Just Two More Meals

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With only two more meals left for Passover 2010, there’s the urge to never eat matzoh again, yet still use it all before its time is up. Matzoh as a cracker isn’t terrible, as I slathered on smoked whitefish salad and pushed raw onion and raw broccoli into the creamy mixture, simply topped with freshly ground black pepper. Matzoh is also tolerable as a base for melted cheese and salsa, as my sister discovered.

But I think matzoh is best when you can barely taste it at all. So, for you, the lonely observant Jews, for when every one else has longed reincorporated pizza and pasta into their diets, you have fought through the carb cravings and lasted until this eighth and final day. Here is a way to hide your matzoh.

Matzoh and Swiss Omelet

A few weeks ago at the farmers’ market I bought these long, slender greens that basically looked like grass. At the ends there was some barely leafy parts, but it mostly just looked like grass. And I totally can’t remember the name.

Nonetheless, I sliced it to about the size of my pinkie nail (currently painted in Essie’s Mint Candy Apple) and quickly softened it in a pan with butter. I then added in broken up matzoh bits, letting the matzoh also soften.

In a bowl I beat two eggs and threw in raw garlic. I poured the egg mixture over the greens and matzoh and tried to swipe around the sides to let the uncooked eggs start to cook. I seasoned the eggs with salt and pepper and then flipped the egg mixture over once the bottom started to firm up. I lowered the heat then tore up two slices of swiss and placed a lid over the pan. After about 2 minutes, the cheese still hadn’t melted and the eggs were starting to brown on the bottom.

I decided to flip it again, letting the cheese directly hit the pan. I was nervous that the cheese would burn, or stick. or the whole thing would get messed up. But I guess the cheese and butter had enough fat that the cheese slid around in the pan and was able to melt, but then also easily move to the plate.

Enjoy, especially not tasting the matzoh, which really only gives the open faced omelet some body and texture, but not that gross matzoh stale taste.

And now you can start thinking (if you haven’t already) how you’re going to break Passover.

I Mention Rachael Ray in this Post

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The Jewish calendar is lunar and therefore Passover can land anywhere between the end of March to the end of April. My birthday is at the end of March, my mom’s birthday is at the beginning of April and my sister’s birthday is at the end of April so it’s a always a hold your breath moment to find out who’s birthday will take place during this dreaded no-bread, no-cake, no-ice cream, no-soft pretzel eight day stretch.

This year it’s so early that this spring themed holiday can’t feature the season’s produce. We usually serve asparagus, but this year we still had to rely on winter’s hold overs. I’m a bit tired of winter squash, as is the rest of the Northeast, I’m sure.

With Passover, though, I wanted to think of something slightly new. Maybe not in flavor, but in form.

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Making the Most out of Manischewitz

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Once again, I am home for Passover. When I was younger I never understood why so many foods were off limits. Sure, bread is bad. No toast, bagels, challah. I get it. But gum? Peanut butter? Mustard? I knew that corn syrup was off limits, whatever the hell corn syrup was. No one, however, could really tell me why some of the other foods were off limits.

I guess it’s kinda like religion in general. It can’t all be explained.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t look for special holiday recipes. Or get excited to cook dishes for the first time. I’d never contributed to the sedar plate before. But with only 20 minutes til the sedar, I jumped on the chance to make this traditional dish my own.

Apple Two Way Charoset

I diced two apples, let my cinnamon obsessed sister sprinkle some of the sweet brown powder over top, then stirred it around with fresh lemon juice and just a pinch of salt.

Boring. And wrong.

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The Lovely Bits

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I sat there on the floor. Five rows of bookshelves mocking my single request. I wanted to make a cabbage and potato hash. I pulled four books. One had a hash recipe, but not what I wanted.

The night before I ate dinner at my friend, and fellow food writer, Scott‘s place. He follows recipes. He really follows recipes. Like doesn’t take this from that recipe, and this from that other recipe, and this from that imagination. His secret: good cookbooks.

I also think I own pretty good cookbooks, it just depends on the order. I have something in mind and then turn to a cookbook hoping to find the recipe. I invariably don’t. Then turn to the internet. Mis-match a few different recipes, throwing in some creativity, and usually figure out how to make it work. To get the best use out of cookbooks, you have to start at the recipe. A good recipe. Then buy ingredients. Or that’s what Scott thinks.

I borrowed his Indian cookbook, from which he made a few dishes for a Sunday night rooftop dinner. I’ve pledged to follow one of those recipes. Perfectly.

Until then. I kinda screwed up a hash.

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What to Expect at 2pm

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This past weekend my coworker threw a birthday party for her two-year-old son. Earlier in the week we spent some time finding invitations (um, am I the only one who’s never heard of the Backyardigans?) and more importantly, figuring out food. It was a 2pm party, which is kinda an awkward time.

How many meals have you had by 2pm on a Saturday? Would you have eaten breakfast? Breakfast and lunch? Lunch? Brunch? Nothing?

Exactly.

Also, what would you expect food-wise for a 2pm child’s birthday party? Just chips? Sandwiches? Just cake?

My coworker decided on bite-size, semi-substantial fare. Whatever that means. Well, actually, I can tell you exactly what it means: Chicken nuggets from Chick-fil-A, burger sliders (very impressed she found mini-potato rolls), waffle fries (frozen), spinach and artichoke dip (with pita chips and tortilla chips) and some party punch thing where she dumped a bucket of sherbet-like stuff into a bowl with Sprite. Oh, and of course cake (with Backyardigan decorations) and little ice cream cups.

We also wanted to serve a more grown-up side. That’s where I came in. She initially thought of a pasta salad type dish, but wanted something a bit different. Couscous! Still a side, but a bit more refined than pasta salad. Plus, I had a few winter vegetables that would be a much better fit for a grain than for pasta. (I think sweet potato and noodles are a bit much.)

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Follow the Leader: Not a Smashing Good Time

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Back in November or December I G-chatted BS and declared I had an awesome New Years’ Resolution. It would benefit my bookshelves and the blog. Every week I would cook a recipe from one of the 50+ cookbooks I owned. Sure, the one my brother bought me from Amsterdam that was a Spanish tapas cookbook written in Dutch would be a little tough, but, um, yea, I could make the gist of the resolution work.

It’s now March and I just started to pull out my many sources of recipes. On Monday night, like I said before, I pulled out my Bon Appetit and Gourmet magazines from 2009 (note: I haven’t renewed/bought any subscriptions for 2010), plus Bon Apps 770 cookbook. I used the book’s UNrecipe for roasted parsnips, and incorporated it with spinach, ricotta and onions. But I also wanted something else. I needed a proper starch. I used Gourmet’s Panfried Smashed Potatoes.

Get this – I followed the directions.

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God Damn I Need that Karma

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Friday
I was wearing a light gray cardigan that reached to mid-thigh. It had two pockets, like most cardigans. These pockets were shallow. I placed my iPhone in one of the pockets. It fell out of my pocket and into the toilet.

Sunday
I was at the farmers market on Sunday, about to buy an Herbs de Provence cheese for my brother’s birthday (Herbs de Provence is our inside joke), and when I looked in my wallet I realized that my debit card was missing.

Tuesday
I was in one of those beer, wine corner grocery stores and was paying for whole wheat pocketless pitas.
Clerk: That’s $3.99
Me: <Handed the clerk a $5 bill>
Clerk: <Handed me $2.01>
Me:<Hmm, I know I’m not quick at subtracting, but why am I getting 2 dollars back? Did I miss hear him. I’ll just put it in my wallet. Wait, you know what, this isn’t right.>
What’d you say the price was?
Clerk: OH! How much did I give you back? It’s $3.99.
Me
: <Gave him a dollar back, smiled and left.>

God Damn I Need that Karma. Fuck. I fucking drowned my very best friend and then I lost my only source of money. I didn’t need that dollar. I need some fucking luck.

And before I get to parsnips (again), if anyone knows how to resurrect a water damaged iPhone or figure out how not to pay $450 for a new one – please let me know! gansie@endlessssimmer.com

Let’s get back to that whole wheat pocketless pita.

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