Sharing is Caring III

When I was looking up speculoos, I came across an article on most useless kitchen tools. I thought it was amusing (but actually it is not a must-read article, I was simply too eager to think about useless kitchen things), because it is true that useless products are created and bought every Christmas/birthday/Mother's Day.

I, myself, have purchased a spoon rest. It's not that useless... although to save myself the trouble of having to clean said spoon rest, I usually just put the spoon on the counter.

So I Went on a Field Trip...

... to the state liquor store on Tuesday. I've been trying to do more cooking recently, and we needed some of the contraband. For Christmas I received the cookbook that the gourmet cook in our community uses - you know the type, every community has one. I found two great recipes I'm going to try this week, one for chicken and one for a beef stew (since it is winter and all). Both of these recipes, however, call for an alcoholic beverage to be added to the cooking solution. Alcohol is a pretty contraband substance for Mormons. Instead of using regular cooking wine and sherry, as my mother is wont to do, we took the advice of our friend and decided to go for the real thing, though. That meant a trip to the State Liquor Store.

I was inordinately excited, because buying liquor is something I've never done before - despite living for a semester in Scotland. I was almost overwhelmed with the choice and selection; I was a babe in the woods. Here was a sign saying "GIN", another scribbled "South African" in handwritten letters. We needed some white wine and some red; because neither of us know what we we're doing, we buy cheap bottles.

I was with my mother, and she didn't get carded. Earlier today, I was making a stew which needed some beer. I got some from the local grocer's, but was a little gutted that the cashier didn't card me.

I should probably stop cooking food that requires alcohol, as I get too much of a kick out of it. Anyway, the food I made tasted alright. Not nearly as much fun as cooking it or buying the alcohol to cook it in.

Snow!

Mom coming over with a shovel to help clear neighbor's driveway.

Olive Oil Makes Everything Better

Dear Audience,

I thought I would put this post in epistolary form. Some of you know my penchant for writing long and unintelligible letters. I have written several postcards, but I haven’t made the effort to figure out where the correo (post office) is, let alone bought sellos (stamps). To make up for that, I thought I'd cover all my bases and write a communal letter.

I must be really bored, because this is the third post for today. I just finished cooking myself dinner (absurdly early by Spanish standards), and I am proud of myself. I was able to conquer the unknown realms of cooking a full meal in a European kitchen! Go me. That may not sound like a feat to you, but for me, it is. Thinking in Celsius, litres, and kilograms instead of the comfort of Fahrenheit, quarts, and pounds. I found a recipe online for rosemary baked chicken yesterday, and I picked up some chicken, potatoes and some spices. When you go to a foreign country, be sure to know the names of any spices you might need. I had no idea what the Spanish word for rosemary is, or if they even have rosemary in Spain. Instead, I improvised and bought some herbs de Provence. I had heard that herbs de Provence makes anything taste good. I’d see if that was true.

I mixed some olive oil, pepper, garlic powder, chili paprika, salt, and the herbs de Provence together. I soaked my potatoes in the mixture for a while then put them on a sheet to bake, then de-skinned my chicken thighs and did the same process. Like any good cook in the Mediterranean climate, I slathered everything with enough olive oil to grease a monkey in a steam pipe.

"Aceite de olivo"

Now, before I continue, I most forewarn you about the scary thing about cooking in Europe: the oven. I recognize this may not be a universal concern, but our oven freaks me out a little. I had tried baking some pre-made frozen food in it a few weeks ago: I followed the instructions on the package (as best I could – they’re in Spanish, Dutch, Italian, and Roumanian, but no common language I could read like English or French) and preheated the oven, and then when enough time had passed, I plopped my dinner onto the tray. My meal started sizzling immediately, which is what one should expect when a cold item touches a hot surface. I closed the oven door, but then a few minutes later, wisps of vapor or smoke started emanating every now and then from the oven. Needless to say, I was troubled. I turned the oven off and let my meal sit a few minutes longer. When it came out, amidst vapor and heat, part of it was burned and not very tasty.

A few days later I had tried baking the same meal, only instead of preheating the oven, I let my meal cook as the oven was warming up. This worked much, much better. No vapor, no parts of the meal burned to a crisp, only happiness.

This go around, I followed the internet instructions and preheated the oven. Ooh, that was a bad idea. I put my potatoes in the oven, and they were fine for about seven minutes. Then the wisps of smoke started coming. I peeked in on my beautiful potatoes, and they were still yellow and starchy – they still needed more time in the oven and I needed to cook my chicken. I turned down the heat, put more olive oil on the potatoes, and threw my chicken in. Then I waited. After about an hour of continuously checking the oven and adjusting the temperature and turning the oven off when the smoke came out too much, the chicken and potatoes were ready.

The potatoes were on the crispy side, and a lot of the chicken fat had burned away, but my meal was darn finger-lickin’ good, if I may say so myself. I could taste the olive oil seeping through the chicken with every bite. To complement my chicken and potatoes, I heated some peas and sliced some bread, and for dessert I finished the stracciatella ice cream I talked about two weeks ago.

What I learned today: olive oil makes everything better. Even if it makes food sizzle and is the original cause of the smoke and vapor, I don’t care.

Sincerely,

Lizzle