More American Food
There are times when I feel like a culinary genius, and I just have to pat myself on the back. Now, I have been taking this eating thing quite seriously, in fact I am (as instructed) eating every three hours, and surprisingly feeling pretty good. So this may all go to hell next week when I have to start teaching again, but so far so good.
[Aside: I am a bit nervous, I mean, I know what I am teaching, more or less, but I have never had to be cute and funny and interesting for three hours straight, five days a week, for the same audience, at least when that audience is a heterogeneous one and not a love interest. (You see I believe the key to a good rapport with your class is to make them all fall a little in love with you, not so much that it distracts them from the ultimate goal, but just enough to keep them focused on the main spectacle.)]
So, like any good New Englander (if transplanted and raised in the mid-Atlantic) I was nursed with the addage "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without". My glee comes not so much from making good food (though that is a felicitous side-effect) but from being able to salvage what seems to be on its way out, while reincarnating left-overs in miraculous manjares.
We polished off the last of the mole verde this morning with a crimini mushshroom (these were a rescue mission), onion, garlic and parmesan fritatta. I realized of course that there are a few more foods to be added to the list of good "American Food" or at least non-denominational, or non-"ethnic" food. Although, sadly I had to throw away strawberries and rhubarb (very American) because I procrastinated for too long on the project of a pie.
Recent miraculous metamorphoses included:
--> dying broccoli into scrumptious cream of broccoli soup (my childhood favorite and one of the few ways I can get I. to consume green vegetables). This was a variation on a soup from the Moosewood Cookbook which allowed me to use not only the aforementioned veggie, but a wilting green pepper. I even used the chicken stock (defrosted) from last week's leftovers. After the greens are pureed (having been cooked with sauteed onion, garlic, and bay leaf in stock) with milk, you add thyme, a dash of nutmeg and black pepper, a half cup of sour cream and (secret twist) *fresh* minced basil.
--> wild Alaskan salmon (previously baked with a sprinkle of salt, dijon mustard, and capers - can't claim this as American as the recipe was given to me by a lovely Quebecoise, colleague in a previous life) into a salmon salad dressed with plain organic yogurt, chopped scallion and dill (this makes it American, or at least as far as I am concerned, because I have never found dill used in Latin America - called "eneldo" in supermarket packages in US, but I have never, ever, found it fresh in a market there.)
--> excessive cherry tomatoes from Eric's garden into fresh (the kind soaked in water) mozzarella, tomato, basil, garlic and balsamic vinaigrette (Ok, I know this isn't American, but it was so damn good!)
and the other day I roasted some of them on a comal with a chile and pureed it with onion and garlic to make the base for a clear pasta soup, using the first half of left over broth.
Now, if only I could be so dedicated to my studies... but there is no one brandishing a whip at me :( not until September anyhow.
[Aside: I am a bit nervous, I mean, I know what I am teaching, more or less, but I have never had to be cute and funny and interesting for three hours straight, five days a week, for the same audience, at least when that audience is a heterogeneous one and not a love interest. (You see I believe the key to a good rapport with your class is to make them all fall a little in love with you, not so much that it distracts them from the ultimate goal, but just enough to keep them focused on the main spectacle.)]
So, like any good New Englander (if transplanted and raised in the mid-Atlantic) I was nursed with the addage "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without". My glee comes not so much from making good food (though that is a felicitous side-effect) but from being able to salvage what seems to be on its way out, while reincarnating left-overs in miraculous manjares.
We polished off the last of the mole verde this morning with a crimini mushshroom (these were a rescue mission), onion, garlic and parmesan fritatta. I realized of course that there are a few more foods to be added to the list of good "American Food" or at least non-denominational, or non-"ethnic" food. Although, sadly I had to throw away strawberries and rhubarb (very American) because I procrastinated for too long on the project of a pie.
Recent miraculous metamorphoses included:
--> dying broccoli into scrumptious cream of broccoli soup (my childhood favorite and one of the few ways I can get I. to consume green vegetables). This was a variation on a soup from the Moosewood Cookbook which allowed me to use not only the aforementioned veggie, but a wilting green pepper. I even used the chicken stock (defrosted) from last week's leftovers. After the greens are pureed (having been cooked with sauteed onion, garlic, and bay leaf in stock) with milk, you add thyme, a dash of nutmeg and black pepper, a half cup of sour cream and (secret twist) *fresh* minced basil.
--> wild Alaskan salmon (previously baked with a sprinkle of salt, dijon mustard, and capers - can't claim this as American as the recipe was given to me by a lovely Quebecoise, colleague in a previous life) into a salmon salad dressed with plain organic yogurt, chopped scallion and dill (this makes it American, or at least as far as I am concerned, because I have never found dill used in Latin America - called "eneldo" in supermarket packages in US, but I have never, ever, found it fresh in a market there.)
--> excessive cherry tomatoes from Eric's garden into fresh (the kind soaked in water) mozzarella, tomato, basil, garlic and balsamic vinaigrette (Ok, I know this isn't American, but it was so damn good!)
and the other day I roasted some of them on a comal with a chile and pureed it with onion and garlic to make the base for a clear pasta soup, using the first half of left over broth.
Now, if only I could be so dedicated to my studies... but there is no one brandishing a whip at me :( not until September anyhow.
posted by ilana at 9:33 p.m.
3 Comments:
Te leo y me da hambre e ideas.
¿Clases de verano, Ilana? Creo que son de las más duras de enseñar, ya que en los Estados el peso recae en el profesor gracias a un sistema en que el alumnado no busca por sí mismo cómo aprender, sino que espera a que se le entretenga. En estas clases uno se mata por "interesar" al montón de chicos que creyeron venían a una fiesta en la cual tras romper la piñata iban a caer créditos y A+ a granel. Pero por dicha, pagan bien y pasan rápido. Lo bonito es llevar comida el último día de clases y ser entretenido por los alumnos. (Digo yo, que hoy hablo hasta por los codos).
Sole, lo siento lo del hambre (unfelicitous side-effect) pero con gusto de daré más ideas gustativas (conforme se me vayan ocurriendo.)
Yuré: has descrito las clases aquí en general "to a T" - a veces hasta me sonrojo (por pudor, creerás) por la ropa de pachanga que llevan mis queridos encargados al aula de clases... ahora eso de summer session nunca lo he tenido que fletar, salvo un verano insoportable con unos niños pijos de Madrid en el que di clases de inglés y los paseaba a un grupo totalmente desinteresado... pero eso no cuenta.
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