I've been left to my own this week, loosecanon is currently touring the wilds of Pennsylvania. Being "the guy", this carries with it the assumption that I'll somehow die of stupidity, slobbery, or starvation if not being taken care of or reminded to do things.
At the very least, various pets might expire in my care. When my dad and I were abandoned for multi month stints, while my mom and sister enjoyed an Australian summer, we would often invent fictitious reports of domestic drama to pass on to the doubting women folk. Every week a different house plant would circle the drain, only to experience a miracle akin to that of Lazarus by the next correspondence.
However, the fears are unfounded. When cooking for myself, I get to try out various recipes that wouldn't inflict on anyone else. I'd meant to record my experiments, but I am damn lazy. Tonight was particularly odd, so I was inspired.
I kind of enjoy left overs. The pressure is off to produce a specific thing, so anything that tastes good goes over well. Plus, you get to play. Day one I made some rice to steam warm some left over breaded chicken.
So, day two I had cold rice to work with. I entertained the idea of making some arancini, but deep frying can be much. I did bring my sushi rice up to room temp, mix in a beaten egg, mirin and soy sauce. I got too much egg for the ratio I was looking for, so a rice ball like thing was aborted. However, the resulting golden brown rice fritter was quite tasty.
Yesterday was easy, it was Polish. The Polish deli is a treasure of foods
with no labels. I got a giant meat ball ( or tiny meat loaf, it's a matter of perspective ) and some rough tube shaped dough things with bacon bits, we'll call dumplings. That was dinner. I also got some "egg noodles", whole barley ( to play with ), kielbasi and Polish ham. The ham is different from any I've ever had, it's very lightly smoked but heavily brinned; it's very moist and quite tasty.
Polish pride is an awesome thing. I appear to be a non Polish rarity in the shop. They speak to me slowly and smile a lot. If I ask what's best, they'll point to something and explain, "Of course it is best ham, it Polish ham." When I said their chocolate bars were excellent ( high cocoa, non of that veggie oil crap ), they just smile and say, "Yes, we know, it's Polish." It's surprising when you consider this is the people who entirely wiped out Irish jokes in America ( for which I'm grateful ).
So, the Polish meat products are all exceptional so far. The dumplings are great. The deserts or bread run the gambit, depending on your taste. Tonight, the egg noodles, not so good.
I also made panir. Yes, making cheese at home, quite fun. I did the noodles in the whey. I've had these so called noodles before, they're not pasta, not dumplings, they're some strange chewy thing in between. I bet they'd be good in a dish like beef stroganov, but on they're own I care for them.
Ok, enough rambling. Tomorrow, or the next day, risotto. Maybe another stab at arancini...
At the very least, various pets might expire in my care. When my dad and I were abandoned for multi month stints, while my mom and sister enjoyed an Australian summer, we would often invent fictitious reports of domestic drama to pass on to the doubting women folk. Every week a different house plant would circle the drain, only to experience a miracle akin to that of Lazarus by the next correspondence.
However, the fears are unfounded. When cooking for myself, I get to try out various recipes that wouldn't inflict on anyone else. I'd meant to record my experiments, but I am damn lazy. Tonight was particularly odd, so I was inspired.
I kind of enjoy left overs. The pressure is off to produce a specific thing, so anything that tastes good goes over well. Plus, you get to play. Day one I made some rice to steam warm some left over breaded chicken.
So, day two I had cold rice to work with. I entertained the idea of making some arancini, but deep frying can be much. I did bring my sushi rice up to room temp, mix in a beaten egg, mirin and soy sauce. I got too much egg for the ratio I was looking for, so a rice ball like thing was aborted. However, the resulting golden brown rice fritter was quite tasty.
Yesterday was easy, it was Polish. The Polish deli is a treasure of foods
with no labels. I got a giant meat ball ( or tiny meat loaf, it's a matter of perspective ) and some rough tube shaped dough things with bacon bits, we'll call dumplings. That was dinner. I also got some "egg noodles", whole barley ( to play with ), kielbasi and Polish ham. The ham is different from any I've ever had, it's very lightly smoked but heavily brinned; it's very moist and quite tasty.
Polish pride is an awesome thing. I appear to be a non Polish rarity in the shop. They speak to me slowly and smile a lot. If I ask what's best, they'll point to something and explain, "Of course it is best ham, it Polish ham." When I said their chocolate bars were excellent ( high cocoa, non of that veggie oil crap ), they just smile and say, "Yes, we know, it's Polish." It's surprising when you consider this is the people who entirely wiped out Irish jokes in America ( for which I'm grateful ).
So, the Polish meat products are all exceptional so far. The dumplings are great. The deserts or bread run the gambit, depending on your taste. Tonight, the egg noodles, not so good.
I also made panir. Yes, making cheese at home, quite fun. I did the noodles in the whey. I've had these so called noodles before, they're not pasta, not dumplings, they're some strange chewy thing in between. I bet they'd be good in a dish like beef stroganov, but on they're own I care for them.
Ok, enough rambling. Tomorrow, or the next day, risotto. Maybe another stab at arancini...
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That is the single best thing I've read all week.
The lady and I were browsing in a knick knack shop at one point and I came across an earthenware pump dispenser that had labelled, on the side, "BALD HEAD POLISH." (The fact that it was block letters is relevant.)
I showed it to the lady with the suggestion that we get it for her dad. She kind of blinked and answered, "But my dad's not Polish."
I will never let her live that down as long as I draw breath.
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