#Reverb13 is a prompt-a-day series for the month of December that is meant to give participants the chance to reflect on the past year and take the opportunity to write down some hopes for the coming year.
Prompt 14: What was the best meal you had in 2013? Was it slurped standing over the kitchen counter? Was the menu written in a language you understood? Were you alone? Or at a table filled with family and friends?
I'm not sure that there was one full meal that was "The Best." So many delicious foods and so many delicious meals. We've been fortunate to break bread with friends and family throughout the year.
So instead of a one best, here's my look at The Best Of, broken into categories.
Best single plate: braised pork belly over julienned cucumbers, mangoes, and carrots
Favorite Better-Than-the-Restaurant Meal - street tacos with pork belly, cabbage slaw, avocado, and cotija cheese with jicama-cucumber salad
Most of these meals weren't really "special occasions," but rather for simple meals with friends/family or "let's go out for a bite." Good food, regardless of the company, is good food, but it's the company that makes good food The Best.
#Reverb13 is a prompt-a-day series for the month of December that is meant to give participants the chance to reflect on the past year and take the opportunity to write down some hopes for the coming year. Prompt 8: Did you go on an adventure in 2013? What sort? ADVENTURE (according to Merriam Webster) ad-ven-ture noun \əd-'ven-chur\ 1. a. an undertaking usually involving danger or unknown risks b. the encountering of risks <the spirit of adventure> 2. an exciting or remarkable experience <an adventure in exotic dining> 3. an enterprise involving financial risk
Reverb is turning out to be an exercise in redefining those words that I'd thought were already defined. Challenge. Victory. Adventure. To be able to make those words applicable to my workaday, everyday life is...refreshing in its own right. We tend to think - not incorrectly - that adventure takes place in faraway places and require runaway boulders or ancient treasures. But in all reality, anything that is, as the second bullet above notes, exciting or remarkable, can be an adventure. And I hope that all my friends and readers have experienced something exciting, remarkable, and new this year. If they didn't, I hope that 2014 holds many of them.
An argument could be made that my running has been an adventure this year. But I think I've already talked about that plenty, and I'm sure that the opportunity will arise for me to talk about it again (and again...).
Because Going on An Adventure also means Board the Hound and maybe even Find a Weekend Sitter for the Kid, adventures aren't commonplace in the Philistines household. But in the past few years, Husband and I have started to make our anniversary weekend as an opportunity for some sort of adventuring, even if it's just a restaurant in town that we haven't tried yet.
This year, I insisted that we once again take up what we had enjoyed while we were in Michigan, and go away for our anniversary. While we lived in the Mitten, we drove up to Traverse City (if only for the day) and spent a long weekend in Chicago. We also spent one anniversary in Washington, DC, while Husband was working in an externship for the district. Less footloose and fancy free now, this year, we drove up to Jerome.
Like many rural towns in Arizona, Jerome came into being as a mining town. There were copper in them thar hills! But, like many other mining towns, Jerome's renaissance has really come and gone, and today, it's hard to imagine that it once was the fourth largest city in the entire Arizona territory. It's now known more for its "ghost town" tourism, for, like other mining towns, many sites, including the Jerome Grand Hotel (which used to be the hospital), are considered to be haunted, which attracts paranormal hunters as well as artists of all kinds.
I admit: I love ghost hunting shows. I watch... most of them. Husband, on the other hand, scoffs at the mere idea of the paranormal, so I knew if we were going to spend a weekend in Jerome, I needed to make sure that we were NOT there to be amateur ghostbusters. This proved hard for me to plan, since the Jerome Grand Hotel offers a ghost hunting PACKAGE. Be still my beating heart. To make sure I didn't cave to temptation, I opted to stay at a bed and breakfast "downtown" instead of the hotel. And thankfully, the Verde Valley in Arizona has one more thing that we both enjoy to offer - vineyards.
As such, we dropped off the hound at the doggie hotel, dropped HRH off at my mother-in-law's, and headed north.
Just as a note - the weekend we were in Jerome, a lightning-sparked fire started outside the town of Yarnell, a fire which ended up taking the lives of 19 of the Granite Mountain Hotshots, a team of 20 firefighters who had special training in fighting wildfires. As we drove to Jerome, we saw dozens of lightning strikes, which at the time, were as beautiful as they were frightening. Arizona, as a desert state, suffers many wildfires each year, and I am grateful to those who risk - and sacrifice - their lives to fight these fires.
Our first stop was Page Springs Cellars, which is in Cornville. Not totally on the way to Jerome from the Phoenix Metro Area, but not that far out of the way, either. The tasting room offered nibbles on the patio, and once we were finished, we took our glasses and meandered through the vineyard.
Easy way to drive your spouse crazy:
say "It's a party with Havarti."
Every time you eat Havarti cheese.
This was my first time as an adult spending time in a vineyard. The last time I'd been to one, as a pup at the Ste. Michelle winery north of Seattle, I was scratched by a squirrel. (my dad has suggested I try to feed the damn things). Walking, with no timeline, through quiet rows of grapevines, glass in hand, no rodents in sight, was therapeutic.
But since you can't spend the night in a vineyard (I mean, I suppose you can, but I have a feeling that it's frowned upon), so we eventually made our way back to the car, the proud owners of a few new bottles of wine.
Now, Jerome itself is tiny. One can see everything (I am not exaggerating - EVERYTHING) in town over the course of a long weekend. And we did. We went to the different tasting rooms (I was saddened that the Jerome Winery tasting room, where my mom and I had gone last year, was closed), walked to the state park - housed at the Douglas Mansion - and back (apparently, not too many people walk to the museum, less than a mile from our B&B, as we got plenty of odd stares from passing cars), lunched with different Arizona beers, and had our anniversary dinner at the Jerome Grand Hotel (sadly, I didn't see any ghosts while we were there - maybe next time).
Grand Hotel to the left - the rest of Jerome to the right
The town of Jerome was named after the uncle of Winston Churchill
Beer in a mason jar - even more refreshing
(the beer was from Nimbus Brewing in Tucson)
Flight from Caduceus Cellars and Merkin Vineyards,
owned by Tool's Maynard James
The view from the Jerome Grand Hotel's steps
The view at dinner.
The rusted out car at the bottom was, at one time, a gorgeous model.
Our last morning offered time only for breakfast before we headed back down the hill to Phoenix. Jerome itself is on a hill, and that combined with the less than stellar Arizona soil, not much variety grows in Jerome. However, apricot trees were in full fruit, and our last stop, the Flat Iron - one of the smallest restaurants into which I have ever set foot - offered these amazing waffles with freshly made apricot compote.
Husband was, truthfully, reluctant at first to head out of town for the weekend, especially to a place where he feared I might geek out over the possibility of ghost spectating. But as we drove home, exultant and appreciative of being able to spend a weekend together as a reminder of why we got married in the first place, we started talking about where we can go and what we can do next June for anniversary 12, and he was just as engaged in the idea sharing as I was.
Certainly, then, 2014 will host at least one more adventure for the books.
Over the last few months, I've realized that I've kind of plateaued in my attempt to get rid of some of that "stubborn belly fat" that all those commercials for wonder supplements and crazy workout DVDs love to talk about. It's not stubborn. It's an unwelcome guest, and I'm kind of tired of it having way overstayed its welcome.
So I've been looking at how I can step it up. Not just so I can more easily slip into a pair of pants, but also so that I know I'm healthier.
For a long while, I've really reduced my meat consumption. I really really really don't care for chicken. When I was pregnant with HRH, it was a huge aversion to me, so much that when I tried to buy some of those pre-cooked strips for the Husband at the store one day, my knees buckled and I thought I was going to pass out. Ever since, I can only handle it if it's REALLY well made, and I have to REALLY want it. I also have tried to cut down on red meat, especially because of the many links between red meat consumption and a greater risk of colon cancer (among others).
And I like most vegetarian protein sources. I love beans. I really like tofu. Quinoa is great. Tempeh - meh (see what I did there?); that's really the one thing that I've had that I didn't really care for.
But nothing seemed to be working.
I decided, then, to take a week and try a modified paleo plan. I say modified because I did use a "paleo for runners" approved foods list, which includes more starchy veggies like sweet potatoes and squash. Apparently a non-runners paleo diet doesn't allow for them.
Basically, the paleo diet is, from what I understand, supposed to mimic the ingredients that our very ancient, probably much hairier forefathers would have eaten. Of course, this means no processed foods, but it also nixes all grains, dairy, and sugars (although some sites allowed maple syrup and honey because those were natural sugars, and I can totally imagine an early Homo sapiens risking life and limb for a handful of honey like he were some Ice Age Winnie the Pooh). Probably the most restrictive aspect for me, though was that it didn't allow for legumes or beans. Even though I love me some rice and white breads, rarely a week goes by that I don't have beans with at least two meals. But I was determined to try this to rev up my body's vacationing fat burning abilities.
I created a meal plan for the week and headed to the grocery store.
First of all, holy sticker shock, Batman! I haven't actually bought meat that wasn't turkey necks for Zooey or bacon in a really long time, apparently, because when I picked up a small package of ground beef, I thought I was going to have to take a second mortgage out on the house. Yikes.
I admit that on top of my mandate that I would still be enjoying my morning coffee with half-and-half and cinnamon sugar, I did "cheat" during one meal. One of my friends and I had lunch, and I had a beer. Beer, as you know, is made from grains - gluten-y grains - so it's waaaaaaaay up on the Verboten Items List. But I also don't want to be that person who puts the kibosh on every restaurant suggestion because it doesn't work for my super restrictive diet plan. "Oh, no, that place doesn't work for me. I can't eat anything that casts a shadow past 1:00 in the afternoon on Tuesdays."
Interestingly enough, that evening, I felt TERRIBLE. Like you might right before you get sick. Achy, tired, tempting fate by trying to NOT get a headache. Just...blah. And then I got cranky because I didn't feel well, so it wasn't the most pleasant evening.
I can't say with absolute certainty that this was all caused by the grains. But it was interesting nonetheless.
At the end of the week, I knew that this plan isn't for me. That isn't to say it's a terrible idea. I really like certain aspects of it. But I think that it's more of a diet than a lifestyle for me at this point in my life, and restrictive diets never work.
What I DO think I can take out of this experience is that I don't necessarily need to embrace the red meat again, but I can bid a fond farewell to grains more easily than I thought. And that's where I think I can improve my eating habits. While I'll be welcoming beans back to my diet very soon (hello, Cuban dinner plans), I'm not sure that I'll be so quick to nab a loaf of bread to go along with them. I'd love to experiment with gluten-free grains and work to reduce the amount of corn-based products I consume. While I didn't weigh myself at all this week, I do feel less full around the middle, even though I've felt like I've eaten a lot more than I usually did.
One big success is that I was able to stick to my meal plan. I made it a lot more simple and relied a great deal more on leftovers for lunch and dinner repeats, and I think that's where I've gone off the rails before. I'm hoping to be more consistent with that as well.
Where have you been successful in modifying your food lifestyle to make healthy changes? What are you willing to "give up"? What are non-negotiables for you?
It might not officially be summer, according to the calendar, but once we hit 100° here in Phoenix, it's summer. Period.
Summer means many things to many people: lemonade, picnics, maybe vacation. A few of the things it means for us is "Ugh, what can I make that doesn't involve the oven?" and "I guess I can make something on the stove if it doesn't take too long."
Of course, with The Husband working late some nights, summer also means for me "What is fast and easy and not that messy but that I don't have to heat up the house to make?"
Enter summer salads.
This particular beauty was inspired by Kat, who, for several days this past month, was texting us about her "regular" lunch of strawberry, mango, and avocado salad. My mouth was watering, and I knew that would be a perfect starting point. When I realized that I still had some delicious black rice in the pantry, I had a winning combination.
This salad is ridiculously simple, and it's easy to change up the ingredients as you have them. And unless you want to add a sprinkling of feta (which I have twice in the five times I've made it), this healthy recipe is vegan as well as gluten-free.
Black Rice Summer Salad
1/2 cup black rice (you could probably sub any long grain rice if you can't get the black rice)
1 ripe mango (or a ripe peach/nectarine - also amazing)
1 ripe avocado
2 green onions (or a shallot or red onion)
red wine vinegar
olive oil
salt
cracked black pepper
Cook the rice according to package directions. If you need to, drain out any remaining water before tossing with the onions, chopped fairly fine, and the oil and vinegar (to taste - I only used about 2 Tbsp of each).
Cut up the avocado and mango into bite sized pieces and toss in with the rice. The rice should still be a little warm, which will make the avocado get a little melty.
Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately or chill for later - this recipe serves one as a meal or two as a side. It's delicious any way you try it.
The Theme Weavers have gotten back together for a week chock full of ooey-gooey goodness, so I hope that you brought your sweet tooth and are stocked up on butter.
As a kid, I wasn't a fan of caramel. This may be shocking to you, but bear in mind that what I knew as caramel were those horrid store bought too-chewy caramel candies. It was only when I got older that I discovered the diversity of truly good caramels and caramel sauces. Then I was introduced to salted caramel, and my world changed.
To be perfectly clear, anyone who says that salted caramel has jumped or will jump the shark and I can NOT be friends. Salted caramel is not a fad. It is a balanced flavor Way of Life.
As much as I love the salted caramel cupcakes at TopIt Cupcakes, the salted caramel apple pie I made for Thanksgiving (two years in a row) by Four and Twenty Blackbirds, and Megan's salted caramel sauce that I have been adding to my Greek yogurt for this entire last week, when we planned caramel week, I knew that I needed to do something that wasn't a dessert.
Partly because I wanted to be "practical," and partly because it was a great excuse to have our friend Dani over for dinner two weeks in a row (she's coming over next week for our Kentucky Derby themed dinner), but mostly because I knew that if I made a dessert, I would end up eating The Entire Thing. And that's not really working with my current plan of eating better right now.
Enter pork.
Pork is a fantastic partner with caramel; it lends itself to a variety of sweet-ish fruit pairings well, so I knew that working with a pork tenderloin would be the way to go.
Now, let's backtrack for a second to take a closer look at my love of salted caramel. That it is salted is what makes it genius. That salt balances out the sweetness of the caramel, which can sometimes be cloyingly overpowering. Yes, salt can enhance the sweetness of sugary goods (this is why we add it to baked goods), but in enhancing it, that sweetness is tamed. Simply put, more taste buds are able to come to the party in your mouth.
What I wanted to have, then, was an even bigger party, one in which all the taste buds were mingling and jumping fully clothed into the pool. I had my salty and sweet, so I was on a mission to bring in the sour, bitter, and umami.
The perfect balance, I found, was a peppercorn-crusted pork tenderloin over a shaved brussels sprouts and apple salad, all drizzled with a soy-caramel sauce.
But first, in the spirit of Theming All the Things and because appetizers, baked brie with apples, hazelnuts, and tamari-caramel sauce.
If you haven't made baked brie, run - don't walk - to the store, get yourself the best brie you can possibly find, and do this. You're welcome.
All you have to do is plop that wheel onto a baking sheet (the rind is edible), poke a few holes in the top with a sharp knife or fork, put it in a 350° oven, and bake to melty deliciousness. Then sprinkle whatever you want on top. In this case, you're seeing some apples that were sauteed in a touch of butter and cinnamon sugar and some of those roasted hazelnuts. All of this was topped with that modification of Megan's salted caramel sauce I mentioned earlier (I used a tamari syrup instead of corn syrup and didn't add as much salt at the end).
Perfect on just about anything (or simply conveyed to the mouth on a spoon), we downed this atop gluten-free bagel chips and almond crackers.
And now back to the main course.
I followed the recipe for the tenderloin's soy-caramel sauce with only a few modifications:
I didn't add ginger. It has no place in my house.
I went with a red onion. We had a white onion, but the red onion was needing to be used, and we love the flavor that it offers. I chopped it pretty roughly so that we could get some big ol' bites.
I used tamari instead of soy sauce for a fuller, saltier flavor and for the gluten-free option.
I added more mustard. Because mustard.
Since the sauce was a bit thin, even for a dressing, I added a splash of cream and let it simmer while the pork finished roasting.
For the salad, The Husband was kind enough to shave the brussels sprouts finely. In that effort, we decided that the mandolin I bought just for that purpose wasn't intended for brussels sprouts, no matter what the user guide said. However, the experiment with potatoes went well, so I'm certain weekend lunches until the end of time will now include homemade chips/waffle fries. Not complaining.
To the sprouts I added thinly julienned apples that I had tossed in lemon juice (partly to keep from browning and partly to add another sour component) and roasted, chopped hazelnuts. That's it. It was as simple as could be. As the pork rested (roasting in an oven must be exhausting), I drizzled the warm dressing over this so that the sprouts would wilt just slightly. I still wanted the crunch of the green as a contrast to the tenderness of the pork.
Once the pork was rested and sliced, the medallions were plated over the salad, and yet more dressing was drizzled, this time with plenty of those roughly chopped red onions.
This whole plate on a fork at at time is greater than the sum of its parts. When each mouthful has the sprouts, apples, hazelnuts, pork, onions, and sauce, all of the taste buds are engaged. Additionally, the different textures of the sprouts, the pork, the hazelnuts, and sauce (plus the wine/bubbly that we had) all serve to enhance the different elements that lend themselves to a beautiful mouthfeel. Honestly, even though I didn't make dessert (see also: we filled up on brie), this really left us wholly satisfied and craving nothing more.
But if you're still in the mood to satisfy your sweet, tooth, fear not! The rest of the Theme Weavers have whipped up such an amazing array of delicious caramel treats that you'll be setting out the butter and checking your sugar supplies to make all of them.
Yesterday, we introduced the week with some dynamite eats:
Today I'm teamed up with my friend Carrie over at Bakeaholic Mama; she's made some amazing Milk Duds brownies - mmmmm... caramel and chocolate....mmmmm....
And don't miss out on the rest of this week's caramel craziness:
Thursday, do NOT miss Kat's caramel corn sundae at Tenaciously Yours, nor should you miss the butterscotch pudding from the newest player in the Theme Weavers, Christina from Buffy and George. Beka is also back with a luscious red wine caramel sauce.
Finally, Kirsten will be wrapping things up for us on Saturday with a DIY dulce de leche coffee creamer in which I am VERY interested, while Katie of The Hill Country Cook has a salted caramel pie (WHAT!?!?!?).
I hope that you enjoy reading through all of these wonderful recipes as much as I do, and please, let me know - what's your favorite caramel-based recipe to make? If you don't cook with caramel, have you ever had a caramel sump'n-sump'n at a great restaurant? What was it, and where was it?
When I was growing up, my parents had a pasta maker that was, on occasion, hauled out. I was entranced by all its shiny, silvery parts, and I knew that when it made its rare appearance on our kitchen counter, chances were good that the end result was going to be fettucine. Which, in hindsight, probably helps explain my ardor for a truly delicious fettucine alfredo.
I've wanted a pasta attachment for Watson, my Kitchenaid mixer, for quite some time. Actually, I want a shiny, silvery pasta maker of my own, but our kitchen is too small and crowded already, so we certainly don't have need for yet another gadget or gizmo, no matter how pretty and shiny it is (have I mentioned it was shiny?). But we don't have a pasta maker or a pasta attachment.
That hasn't quelled my desire to try my hand at making my own pasta.
On Sunday, I got a wild hair and needed to make that pasta. I had, the night before, made an homage version of my favorite childhood pizza, the Gay 90's Special from Dirty Dave's Pizza Parlor in Olympia, Washington (my hometown). The combination of pepperoni, crumbled sausage, onions, and cashews is something I must have whenever I go back home; it's not negotiable, and usually it's our first stop when we roll into town.
My version was made with soprassata, since I couldn't find any pepperoni, crumbled Italian sausage (which, fortunately, was weak on the fennel), and of course the onions and cashews. It was good, but I"m still working on the recipe before I can call it "perfected."
Anyway, this post isn't about the pizza. The only reason I mention it is that I had a bunch of leftover sausage and soprassata (you try easily finding amounts of each that are appropriate for one homemade pizza; I dare you). Since I'm trying my darndest to toss out as little food as possible, Sunday, as I baked my biscuits, sausage gravy (made with breakfast sausage, not the leftover Italian sausage), and multigrain bread, I was on a hunt to find a recipe that could use both.
At first, I thought I might head out and get some wonton wrappers and make ravioli.
But then, you know, lasagne.
I could make a bolognese with the leftover meats, which would actually be easy; the majority of the time spent making a bolognese is dedicated to the "simmer, stirring occasionally" part of the recipe, so I could do other things.
LIKE MAKE MY OWN PASTA.
I opted for the whole wheat version that is given in my Food and Wine Pasta cookbook (one of the three cookbooks my dad got me as I went off to college). I got out the flours and the extra large eggs for which I made a special trip to the grocery store, took a deep breath, and got to work.
I sifted out the flour.
I made a well.
I cracked the eggs.
I poured the eggs into the well.
I mixed the flour in.
I kneaded.
I kneaded.
And I kneaded some more.
And all the while, my internal dialogue was going "Oh, s***, this dough is SO tough, how is it ever going to be pasta? I'm going to have to go buy a box of pasta. Oh, s***!"
Bear in mind that I was kneading for 10, terrifying minutes.
As time went by, the dough became more workable, more elastic, and I began to breath a little easier. I let it sit as I frantically ran to the store after realizing we were out of Parmesan.
When I got back, I threw a bed sheet over the kitchen table, floured it, and got to rolling.
I rolled and rolled and stretched and rolled and rolled and stretched.
I basically got an upper body workout between the kneading and the rolling, which is another benefit of this process. Rest day, schmest day.
When the pasta was thin enough, I cut it into large-ish rectangles and triangle-like shapes and set them aside until it was time to boil, drain, assemble, and bake.
All rolled out and ready to boil
Y'all. Make. Your. Own. Pasta.
Maybe not every time you want it (it probably won't be worth it on a Wednesday night when all you want is buttered noodles), but seriously, get out your rolling pin and just do it.
First of all, yes, it's time consuming, but it's actually easy. Why was I so terrified? It took two ingredients (OK, technically three since I used two types of flour) and an arm workout, and it was so, so... SO worth it.
Second, it tasted great. I knew that everything would be OK when I boiled the noodles (for three whole minutes), and they smelled like...noodles. I started getting confident when I drained and dried them and got set to make....this:
Layers of bechamel, bolognese, and Parmesan between those noodles
Of course, the true test was to actually taste the finished product.
The Husband went back for thirds. THIRDS!!!!!!! He sometimes gets seconds of whatever we're having, but it is a rare occasion that he goes back a third time, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited. Basically, this is how I see that meal now:
But really, who wouldn't want thirds of this lasagne, loaded down with a garlic-infused bechamel instead of the standard ricotta and a bolognese instead of just "red sauce and meat." Oh, and homemade noodles. A bit thicker than they might have been if I'd been able to roll them through a pasta maker, they had a great chewiness and overall mouthfeel to them that was the best reward for making them instead of calling it in and buying a box.
This was the perfect lasagne.
And it made leftovers.
Lasagne con Ragu alla Bolognese
(adapted from Food and Wine)
For the bolognese:
3 slices bacon or 3 oz pancetta, chopped*
2 Tbsp butter
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 carrot, chopped (I like to use 2)
1 rib celery, chopped (optional; I prefer to leave it out)
1/2 pound spicy Italian sausage (not in casings)
1/2 pound other ground meat (I prefer chorizo or lamb for good flavor)**
1 1/2 cup pinot grigio (or other dry white wine)
2 cups vegetable stock (you can also use chicken stock if you've got it, but I think that the vegetable stock gives the end product a better flavor)
1/2 tsp salt
3 Tbsp tomato paste
1/4 tsp grated nutmeg
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup 2% or whole milk
For the noodles:
1 cup whole wheat flour (if using a pasta maker/attachment, at 2 Tbsp to this amount)
3/4 all-purpose flour or whole wheat pastry flour
3 extra large eggs
For the bechamel:
6 Tbsp salted butter
6 Tbsp all purpose flour
2 cloves crushed garlic
4 cups (1 quart) milk
1/8 tsp grated nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
For assembly:
1 cup (or more) grated Parmesan cheese
*If you freeze your bacon/pancetta/soprassata for about ten minutes before chopping with a very sharp chef's knife, it will be a much easier process.
**I used leftover soprassata, and I used whatever I had leftover, which was not equal to 1/2pound. However, I think that would probably be overpowering, flavor-wise.
In a large saucepan or Dutch oven, cook the bacon/pancetta over medium-high heat until it starts to crisp. Remove and discard all but 2 Tbsp of the fat.
Add the butter and olive oil to the pan over moderately low heat. Once the butter has melted, add the onion, garlic, carrot, and celery (if using) and cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are soft. Add the pancetta back in along with the sausage and our ground meat of choice (even if you are subbing in something like the soprassata that I used). Cook, breaking up the meat, until browned. Add the wine; increase heat to moderately high and simmer until nearly all the liquid has evaporated. Stir in the stock and salt; lower heat to barely simmering and cook, stirring occasionally, until almost all the liquid has evaporated (this will take a few hours if done correctly; use that "free time" to prep the pasta, etc., as well as to grab a snack and perhaps a glass of the wine you used in the cooking). Stir in the tomato paste, milk, nutmeg, and pepper, and simmer for another 15 minutes. Alternately, you can cover the pot and turn the heat to low to keep it on the stove until you need it.
In a large bowl, sift the flours together and make a large well in the center. Whisk the eggs together and pour into the well. With a fork or your clean hands, gradually work the flour into the eggs. Once you have the semblance of a single mass, turn the dough onto a floured surface and knead the dough, sprinkling with more all-purpose flour if it gets sticky, until it forms a smooth, elastic ball (this takes about 10 minutes). Wrap tightly in plastic wrap and set aside for 10-15 minutes to allow the gluten to relax (this makes it easier to roll out; if you're using a pasta machine, you can skip this step and roll it immediately).
Turn the dough out onto a large floured surface (I covered my kitchen table with a clean bed sheet and floured that, since I didn't have a surface that was truly large enough for my needs - then I just tossed the sheet into the wash). You can cut it into pieces to work a smaller piece at a time, if you want.
Roll the dough with a long, narrow rolling pin in a smooth, back and forth motion, giving the dough a quarter turn after every couple of rolls.
Now, ideally, you'll also stretch the dough every so often, starting when it's 1/4-inch thick. You do this by wrapping the top quarter of the dough over the rolling pin, holding it securely with one hand. Then, with your other hand, hold the bottom of the dough in place while you stretch it away from you. Give the dough a quarter turn and repeat 7 times. I was terrified of this and didn't stretch my dough as much as I should have.
Repeat the process of rolling and stretching twice more, until your dough is about 1/16-inch thick. The litmus test is that you should be able to see your hand through the dough (I was still scared I'd rip the dough, so mine wasn't quite as thin).
Cut the dough into large rectangles (I made a few triangles and random quadrilaterals around the edges). Put them on a baking sheet dusted with flour until ready to boil.
In a large saucepan, melt the butter, with the crushed garlic, over moderate heat. Add the flour and cook, whisking constantly, for about 1 minute. Whisk in the milk and bring to a boil, still whisking constantly. Once boiling, reduce the heat and simmer for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in the nutmeg, salt, and pepper. Remove the garlic before using (or, if you're lazy like me, just leave it in - someone will get a tasty surprise, like an edible, garlicky king's cake treat).
Boil a large pot of heavily salted water (Mario Batali's advice is to use water that "tastes like the sea"), and cook the pasta until almost tender, about 3 minutes. Drain and rinse with cold water (usually you don't drain pasta, but since we are making lasagne, all my resources say yes) and dry on tea towels (or paper towels).
Preheat your oven to 350°. Lightly oil (use olive oil) a 9X13" baking dish. Ladle 1/2 cup bechamel over the bottom of the dish. Lay several sheets of the cooked noodles, overlapping slightly, over the sauce. Spread a 1/4 of the remaining bechamel on the pasta. Top this with 1/2 of the bolognese and 1/4 cup of the Parmesan. Repeat these layers. On the top of the last layer of pasta, pour the remaining bechamel and the remaining Parmesan. Bake until bubbly and starting to brown, about 40 minutes.
Let the lasagne rest for about 25 minutes before cutting into squares and devouring. Yes, that's torturous, but this is going to be hot, and you don't want all your carefully prepared layers to go flying all over the place.
The whole process is time consuming, so it's true that for a weeknight, I probably wouldn't go to all this effort, but for a great Sunday supper or when company comes over, I have a feeling that I'll be going the distance.
It actually does get cold in Arizona. Many people don't realize that we have higher elevations (as a Washington State native, I just can't call them mountains, though) that host skiing and other delightful winter activities, and in the winter months, the temperatures up there get downright frigid.
But last week, it was cold all over the state, and I'm not exaggerating; the highs barely hovered in the low 40s, and at night, we dropped into the mid-20s. Signs that it was colder than usual were all around us:
Rose bushes were covered with sleeping bags.
Scarves were seen all over town.
Rarely-used heat seaters were toasting buns all over the Valley.
Bass Pro Shops and Cabela's were beset by panicked citizens clamoring over the last pair of thermal undies.
OK, maybe that last part wasn't real, but I kind of like to imagine people, shivering in their heaviest sweatshirt, clearing out the racks of long johns.
What I do know actually happened is that in Casa de Philistines, we were going to need soup. Lots of it. It would warm us up at dinner time, and the making of it would keep the kitchen nice and toasty as well. So Soup Week came at the most perfect time for us, and I reveled in the joy that was a Dutch oven on a hot burner.
I found the recipe for Arizona Mountain Soup while I was searching for an "Arizona style" soup online. I thought it might be fun to focus my Soup Week contribution on something local. Unfortunately, while a fairly standard recipe can be found all over the internet, I can't find any information as to why it's called Arizona Mountain Soup or how it originated.
I'm horribly disappointed.
I like to imagine that this is a "cowboy" or "wild west" version of minestrone, like some Italian immigrants who came to make their fortune in the west years back were inspired by the southwestern tastes and threw them into the campfire pot.
Yep, I know - I can spin quite a fanciful yarn, but I digress.
This soup beat away the chills easily. I decided to healthify it a touch and add some more fresh vegetables to the original recipe, since why just use onions when you can have meeruhpwamerepoimirepoix?
(OK, French-speaking people, how do you even get that spelling? I'm gonna have to go all phonetically logical German on y'all - Suppengrün - BOOM)
Most Arizona Mountain Soup recipes also call for dried beans that you soak before cooking. Y'all, I have a confession: I can NOT cook dried beans to save my life. Yes. Yes, I know. This should be the simplest thing. But I...just fail. So I used canned beans. And I'm OK with that. For now.
It was fantastic with a side of homemade cornbread, by the way.
Arizona Mountain Soup
2 cans pinto beans, drained and rinsed, OR 1 1/4 cups dried pinto beans
4 slices bacon, chopped*
1 (or 2) onions, chopped
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
3 carrots, chopped
3-4 ribs celery, chopped
1 can fire-roasted tomatoes
1 1/2 cup cooked brown rice
2 cups vegetable or chicken stock (since I don't eat chicken, I used homemade veggie stock)
2 tsp salt (or to taste)
1/2 tsp paprika (or to taste)
1/2 tsp pepper (or to taste)
1/4 tsp cayenne (if you like a little bite, or more, if you like more of a bite)
If using dried beans, soak overnight in 3 cups water. Without draining, simmer until the beans are tender (about 2 hours).
In a large Dutch oven, cook bacon until nearly crisp. Add onions, garlic, carrots, and celery and cook until the veggies are tender. Stir in tomatoes, rice, beans, and spices. Add in the stock and an additional 2 cups water (or more, should you need it - heck, I used a little bit half a bottle of wine that I had lying around). Bring to boiling and then simmer for about 1 hour, stirring occasionally. Season to taste before serving with hot cornbread (which, just as a reminder, MUST be made in a cast iron skillet).
*To make the bacon easier to cut, freeze slightly for a little bit before chopping to bits.
This is a soup that freezes really well, and I have a quart of it taking up some valuable real estate in the freezer, so even though the temperatures have gotten tolerable once again, I may have to haul it out this weekend after our "nature walk" with HRH.
Please take some time to check out the other amazing soup recipes we have going on this week; there is something for everyone, and I am somewhat sad that Arizona is already starting to leave soup season in the rearview mirror.
There you have it - creamy soups, broth soups, sick soups, cold soups, dinner soups, dessert soups, soups for every occasion and every palate.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go turn on the air conditioning so I can have an excuse to put up another batch of one of these amazing ladies' soups right now!
