name comes up at a cocktail party or book club, you will not be completely ignorant of the man! And if you're in the least bit interested in French culture and cuisine, specifically at the turn of the century (1900s) in Europe, you'll enjoy his autobiography.  

Spaghetti....Doh!

Sand Springs School, 1978

(L to R) Mary Dutton, Kimberly, Pamela, and Ed Kreider, Teresa Nanini

This picture was taken in September, I think. You can tell because we're all still smiling and it looks like we'd had a little sun.  The winter of 1978 was horrific, even for a second grader like I was in this picture. What I remember most about it, though, is spaghetti.

We had spaghetti for lunch today and as I was putting away leftovers, I thought about that winter and all the spaghetti noodles I had eaten then.
Not spaghetti with sauce....just noodles.
And butter. Sometimes salt and pepper on it.
It was my first taste of "batchelor food", being snowed in with my teacher for at least a week.  Maybe it just FELT like a week, but I'm pretty sure it was. I'm certain it felt much, much longer for her.

There was so much snow and so much wind that the highway was closed, I think. Even if it had not been closed, my parents were spending all their days trying to get the cows fed and had no time to spend transporting me to and from school that week.  My teacher, Miss Nanini, and her German Shepherd, Hobo, lived in a tiny little two room "teacherage" (with a bathroom, too...ooo!) right next to the school. The Kreiders lived just across the highway from the school so they were able to go home without too much effort on their folks' part, but my family lived over 40 miles away and it was flat impossible to get me educated AND the cows fed in that sort of weather.

Staying with your teacher in her house sounds really great when you're eight years old. We were never allowed in her house (she had to have SOME privacy) and always wanted to see her secret lair, her den, where she hung her broom! It turns out, though, that teachers aren't nearly as interesting at home as one imagines them to be. It didn't matter that she didn't have a television...we didn't have one at home, either, and I was a reader even then.  She had an 8 track player and about five Dave and Sugar albums that we played over and over and over and....
To this day, I can sing "Queen of the Silver Dollar" to you from start to finish, never missing a word.
I would bet my moonboots that Miss Nanini can, too.

The little house was wicked cold (I'm sure it had little or no insulation), only about a foot out from the propane heater was warm.  The rest of the house SMELLED like propane, but didn't benefit from the heat.  The only real warmth would have been in the kitchen, had she cooked at all, but alas...
The only thing Miss Nanini could and would cook was spaghetti.  Just the noodles. Topped with the butter and "spices". She was more of an outdoorsy person and I really don't think she'd ever HAD to cook for herself or anyone else. The burden of three squares probably floored her, on top of being responsible for this child 24 hours a day for 5 or 6 days.
So, we ate spaghetti noodles for lunch and supper.
Breakfast was white toast, with butter.
AND jam!

Bless her heart, anyway.
What an experience for everyone!
Looking back, I don't really understand why I didn't stay down the hill at Uncle Joe and Aunt Daisy's house. I'm sure there were good reasons and surely no one anticipated my stay being that extended.

Now, whenever I make spaghetti and have a little bite of the ones I'm putting away, I think of that week and wonder where Miss Nanini ended up.
And if she ever learned to cook anything else.

Ham and Cheese Rolls

These are my new stash-in-the-freezer-for-branding-or-shipping rolls.  Cinnamon or caramel rolls are wonderful, but often we need something with protein to sustain us partway through the morning. The beauty of this dough is that it's incredibly flexible and CAN be made into cinnamon rolls as well, if you wish.  It's also very forgiving if you forget the eggs that are warming to room temperature in the bowl by the sink, as Shelly and I did the first time I made the recipe with her....we used that dough for a pizza crust and it was excellent! 

My friend Shelly (Reeves Smith) is the illustrator of some of my favorite cookbooks, but I believe the best one is 

Besides this roll recipe, it contains the recipe for Jan's Brownies (posted here under "Recipes" in the topic list), Stuffed Spud Soup, Fried Chicken Salad....and other ideas for slim, trim eating. 

(Actually, that's what I love about it: it was compiled before all the freedoms hit...gluten, dairy, sugar, flavor, etc...)

If you get it JUST for the brownie recipe and the illustrations, it would be money well spent.

Here's the dough recipe:

(I'm posting the picture so you can see the illustration, but will type the recipe out, too.)

Light Wheat Rolls

5 eggs (place in bowl of warm water to bring to room temperature)

1 cup water

1 cup milk

3/4 cup butter

1 cup sugar

3 cups white flour (or 2 white/1 wheat...I've never used the wheat, so I can't say how it works here)

3 pkgs rapid rise yeast (or, if your yeast is in a jar, 6 3/4 teaspoons...I go 7, because 3/4 tsp??)

Additional 6-7 cups white flour

Heat the milk, water and butter until very warm (butter does not need to melt); set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the sugar, 3 cups of flour, and yeast. 

Crack the now-warmed eggs into the warm liquid mixture, then add the liquid mixture to the flour mixture and mix well for about 3 minutes or until well combined. (Use your dough hook, here.) 

Add additional flour 1/2 cup at a time until dough is smooth and elastic...the recipe says 10 minutes, but that depends on your mixer and flour.  The dough should NOT be sticky in any way.  Place in greased pan and cover with greased plastic wrap to rest while you prepare the ingredients for your ham and cheese rolls, cinnamon rolls.

 OR form into dinner rolls right now, placing them in a greased baking pan, covering lightly with a greased  plastic wrap, letting rise until doubled in size. Brush beaten egg over the tops before baking in a 350 degree oven for about 20-25 minutes until golden brown. Makes 3 dozen rolls this way.

Ham and Cheese ingredients:

1 lb ham, sliced or chopped into little cubes (we used leftover ham this way and it worked splendidly)

1 lb shredded cheese...or more at your discretion. (The recipe says to use cheddar, but there's nothing saying you can't use Swiss or pepper jack if that's what you have or prefer.)

1 cup softened butter

4-5 green onion tops, sliced (This, too, is optional in my opinion; if your family recoils from anything green, by all means leave it out.)

1 egg, beaten

Assembling the rolls:

Roll out 1/2 of your now well rested dough on a floured surface as though you're making cinnamon rolls.  Brush the dough liberally with the softened butter, making sure to go to the edges with it. Then, (and this is how Shelly says it's supposed to be done) lay sliced ham on top of the buttered dough. I sprinkled my sliced or diced ham over it and it was just fine; probably not as pretty, but it worked. Sprinkle 1/2 of your chosen cheese over the ham, and the onion greens over the cheese.  

Carefully roll the whole mess up like you would for cinnamon rolls....see Exhibit A:

Slice the roll into 12 sections, as evenly as you can. 

Then....and this is the unexpected part, at least for me....pinch the bottom of each roll to keep all the goody contained and put it in a well greased muffin pan...like so:

Crazy, huh?

I had to buy another muffin tin for this, because with only one tin this is an ALL DAY project.

Cover the now filled muffin pans with the greased plastic wrap and let rise for 20-30 minutes.

Brush the tops of the rolls with beaten egg before baking for 30-40 minutes at 350 degrees until golden brown.

They should come out of the oven looking like this:

I'll give you a moment, here...

Remove the rolls from the pan to cool on a wire rack.

The recipe is supposed to make 30 rolls, but I found that it made 24 nice big ones for me.

It seems like a long process, but honestly, it's about the same as making homemade cinnamon rolls. Also, it's a very convivial recipe...it's much nicer to make it up with one of your best friends in the kitchen with you. 

Happy baking!

Where I Go, I Hope There's Rum...

(It's a line from a Jimmy Buffett song- Volcano.)

I've been waiting to post this until I was certain....non-refundably, absolutely certain....that it was going to happen.  The airline ticket has been purchased and the passport applied for, so I think it's time.

About a year and a half ago, my brother-from-another-mother, Ivan, sent me an advertisement for a personal chef for a small group (8-10) divers who were renting a house on the Caribbean Dutch Antilles island of Bonaire.  I didn't know if it was legit or not, but I responded to his email with a "Heck, I'd do it for the price of the plane tickets!"

I really should have done a little more research on the ad before throwing that out.

It WAS a legitimate advertisement, but it was HIS legitimate advertisement.
And I'd just flippantly applied for the job without knowing it.
(Just so you know: there were no other applicants so I was by far the lowest bid. He didn't need references either; I think the only criterion for the whole job was whether or not I would make French toast and try to cook iguana if they got one.)

Speeding along to the good part, now....
I DO have the job, there will be 5 adults and 3 kids to sling tropical hash for, and we leave around October 8th of this year!

(This will lend some credibility to my Linked In profile where among other things it says I'm "personal chef to the management".)

Now, I know practically no one knows of this little island, so here's the link to the best website I can find for it.  Now you don't have to do that whole Wikipedia thing.
And here's the place we'll be staying...Villa Lunt
I've been corresponding with the owner of the rental to try to figure out what kitchen resources and marketing options there are.  One of the most startling things, though, is that there isn't an oven or crockpot there! I'll have to get creative with the grill, I guess.  But it's all part of the adventure, right?

Other parts of the adventure include learning Dutch so I can find ingredients in the stores and markets, learning how to cook iguana, and packing my whole island wardrobe in a carry on to avoid losing or paying fees on a checked bag.

My family will be just fine. (I can see grandmas and aunties clucking over THIS.) Celestia and Jasper offered to come cook for everyone and make sure they get on the school bus in time. The Farmer is cool with the whole deal, too.

I'm reading Caribbean cookbooks and will be trying quite a few recipes out in the next six months. Come join us for callaloo stew! (Or a reasonable facsimile...)

PS: There are flamingos on Bonaire. Not the plastic ones like I have and love, but the real birds!  I'm so excited!

Fwicasseeing Wabbit Season

Before you read this post, go ahead and watch the Looney Toons video posted in the side bar.  It'll put you in the right frame of mind for this...

I'll just go mix up a cocktail whilst you do.

Isn't it funny?!  

Well, it is if you're not a duck...

Today I made rabbit for lunch. 

Technically, I made about 8 rabbits for lunch, I think.  

I tried not to count the little legs. 

I tried not to think about the meat being rabbit, for that matter.  "It's just meat.  You cook meat all the time. Cute meat, even. (I think cows are adorable.) It's just like fish or chicken or any old thing." Because really, that's what it IS. 

It's not Beatrix Potter's Peter Rabbit cottontail in a little blue jacket from Mr. MacGregor's garden...

I hope. 

If it was, he and his friends were really tasty!

Our family friend, Sparky, asked the other day if I would cook rabbit if he brought some cleaned meat.  Well, sure!  Why not?! How hard could rabbit be? It's stringy, dark meat. Roast the dickens out of it.  Little sauce and spuds...shazaam!....lunch.  

And really, that's all it took. 

I found a recipe on the internet that had been scaled down from a recipe by a chef in Reno, NV, so it gave the impression of being more reputable than, say, one clipped from the back of Backwoodsman magazine. (Those recipes make me nervous. I can never tell if they're a joke or not. Especially when they suggest snipe can be substituted for rabbit or skunk....highly suspect....)

It seemed the only trick was cooking the rabbit for 3 1/2 hours at 350 degrees in a covered roasting pan. 

Hunter's Rabbit

 Ingredients

1/2 cup olive oil
1 rabbit, cut into 6 to 8 portions
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
15 medium-size mushrooms, quartered or sliced
2 shallots, minced
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
Pinch dried thyme
Pinch dried parsley
1 bay leaf
1 cup tomato sauce
1 cup red burgundy wine
1 to 2 cups beef broth
Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

To a large warmed skillet over medium heat, add 1/4 cup of olive oil. Sprinkle the rabbit with salt and pepper, to taste. Add the rabbit to the hot oil and brown on both sides. Remove the rabbit to a medium-size casserole dish.(If you are making a LOT of rabbit, put it in a black enamel roasting pan. And stick that bad boy in the oven while you go on to the next part; a little extra roasting won't hurt it.)

In that same skillet, over medium heat, add more olive oil. Add the mushrooms and shallots (AND 2 T minced garlic cloves) and saute for about 2 minutes (or until the onions are nearly caramelized...it'll be all right). Transfer the mushroom mixture to the casserole. Sprinkle the flour, thyme, parsley and the bay leaf over the rabbit and stir in the tomato sauce, wine, and the beef broth.(OOOOKKAAYY...just put the flour and spices in a bowl, pour the wine and broth over them and wisk until smooth. Really. It's a better method. Then pour the whole mess over the meat.) You may add a pinch more of salt and pepper if you wish. Cover with foil and put in the oven to bake until the rabbit is tender, stirring every hour (Don't bother stirring...just roast the heck out of it. It will work! I promise!), about 2 to 3 hours. Rabbit meat should pull off easily from the bone with a fork. Remove from the oven and serve. (Preferably over mashed potatoes, because the broth is to die for...)

This recipe was provided by professional chefs and has been scaled down from a bulk recipe provided by a restaurant. The Food Network Kitchens chefs have not tested this recipe, in the proportions indicated, and therefore, we cannot make any representation as to the results.

Recipe courtesy Frank Vargas, chef at Louis' Basque Corner in Reno, NV.

I forgot to take pictures of the finished product! A doubled recipe served one intrepid young girl, two bottomless pits of men, and one rather worried cook, with only enough leftovers for a small evening warm over for one person.  

We'll certainly be making this again, and are thinking of using....oh, I don't know....duck?

  

Crazy Cukes

This is going to seem ridiculous in its simplicity, and you'll wonder why I'm even posting such a recipe because surely I'll remember it until I die, but I wanted to share it.  Kind of like a dumb joke that you can't keep to yourself.  Or something.  

I started making this when I tried a recipe for Korean Tacos made from beef short ribs, which I always have an overabundance of and no real inspiration for using them.  The tacos were amazing (yes, I'll post that recipe later) but the cucumbers were what we couldn't keep out of!  

Paper thin slices of 1 cucumber mixed with paper thin slices of red onion, a good splash of sweet-and-tangy rice vinegar, salt and pepper to taste...shazaam!...fresh pickles you'll be hiding from your family and lying about the existence of.  And you won't even be ashamed of it.  

For those of you needing more specific measurements, let's say:

1 cup of paper thin sliced cucumber

1/2 cup of paper thin sliced red onion

1/8 cup of sweet and tangy rice vinegar

1/2 tsp salt

Four grinds of fresh ground pepper (or more to taste)

Toss in bowl and let sit for 5 minute if you can bear waiting that long. 

These are exceptionally good on roast beef sandwiches.

And if the bowl empties in 10 minutes, just add more cukes and onions to the brine...no problemo!

Grownup Macaroni and Cheese

Or, as the rest of the world calls it...Alfredo.

My kids used to be mac and cheese lovers, but their tastes have refined a little and now they prefer noodles with homemade Alfredo sauce.  It's still creamy and cheesy but not so in-your-face, I think.  About a year ago, I found an Alfredo recipe that keeps us licking the pan long after the noodles are gone...and last night, it occurred to me that it's one I should put on the blog because it's probably one I'll want someday when I'm in, say, Florida or someplace, and at least if it's in the Chronicles I'll be able to locate it.

I didn't take a picture because we ate it like starving Italians.  Besides, it's just creamy white sauce on white noodles...how exciting is THAT in a photo?  The sauce, however, IS exciting.  And simple.  You'll be wrecked for Alfredo sauce anywhere else after this, I think.  (It's the ultimate comfort food...soft, creamy, starchy, garlicky, smooth. If you have a rough day, whip up some Alfredo and all will be better.)

Alfredo Sauce

1. In a sauce pan on low heat, melt 1/4 cup butter (1/2 stick) and add a good heaping teaspoon of crushed or minced garlic from a jar. (If you're the ambitious type and like to go to all the work of mashing your own garlic, use maybe a clove and a half.  What the heck, use 2!)  When the garlic starts smelling warm and sweetish....

2. add 1 cup of heavy whipping cream to the butter/garlic and slowly heat it for about 5 minutes....until it's really warm but not boiling because next you'll...

3. whisk in to the warm cream/butter/garlic mixture about 1 1/2 cups of grated parmesan cheese.  (If you don't have fresh, one of those bags or containers of pre-grated will work just fine. That's what I use and it just requires a little more whisking, that's all.) Stir constantly over low heat (preferably still with your whisk) until the parmesan has melted and smoothed into the cream.  I usually add a little fresh grated pepper here, but you do what you want.

Pour over noodles of any shape or size, stir to cover every little inch of them, serve immediately.  We had ours with rigatoni noodles last night and the big opening caught and held more sauce than regular noodles, so each bite was full of creamy love.  

You'll want to have some crusty bread to clean up any sauce left in your bowl.

Then, when nobody is looking, lick what you can from what's left after the bread treatment. 

That's it.  You're a rock star! 

Food Fad

It seems that every year the cooking world jumps on a vogue food as though they JUST DISCOVERED IT even though it's been around for ages, lurking in culinary shadows and refrigerators.  I noticed this when I started reading Gourmet and then Bon Appetit magazines.  One year it was kale...we had kale chips, kale in stew, kale salads, kale baked, kale boiled, kale in smoothies, kale pasta (remember Forrest Gump's list of shrimp dishes?  Just like that.), Kale was the "It" ingredient. There was a good run on roasted red peppers for a while, asparagus had her day, bacon never really goes out of style but it got a little tedious, Greek yogurt had pretty good billing for some time, too.  

I think in my mom's day, it was cream cheese. Brilliant. Now THERE'S a food fad I can get behind!

That was before everyone got food religion and started cleaning up their cholesterol, thus prompting the vegetable fads.

This year (and I'm gagging as I type), it's cauliflower.  

People are MAD for it!  

They're making pseudo-mashed potatoes out of the stuff, pizza crusts, crackers, soups, salads, dips...

It's nuts!  

And it makes me throw up.

I'm allergic to cauliflower.

(And no, it doesn't matter how it's prepared...even if you have a super-secret wonderbun recipe from your granny, my body will reject it.)

(No offense to your granny.)

Even the smell...ugh.  

My kids will have to get it from some other mom (preferably across the county from me), because that vegetable is not entering the house. 

I'm getting really nervous about potlucks, now, and even look the jello salads over pretty good before taking any.  EVEN JELLO could be contaminated!  It's so popular on Pinterest that there's almost a cult following..."Look at this fudge! My kids will never know there's cauliflower in it!" and everyone applauds.  It's inescapable. 

I was so happy to get Bon Appetit this month and see my old friend, kale and his sidekick swiss chard!

There were at least four recipes with cabbage in them....perhaps we're moving on to a new food fad.

Oh, please...oh, please...

  

Adventures in Sourdough

I know.
Some people have adventures in Abu Dhabi or Greece.  I have adventures in sourdough.  It's cheaper and more accessible, but I'm finding it takes approximately the same time frame as those other adventures.

In order to have a sourdough loaf by Friday, I have to start last Sunday.
Seriously!

Here's the wording off the envelope of starter:
*ahem*

Place water, flour and culture in the bowl; mix until smooth, then cover with plastic wrap and let rest for 24 hours in warm draft free place.

Okay...good enough....I expected the starter to take a while.

NOW...to make the bread:
Take a portion of the "mother sponge" and put it in a bowl.  Feed it (add 1/2 cup water, 1/2 cup flour) and let it rest for 6-8 hours at room temperature.

After the baby sponge is all happy and restored, add the remaining ingredients to it, mix until smooth, then let it rest for 6-8 hours. (We're about 42 hours into the recipe and all I've got is some well-fed, well-rested baby sourdough.)

On floured surface, shape the loaf and place it in a greased pan, cover with plastic wrap AGAIN and....wait for it....let it rest for 4-6 hours until doubled in size.  (I would HOPE it would grow...I mean, my goodness!...48 hours of this pampering!)

Finally I get to bake the loaf in a hot oven that has carefully been prepared with steam so its little crust will be just so...for about 40 minutes.

That's right, folks.
FIFTY HOURS from start to finish!

But wait.
There's more.

The directions also say:
(I'm not making this up.)
Think of the Mother Sponge as sort of a pet; you want to feed it (recommended twice a day) and let it acclimate to its environment.
The Mother Sponge will become more sour when held at room temperature and fed often.

The tricky thing about this sour Mother Sponge is that she really stinks.  REALLY stinks.  Last night, when I was caring for Her Royal Spongie-ness, making sure she was fed and acclimated, Angus said "Mom!  I think the cat pooped in the house!"
Um...
Actually, no...but you pegged the odor, kid.

The one loaf I managed to produce was pretty good.  Not 50 hours and twice daily feedings to the Mother Sponge good, but pretty good.  I'm not sure what to do, now, though.  Should I give baby sponges away to my friends, as one would with kittens?  Or would it be more appropriate to give them to people I DON'T like? (As one would with kittens?)  Bake it all up and never go there again?  Bury it?

Who needs to go abroad, when such thrills can be had in one's own kitchen?

Batching it...

Extreme luxury, for me, is when the Farmer and kids are gone (once in a blue moon) for lunch and I can prepare whatever my heart desires.  I've never understood women who look around, find themselves alone and pour a bowl of Yucky Charms cereal.  "I don't have to cook!", they say defensively.  No, you don't HAVE to cook, but you MAY cook...whatever in the world you've been longing for.

You see, as a wife and mom, I plan meals trying to suit the tastes of my family (within reason), our activities (lots of physical work means sturdier fare), even the weather.  I attempt to get the food groups in, make sure the meals are decently healthy, and that there are no onions that can be seen with the naked seven year old eye.  It's a big job, three times a day, 350 days a year at least.

When I'm alone, I don't HAVE to cook, either.
But it's on those days that I joyfully take stock of what my palate has been longing for that no one else would enjoy or be satisfied with and prepare myself the good stuff.

Today, it was a big ugly salad.
(Don't stop reading here! When I say, "salad", I'm talking about a bowl of food that has lettuce as a garnish, really.  Stick with me!)

I'm alone, so I don't have to hurry to get it on the table in time.  I don't have to get it to the table at all, truth be told.

I begin by setting the mood...
Pour a small glass of Chardonnay. (Horrors! It's only 11:00 a.m.!)
Find a Sophia Loren movie about treasure hunting in the Greek islands...yep, that will do.  It was almost a French subtitled movie, but I like Sophia's voice.  The whole point of it is to have something on that no one else in the family would tolerate any other time.  It's my meal!  It's my soundtrack!

Already it's fun, isn't it?

I take out a huge bowl for the salad.  I won't make the salad to fit the bowl, but I want room to toss and swirl and shake up the whole mess.  Salads that j-u-s-t barely fit in the bowl are very annoying to me and I don't need that sort of stress when I'm making this soul meal.

I make a little pillow of lettuce and cabbage in the bottom of the bowl to welcome the rest of the ingredients. Cabbage has a more satisfying crunch and stronger flavor which makes the salad seem a little more substantial.
Also, it will hold up under all the other good stuff, where lettuce alone sort of gives up and wilts a bit.

Cold things to add on top of the greens?  Today I had green onions, orange bell pepper, poblano pepper, and pinapple.  I've been eating carrots and tomatoes out of the garden, so they're sort of...ordinary.  The orange bell pepper looks pretty against the other green-y things and makes me smile.

Here's where it gets sort of wild.
Here's where my heart does a happy little flitter...these next steps are what make this salad "ugly", but in a magnificent way.

I get out a big non-stick frying pan and plop a good dollop of real butter in the bottom.  While that's melting, I add some chopped garlic (from a jar in the fridge) and a liberal amount of powdered chipotle chili pepper.  And shake a little salt, for good measure. From the freezer, I pull out the hoarded shrimp that's already been deveined and cooked...and I toss about 6 or 7 in with the spicy butter.  They'll saute and soak up the flavor while I have a couple sips of wine and move on to the next step.

(Sophia is working two different treasure hunters against each other to her advantage and I do believe she's making nearly as much progress as I am with my salad...)

I take out another, smaller non-stick frying pan and in this one goes the bacon bits (I had to use the Kirkland ones, but usually have a little pre-cooked bacon in the fridge) and the French's french fried onions.  I turn the burner up and toast the little morsels of goodness until both are nice and crispy and smell heavenly.  These I dump on the greens, then use the same pan to toast up the sliced almonds.

While the almonds are toasting, I take the sweet little shrimps out of their butter bath and add them to the ever-growing "salad".  (If you make this, you'll want to save the spicy shrimp butter to dip your sourdough toast in. It's amazing...)

I scatter the almonds over the whole thing, then get my vinaigrette out of the fridge to finish this project.  First thing in the week, I made a simple dressing of olive oil, vinegar and sweet red chili sauce (the kind you find in the Chinese cooking aisle at the grocery store). Shake it up, pour it over all, then take my fork and stir the salad up until it's all messy and pretty.

Then, I pour a leetle more Chardonnay in my wine glass, take my meal to the living room, sit cross legged on the couch, watch Sofia dive for a dolphin statue and eat my salad.  (She obviously eats salads with more lettuce and less bacon...poor thing.)

The whole thing takes about an hour...a really wonderful hour, when I think about it.  I'm too full for the spicy butter and toast, so I save that for later.  It will be a happy reminder of the meal I made for myself.

*Note, here, on salads.  When I make a salad for myself, I usually end up with a funny balance of sweet, spicy, crunchy, salty, both clean and complex flavors.  I realize though, that sometimes one of the most comforting things is simplicity.  If your life has felt out of control and you're tired of complex things, one of the nicest salads would be a wedge of iceburg lettuce and a favorite creamy dressing poured over the top.  That would be happy soul-food, too.

*I DIDN'T take a picture because if you want to make this sort of salad for yourself, you shouldn't be trying to make it look like mine.  Perhaps you'd put the crunchy fried onions and bacon on the bottom.  Maybe you'd grill chicken instead of using shrimp.  You might drink milk instead of white wine.  Whatever rattles your can...

Now that Sophia has landed the treasure, her man and my wine glass is empty, I need to go clean up the kitchen so it looks like I didn't eat anything but a p.b. and j. for lunch when the family gets back....

Day 27: Post Your Favorite Recipe

It's impossible to say what my favorite recipe is, but I'll post one that I love, one of my comfort foods.

It comes from my friend Anne, whose family made Vermont Maple Cookies for Christmas when she was growing up.  I invited her to come make cookies with me in preparation for one of our Dutton Cookie Days and she brought this recipe with her.  We had Vermont Maple Cookies EVERYWHERE, because we decided to double the batch and hadn't really looked at how many the original made...4-5 dozen, depending on how big you make them.  Cookies on every surface.  And in the background, Veggie Tales with the classic (and never to be forgotten to Anne) "If It Doesn't Have A Tail, It's Not A Monkey" song.  I think we had to make something like 3 batches of frosting and by the time we were finished, we were hot, sticky and giggly from the effort...or maybe from the sugar high.

They were a BIG hit at Cookie Day!  Imagine, if you will, cookies that taste like itty-bitty maple bars.  Bite sized maple bars. Except better, because they're all maple-y and not deep fried.  

I'll give you a moment, here, to wipe the drool off your computer keyboard...

Rather than just type the recipe, I scanned the copy I have, complete with stains and splotches and notes.  

Day 21: Your Ten Favorite Foods

Who came up with this list, anyway???

Obviously, it was someone with a neat purse, nearly empty (and spotlessly clean) refrigerator who glances in the mirror and says, "My smile is my best feature.  I must go, now, and use my lottery winnings to fulfill my bucket list...", proudly sweeping out of the room with her favorite song playing in the background.

Or something.  

How am I to narrow it down to just TEN???

And if I boldly clump all seafood together as one item, will I get kicked out of the challenge?  Because my list of seafood loves, alone, takes care of about six spots right there.

(You can stop reading at #10.  I might just keep listing...)

1. I'm going to do it.  I'm going to say "Seafood" in every form I've ever met.  Scallops, lobster, shrimp, crab, clams, geoduc (pronounced "goo-ee duck")...bring it on.  When I was on the east coast, I think I ate seafood at least twice a day for ten days.  Some days I ate it four or five times.  Or more.  
2. Bacon.  
3. Bread.  I know I should be more specific, but I can't be...it's like the seafood.  One of the most perfect foods in the world is clam fritters at Aunt Carrie's in Rhode Island; bread AND seafood!
4. Cheese.  Stinky cheese, soft cheese, hard-and-crumbly cheese, cream, curds.  *pausing a moment to wipe the drool off my keyboard*
5. Summer tomatoes still warm from the vine.  
6. Lemon ___________ (fill in the blank with anything, but bonus points if you said "Lemon Blueberry Cake")
7. Pasta. (See Bread, Cheese and Seafood)
8. Peanut butter!  Another one of the best meals is a Thai noodle dish with a spicy peanut sauce.  
9. Steak.  
10. Strawberries

My less specific, more honest list is like THIS:

1. Mexican
2. Chinese
3. Thai
4. Greek
5. Southern
6. Italian
7. French
8. Indian
9. German
10. Drive In

I must go prepare lunch, now...

Really!

Day 19: What Do You Collect?

Besides shoes and books?

Cookie cutters.
I have 87 that I use for cookies and another 12 that are play dough designated.

It all started with fish cookies, thanks to the Yost women, and now the cutters just seem to show up...from friends and family, from travels, from second hand stores.

Teapots and flags and states and dog bones and cactus and lips...
I only have two states...Montana and Texas.  What other states really count, anyway, right?  (*wink*)

 High heels and martini glasses, maple leaf and Santa and hearts....

The old fashioned cutters remind me of my grandma and Mom, of the cookies we cut out when we were kids...

There are moose and penguins and lions and flowers and helicopters....

Kitschy 1970's plastic cutters that don't really work all that great, but still make me smile because they're so....1970's, you know?

Kangaroos and bears and cowboys and fish and angels and snowmen and...
yes...
FISH!

A friend recently asked if I had anything musical, like a treble clef or quarter note, and I did not.  BIG gap in my collection!  I also don't have a lighthouse, sasquatch, dinosaur, baseball bat, football, wine bottle or yin-yang.  (So those go on my bucket list, right?)

I really wanted to show you my shoes, because I've added to the collection thanks to a two day half price sale at St. Vincent De Paul thrift store in Miles City.

SILVER SANDALS! 

We won't go near the book collection....

Day 12: What's In Your Fridge?

Okay.

So maybe I should have chosen this as the "Get Out Of Jail Free" day, after all...

But look at all the good produce!

Today for lunch we had cucumbers and grilled corn on the cob and grilled stuffed peppers...richness. 

Tonight is stir fry Szechuan beef and melon.  Peach scones in the morning...

*happy sigh*

Also, I have a jicama that I'm digging around Bon Appetit for ideas for.

You do see tonic water, here.  G &T's with strawberries and lime are wonderful summer cocktails! 

(Anyone want to join me?)

Lunch meat for the Farmer's sandwiches...they're haying like crazy right now, so I pack lots of sandwiches and snacks for him. (So even though I'm no longer packing school lunches, I'm packing field lunches...year round sammies, here.)

I didn't take a picture of the door, but if you had seen it, you'd know we're condiment junkies.

I hope this is almost the end of "bare your life's most embarrassing details"...

Day 6: Your Five Senses Right Now

Because the Farmer is haying and won't join us for lunch, Maggie requested gumbo.  SO...as I sit here in the post meal quiet, I hear the kids playing each in their own rooms, a contented, full-belly murmur.  The smell of bacon, shrimp, onions, tomatoes and spices is still hanging in the air.  

I learned today that gumbo is an amazingly flexible, forgiving dish....I didn't have all the ingredients for any particular recipe, so I slammed all the cookbooks shut and just went to cooking.  I had okra but no sausage, cumin but no file, canned crab, frozen shrimp, little rice...it all came together and as long as the Gumbo Police don't stop by, I think we're good.

I like it when flavors unfold in a food, so the first taste is the high notes, often the tomato or meat...then, the onions, peppers and spices roll out, and it ends on a smoky, soft, what-could-that-be?-I'd-better-have-another-bite sense.  For the gumbo, I browned the rice in butter before actually boiling it and that was the intriguing end essence.  Who knew that toasted rice in a spicy stew would be the trick?  

The kitchen looks like the crazy cook from Sesame Street just had a big party, even though I try to clean up as I go.

 But here's the thing...

I had to render the bacon grease for the roux. 

Chop whatever veggies I could think of to soften in that same roux.

Peel shrimp.

Brown the rice, 

Cook the chicken breast in strips.

Open the canned tomatoes and broth.

And that's the abbreviated list!

All that, to produce THIS:

(I guess you realize that if TOASTBA was still around, there would be some comment about how this looks like the already digested version...)

:)

I'm feeling full and ready for a nap...

After dishes, of course.

Ricotta Gnudi with Pomodaro Sauce: Recipe 4

I really should have prefaced this ENTIRE series with:
You remember, right, that I'M NOT THE PIONEER WOMAN, REE DRUMMOND?!?
Now that you know that I know that you know, there will be a lot less pressure with the photographs.
That's all.

Something else we need to clear up right away before you put in the time reading this post...
I have no idea how to pronounce "gnudi".  I say it with the "g" sound, because if I don't, it sounds a little...risque, if you know what I mean.  If my kids ask, it's "g-nood-ee" or as I told them last night, cheese dumplins with red sauce.

And that's basically all they are!

Here's the Bon Appetit photo, so you know what they SHOULD look like:

Aahhh, yes....charming and rustically elegant.  

Makes you want to turn on some Boccelli and pour a glass of Cabernet, doesn't it?

That's what I wanted to do, when I started the recipe!

I also reminded myself that if it seemed wrong, measure or ingredient-wise, to make my own judgement call.

In the magazine, they give you the gnudi recipe first, but after looking through the whole thing, I realized it would be more logical and calm to make the sauce first and have it simmering, waiting for those dear little dumplins to arrive, so that's how you're going to get the recipe.

Ingredients

• 1 28-ounce can whole peeled tomatoes
• 1/2 cup olive oil
• 2 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1/4 teaspoon sugar
• Kosher salt

Preparation

• Pulse tomatoes with juices in a blender to form a coarse purée. Heat oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add garlic and cook, stirring often, until beginning to brown, about 2 minutes. Add tomato purée and sugar and season with salt. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer gently until sauce is slightly thickened, 10-15 minutes. DO AHEAD: Sauce can be made 3 days ahead. Cover and chill, or freeze for up to 3 months.

Read More http://www.bonappetit.com/recipes/2013/02/quick-pomodoro-sauce#ixzz2JaXqWg4h

It smells cozy, it looks impossibly Italian....

you'll want to pour another glass of wine before you continue, in celebration of your brilliant sauciness and also to fortify you for the dumplin' process. 

(I was generous with the salt and it was a good thing; otherwise, the pomodoro is sorta...flat.  Also, and this is my own judgement call, it would have been a little richer with a glug of red wine, but I was trying to follow the spirit of the recipe.)

Here's the recipe for the ricotta gnudi:

Ingredients

• 16 ounces ricotta (about 2 cups)
• 1 large egg, beaten to blend
• 1 large egg yolk, beaten to blend
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 cup finely grated Parmesan or Grana Padano plus more
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt plus more
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour plus more
• 3 cups Quick Pomodoro Sauce (click for recipe)
• 
  

Preparation

• 
  Mix ricotta, egg, egg yolk, pepper, 1/2 cup Parmesan, and 1/2 teaspoons salt in a large bowl until well combined. Add 1/2 cup flour; stir just until combined and mixture forms a ball (mixture will be soft and moist with some bits of ricotta remaining; add more flour by the tablespoonful if it feels wet).  
• Dust a rimmed baking sheet generously with flour. Using 2 large soup spoons, shape heaping tablespoonfuls of dough into football shapes; place on baking sheet and dust with more flour (you should have 30).
• Cook gnudi in a large pot of boiling salted water, stirring occasionally, until cooked through and tender, 5-6 minutes (gnudi will quickly float to surface; continue cooking or gnudi will be gummy in the center).
• Using a slotted spoon, divide gnudi among bowls. Top with Quick Pomodoro Sauce and more Parmesan.

Read More http://www.bonappetit.com/recipes/2013/02/ricotta-gnudi-with-pomodoro-sauce#ixzz2JaZ9fGHh

I used the Parmesan cheese and ended up adding quite a lot more flour.  I think they should say, "The dough will be the approximate consistency of chocolate chip cookie dough, before you add the chocolate chips.", but I'm guessing that would be (and may have been) edited out.  Pity.  

Also...here's a little something you should know...it's IMPOSSIBLE to make football shapes of gnudi dough with two tablespoons.  Spare yourself the frustration and just plop the portions on the cookie sheet; you can go back and roll them between your palms as you drop them in the boiling water.  

These are the little dumplin's after having been mixed, plopped and rolled.  They're waiting their turn in the hot bath!

They look happy, don't you think?

They made ME happy, because I could smell warm cheese, noodles and brilliant Italian red gravy...mmm!

I served them as they cooked, so everyone could have fresh love in a bowl!

The Farmer gamely ate his bowl, then dug around for the leftover cinna-ribs in the refrigerator. Can you believe it?

Maggie ate ONE and requested the leftover homemade chicken noodle soup from lunch. Ouch!

Angus...dear boy...could tell this was not turning out the way I had pictured it, so HE tried it...

...ate it all gone and asked if I'd please put some in his lunch tomorrow because he liked it that much!

(Turns out, he was being a good sport, too.  The kid has a future in politics, I'm afraid...)

I loved the gnudi and the sauce.  And I'm not just saying that!  

It was warm, cheesy, peppery and soft, covered with sauce that is deceptively simple but tastes very authentic.  I sent some to my friend, Joni, and we'll see what her verdict is....