Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Let's drink to thriftiness

Brrr! I said it's cold in here!
There must be a recession in the atmosphere!Link
It's not even Halloween yet, and already it's colder than a witch's tit. Before you crank up the thermostat, only to be left in the cold when your heating bill soars, consider warming up with a hot toddy. This drink is a miracle: it's super cheap to make, packed with antioxidants, and guaranteed to clear sinuses and cure scurvy, shingles, smallpox, gout, dropsy, dysentery, dyspepsia, diptheria, and the consumption. At the very least, it's liquid Prozac for anyone who suffers from Seasonal Affective Disorder.

The traditional hot toddy consists of about two parts tea, one part brandy, a tablespoon of honey, and a slice of lemon, but you can also make a delicious bourbon hot toddy. Drinkable bourbon, however, tends to be a lot more expensive than drinkable brandy, but the Washington Post has lots of suggestions on how to recession-proof your liquor cabinet (thanks, Sanders!).

I make my hot toddies with E&J's XO Brandy. It may not be the very cheapest you can buy, at around $12 for 750ml, but it's certainly palatable, and it lasts the whole winter as long as you don't develop a major habit. I also cut corners and save money by skipping the lemon and honey and using instead honey lemon black tea or, in a pinch, lemon ginger green tea. I've also used pomegranate white tea and plain Earl Grey (with no honey or lemon added) to good effect. And, to save more money, as well as brain cells, calories, and myself from hangovers, I add just one shot of brandy instead of the recommended two. After all, it's the kind of beverage you consume while reading a good book with a cat on your lap, not the kind you use to play Flip Cup. On second thought...

Recipe: The Cozy Cat Lady's Recession-Era Hot Toddy
Serves 1

1 tea bag (can be lemon ginger, honey lemon, pomegranate, Earl Grey, or any fruity tea, really)
1 mug of boiling water
1 shot of brandy

Brew the tea. After it has steeped about 5 minutes, add the brandy. Cure what ails ye.


Addendum:
What if you buy brandy and find you don't like the hot toddy? Make mulled cider!

Friday, October 17, 2008

Peasant Food, Truly

So I hear there's a financial crisis/likely-recession-possible-
depression-to-be. Why haven't I posted more lately?

Possibly because I have not been following recipes: they tend to require too many ingredients I can't afford.

I personally have not yet been hit by Wall Street's great fall, nor by the terrifying credit crunch, but I still feel a constant pressure to not buy. Where weather changes normally would've sent me to Loehmann's in search of a few new sweaters, I've been staying in most nights and spending a surprising amount of time fretting over the hypothetical costs of my upcoming heating bills. And, compared to so many people, I have it easy. It has been easy for me to feign frugality, when in reality I'm pretty self-indulgent. I go out to eat and travel frequently. I have more clothes than anyone who calls herself "Economical" should have. And I am pretty confident I will always have a safety net (though, clearly, confidence doesn't count for much).

In short, my so-called economical food repertoire has not changed a whole lot. Still eating a fried egg sandwich for breakfast almost every day; still eating bean- or grain-centric leftovers for lunch; still occasionally grabbing a cookie or four at Baked & Wired in the afternoon; and still munching on whatever's around or testing something new for dinner. Or going out. And let's not forget all the beer and wine I still consume (I gratefully scored five bottles for free last night at the Montgomery County Humane Society's Wines for Canines and Felines event. Volunteering at benefits that rich people attend is quite possibly the most economical thing one can do).

One recipe I have been using, and which is definitely worth posting in light of the global economic crisis, comes from Nepali and North Indian peasants. Seems melodramatic enough to compare my own very lucky financial situation to that of destitute farmers in a frequent war zone. In any case, the real working poor know how to get by in unusually tough times.

Recipe: Dahl Saag (lentils with spinach)

Adapted from a variety of internet sources for the sake of being as cheap to make as possible; spelling remains creative. If you ever come across a used copy of any Julie Sahni book, please buy it for me and I will pay you back in curry.

Traditionally, it pairs with ghee (clarified butter), though it is still tasty enough without. Please scroll to the end of this post for a recipe for ghee. Additionally, it is great in a pita or sopped up by roti or naan or served over rice, but still good on its own when extra carbohydrates are a luxury.

My own version is meant to be easily modified depending on what ingredients you already have; the only real necessities are lentils (or, really, any legume) and spinach (or, really, any green).

Serves 6 and reheats well in microwave.

1/2 bag of lentils
1 lb spinach (for your wallet's sake, please don't buy the bagged version)
1 small onion
1 /2 t ground turmeric
1 t mustard seeds (I used 1/2 t dijon mustard, which complicates the dish a bit with additional ingredients like vinegar, but which still worked well)
1/2 t cumin
1 t garam masala (optional, but highly recommended if you already have it.)
1 t salt
1 t chili powder
2 T ghee (see recipe, following; if you don't have butter to make ghee, use vegetable oil)

Rinse the lentils and chop the spinach. Boil 3 cups of water and add the lentils, turmeric, salt and chili powder. Cook for 5 minutes and add the spinach. Keep on a medium heat till most of the moisture has gone.

Meanwhile heat ghee and in it fry the onions, mustard seeds and cumin seeds till golden. Stir into the lentils and spinach along with the garam masala. Keep on a moderate heat till cooked. The dish is dry, but add a little water to prevent catching.

Recipe: Ghee (best word ever)
Adapted from Alton Brown's recipe

1 stick of butter

Place butter in medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Bring butter to boil. This takes approximately 2 to 3 minutes. Once boiling, reduce heat to medium. The butter will form a foam which will disappear. Ghee is done when a second foam forms on top of butter, and the butter turns golden. Approximately 7 to 8 minutes. Brown milk solids will be in bottom of pan. Gently pour into heatproof container through fine mesh strainer or cheesecloth. Store in airtight container being sure to keep free from moisture. Ghee does not need refrigeration and will keep in airtight container for up to 1 month.



Addenda:

-If you don't have the exotic ingredients required to make a true dahl saag, don't fret: even with just salt and pepper, this dish is more than edible.

-Allegedly, quinoa is a "superfood," meaning it has enough nutrients to on its own sustain y0u for years. Consider serving this dish over quinoa.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

The best cookbooks are (practically) free

Despite its mostly well-deserved reputation as a seat of snobbery and high-end retail chains, Georgetown offers a few delightful surprises for the Economical Epicurean--that is, on the rare occasion she can escape her overworked thesaurus and wretched iBook long enough to take a leisurely lunch break. One such surprise is Baked & Wired, her latest frenemy, who once forced her to order not one but four cookies and eat them all in the same brief sitting. Thanks, Baked & Wired, for introducing four new cookie varieties that the Economical Epicurean just HAD to try immediately. Including a small coffee, the check came to about $10. Economical, indeed.

By the way, though I disdain the cupcake fad of late, I would like to add that Baked & Wired beats the frou-frou Georgetown Cupcake at its own game -- and never has that inexplicable line out the door.

ANYWAY, this post is supposed to be about cookbooks, not cupcakes, which brings me to my next great Georgetown discovery, Bartleby Books, on 29th Street near the Canal. What drew me in was a used copy of Pam Anderson's How to Cook Without a Book in the display window. Inside, the store is musty and cramped, full of first editions and other rare treats. Behind the cash register hangs a collection of old maps, including a small 1650 rendering of North America, with California an island hovering to the left of the continent. At $1,300, it is something the Economical Epicurean can only dream of hanging in her house. Alas, used cookbooks are a much more practical pursuit! In addition to the rather ironically titled but nonetheless very helpful How to Cook Without a Book (great for amateur cooks like me who are still shaky with certain techniques), I came across a mint condition copy of Deborah Madison's famous Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. With its hardcover, 700+ pages, and beautiful photography, this book retails at $40, but Bartleby was peddling it for $10. I snatched it up real fast.

The lone employee at Bartleby explained that some serious epicurean had just donated his or her entire cookbook collection. In the pile where I spotted Vegetarian Cooking, Alice Waters' Chez Panisse Vegetables and Dorie Greenspan's Baking with Julia also beckoned to me, though on this rare occasion the Economical triumphed over the Epicurean.

Probably half the cookbooks in my own collection came from used bookstores or book sales. I'm not sure how people can bear to give these up, but thanks to their poor judgment I've acquired dirt-cheap copies of The Silver Palate, The Silver Palate Good Times, a New York Times cookbook from the Craig Claiborne years, Barbara Kafka's Food for Friends, Marian Burros's Cooking for Comfort, and Mollie Katzen's Moosewood Cookbook, as well as a few other less notable titles.

One of my favorite finds has been Recipes and Reminiscences of New Orleans Volume II: Our Cultural Heritage, compiled in 1981 by staff and parents of the city's Ursuline Academy and dedicated to the nuns who ran it. I bought it for 50 cents at a Friends of the Library book sale in Rockville a few years ago. Spiral bound and slightly stained, it is classified not by course but, somewhat archaically, by cuisines special to each major ethnic group of New Orleans, such as the "Creole," "Acadians," "Germans," "Black People of New Orleans," and "Oriental and Polynesian." At the beginning of every section is a brief (but certainly lengthy for a cookbook) history of the particular group's role in New Orleans' culinary heritage. Though these histories occasionally take on a patronizing, essentialist tone -- "As the Black cook prepares it, it is unforgettable" -- the recipes themselves are short, simple, and all derived from local (i.e., authentic) sources. Below, my slightly modified and renamed version of Shrimp Creole, which is much easier than you would expect. If you want to spring for fresh shrimp, great -- but Trader Joe's frozen does the trick.

Recipe: Nun-on-the-Run Shrimp Creole
Adapted from Recipes and Reminiscences of New Orleans Volume II: Our Cultural Heritage.
Serves 4.

1 lb. shrimp, cleaned
1 small onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped
4 T (half a stick) butter
1 green pepper, chopped
1 T flour
1 8 oz. can tomato sauce
1 c water
1/4 t dried thyme
2 T fresh chopped parsley
1 t salt
1/2 t ground pepper
dash of tabasco
1/2 t lemon juice
1 bay leaf

In large saucepan, saute onion, garlic, and green pepper in butter for 8 minutes over medium heat. Blend in flour for one minute. Add shrimp, tomato sauce, water, thyme, parsley, salt, pepper, Tabasco, lemon juice, and bay leaf. Cover and simmer for 30 minutes. Serve over rice.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Quinoa Quinceanera

It's certainly not my quinceanera (and can anyone tell me how to type a tilde on the internets?), but there just aren't that many Q words synonymous with "extravaganza." And I write advertising for a living, so of course it has to be alliterative. Actually, instead of turning 15 (my would-be quinceanera), I am 26 as of one week, and you know you're getting old when you spent your birthday singing the praises of grains. I'm lame, yes, but I'm also happy to return to the EE after a three-month hiatus. And, with this return, I bring you a spectacular quinoa "recipe." The quotation marks are intended to convey that it's not really a recipe, but rather a concept, which makes it spectacularly improvisational and, thus, perfect for the parsimonious.

If you haven't yet joined the quinoa qlub (sorry), here's what you need to know: quinoa is a gluten-free grain that makes a great substitute for couscous, bulgur, or even rice. It's a bit denser and takes longer to cook than couscous; sizewise, it's bigger than the cous cous grain but smaller than the wheatberry. Most importantly, it's pronounced "KEEN-wah," and if you call it "kwin-OH-uh," as I once did, you might look stupid in certain circles. Here's what you don't need to know, but which may at some point in your lifetime prove useful in trivia: it originally hails from the Andes and it's one of the more famous siblings in a family of flowering plants known as the Goosefoots (goosefeet?).

This quinoa "recipe" is quickly becoming a national phenomenon since its accidental inception in San Francisco. Okay, "phenomenon" may be a smidge hyperbolic, but its lore has indeed traveled from coast to coast. Here's how I became acquainted with the very economical culinary marvel known as "Seth Quinoa Salad":

My friend Rachel B. (pictured at right!), whose boyfriend is the Seth of the dish's name, was visiting from California before setting off for Spain. We decided to make dinner at my house and, over the phone, rattled off the ingredients we both could contribute. I had a variety of canned beans, grains, a couple different cheeses, some trail mix, an aging zucchini, and a few other vegetables that had seen better days. Rachel had some tomatoes, avocadoes, peppers, and I think a couple other things (it doesn't matter what they were -- that's the beauty of Seth Quinoa Salad!). What could we do with these items, many of which were about to turn? (Truth be told, some of them already had turned, but the true Economical Epicurean has a stomach of steel and believes that "sell by" dates are for sissies.)

"The spirit of Seth Quinoa Salad," Rachel explained, is a commitment to using up whatever's languishing in the refrigerator or ripening on the windowsill. Somehow, the quinoa unifies all these disparate ingredients. In our case, we didn't even use quinoa, but whole wheat couscous (no sense in going to the store when the cabinet's already stocked with a perfectly good grain). I do think, though, that quinoa is better suited here; couscous grains are so tiny and delicate that they seemed a bit overwhelmed by the motley assortment of veg, cheese, and nuts.

Anti-recipe: Seth Quinoa Salad

Toss together:

-1 cup of dried quinoa, cooked according to package instructions (may substitute bulgur, couscous, or rice)
-A bizarre assortment of leftovers: diced tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, diced peppers, diced zucchini or other squash, really any vegetable, any herbs, any cheese (especially blue), any nuts, any dried fruit (trail mix was a particularly intelligent choice here, if I do say so myself). You could also go crazy with some grilled chicken, hardboiled eggs, or old bread made into croutons.
-Any beans - we used chickpeas. I want to stress that this component is very optional, since the whole point of SQS is to use up old stuff, and beans don't exactly go bad if still dry or in the can. Ideally, you cooked half a can of beans the night before and now have the rest standing by in the frigerator, eager to be eaten.
-An easy and cheap dressing: my favorite contains two parts olive oil, one part balsamic vinegar, and one part fruit preserves (can be any kind, but strawberry's extra good here), and salt and pepper. Rachel and I got jazzy this time and pestled together some olive oil, garlic, lemon juice, and I think some kind of herb and some maple syrup. Really doesn't matter, as Casper will tell you.

"Heavens!" Casper exclaims. "Already 3 days old, and this Seth Quinoa Salad is still green as ever! Truly, it keeps nearly as well as Tender Vittles. Oh, ho -- if only!"

Other uses of quinoa:
Try it in lieu of couscous in my recipes for Sprightly Spring Couscous and Couscous with Personality!

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Love them to death

For my friend Sarah's (count her among my four or maybe six readers) birthday, I made a dish that I had seen on Paula Deen's cooking show. Although I am not one of her regular viewers, I do appreciate Paula's total lack of fussiness and snobbery, as evidenced particularly in her use of a can of Cream of Mushroom soup in at least half of her entrees. Also, I happen to have a bizarre on-again/off-again love affair with Savannah, Georgia -- Paula's home base -- which may have something to do with why she's so appealing in a guilty-pleasure sort of way. The guilt, this time, and the pleasure, came in the form of deep-fried, bacon-wrapped macaroni and cheese. Because it's not enough to just deep fry mac 'n' cheese -- gotta add some nitrates, too! Anyway, my slightly modified version is worth posting, if only for thrills. Definitely a conversation piece anywhere. Happy Birthday, Sarah!

Recipe: Hurt So Good (Deep-Fried, Bacon-Wrapped Macaroni and Cheese)

[You could just make the mac and cheese and call it a high-calorie day. But if you really want to take five years off your life, continue all the way through.]

Serves 8 people with fairly normal eating habits or 3 Montgomery County cops.

3 C macaroni
1.5 C grated cheddar
2 eggs, beaten
1/2 C sour cream
4 T butter, cut into pieces
1 C milk
1 lb. bacon
toothpicks
flour for deep frying
2 or 3 eggs, beaten (may be substituted with 1/2 to 1 C milk)
plain bread crumbs for deep frying
peanut oil for deep frying (may also use vegetable oil, though results will not be as crispy nor as sinful)

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Boil macaroni according to directions. While macaroni is boiling, stir together eggs, sour cream, butter, and milk. Do not worry about butter mixing in perfectly; it's in there for flavor. Drain macaroni and, while still hot, add cheddar. Stir in egg mixture. Spread macaroni with egg mixture into 13" x 9" baking dish and bake 30-45 minutes, or until cheese is bubbly and slightly browned. Refrigerate at least a few hours or until chilled. Heat oil in deep pan (I used a stockpot -- frying pans never work for deep frying). Cut chilled mac and cheese into 3- or 4-inch squares. Wrap each square in one strip of bacon, securing with a toothpick. Roll bacon-wrapped squares in flour, then dip completely in egg (or milk), and roll in breadcrumbs. Test the oil to make sure it's hot enough by dropping in a tiny piece of the mac and cheese. If it immediately sizzles, you're good to go. Fry squares till dark golden brown (1-3 minutes, depending on heat of your stove). Eat cautiously.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Chicken with Pluck

Just over a week ago, I was advising, rather adamantly, that all four of my readers eat only beans and a few greens and bootlegged chicken salad. I think my fanaticism may have been a result of my unemployment, which, I'm pleased to announce, will be a thing of the past starting this Monday. So, I've decided to really let loose and celebrate with a chicken recipe! You know it's an official throwdown when there's poultry being served. Eating like kings, I tell you! We're even buying fresh herbs (but only because the cats kept sitting in my herb pots).

In all seriousness, this recipe's really, really good. I wish I could say I invented it myself, but, alas, it's another Mark Bittman gem. Actually, it came from one of his readers, who answered a request in "The Minimalist" column last year for recipes for summery ten-minute meals. I'm including the link here, as it features this chicken recipe as well as nine other keepers.

Below, my more detailed and slightly modified version of the "Basil chicken, Indian style." FYI, with the marinade time it takes quite a bit longer than ten minutes, though the prep time is quick.

Recipe: Basil Chicken

1/2 C basil leaves
5 cloves garlic
one-inch piece of fresh ginger or 1 t ground ginger
6-oz plain yogurt
2 T olive oil
1 T lemon juice
1/4 t cayenne pepper
1 t salt
1/2 t pepper
4 chicken pieces (boneless, skinless breasts are preferred; to save extra money, buy dark pieces or buy it with the skin and bones and just be sure to try to get the marinade under the skin)

Using a mortar and pestle, preferably a very big one, grind together the first 9 ingredients. You can also pulse them together in a food processor for a few seconds, but no more than that. Add to the chicken pieces and marinade overnight, or at least several hours (my mom has marinaded them for about an hour before and the results are still quite good, though not outstanding). Chicken may be broiled, baked, or -- ideally -- grilled.

Monday, June 9, 2008

Hace calor, mucho calor...

My sincerest apologies to all four readers for the nearly two month-long lapse. In between finishing my master's and looking for a real job, I've been subsisting mostly on granola bars, coffee, and the occasional fried egg. Despite this blog's claims to be economical, it also aspires to epicureanism -- and, clearly, the past month and a half's diet does not meet both criteria. Of course, now that I seem to have some free time, Washington area temperatures are topping 100 degrees and all culinary inspirations have melted away like the chocolates I accidentally left in my car over the weekend. What are the unemployed (me) to do in times of such dire heat and dire food prices?

I shall first list what the abject SHOULD NOT eat or drink in such conditions, despite how appealing these options may sound:

-Homemade lemonade: when lemons are almost a dollar each, you're looking at $6 or $7 for a medium sized pitcher. Who do you think you are, Dean & Deluca?

-Meat: it's expensive and you have to cook it. Do you really want to sweat both dollars and bullets?

-Ice cream: it's expensive, even if homemade, and it makes you fat. You can't afford to be fat!

And here is a brief list of what you SHOULD eat, in my alarmist opinion. The fresh fruit and vegetables in these recipes are available now, which is why you don't see any tomatoes. I will probably post a similar but more tomato-heavy list come August -- the DC area's most infamous month.

-Black bean and corn salad/dip: click here for full recipe

-Black-eyed pea salad: click here for full recipe

-Strawberry salad: toss 1 C or so of strawberries with a teaspoon of balsamic vinegar and pepper, add to 2 C of spinach, arugula, or some leafy mix, drizzle with olive oil and goat or feta cheese (for a small splurge). Serves 2 as main course.

-Cilantro-garlic yogurt sauce: combine 1 C plain yogurt, 3/4 C finely chopped cilantro, 1 finely chopped clove garlic, 1/2 t cayenne pepper; chill, covered, at least 30 minutes. Serve in a pita with chickpeas, or use as a dip for chopped raw vegetables.

-Chicken salad: DO NOT MAKE THIS YOURSELF. STEAL IT. It's very easy to get it for free this time of year at a graduation party or wedding shower from hosts who don't have enough room in their refrigerators. Serve in a whole wheat pita for added nutrition.

-Best caesar salad: for dressing, whisk together 3 minced cloves garlic, 3 chopped anchovies, 1 t salt, 1 t pepper, 1 T lemon juice, 1 t Worcestershire sauce, 1/2 t dijon mustard, 1 egg yolk, and 1/3 C olive oil. Add to 2 chopped heads of Romaine. Sprinkle with 1 C grated Parmesan. If you want croutons, cut up whatever stale bread you have left in the house into 1/2 in cubes; toss with 2 T melted butter, 2 T olive oil, 2 t salt, 1/2 t cayenne, and 1 t ground pepper. Toast in an oven preheated to 450 degrees until golden, about 10 minutes. Add chickpeas or white beans for nutritional value, if desired. Serves 4 as main course.

-Best smoothie for the buck: you have two options here; both begin with a banana.
1) Combine banana, 6 oz. lime yogurt (trust me, it's the best), 1 C orange juice, and 1 C ice in
blender, or
2) Combine banana, 6 oz. chocolate yogurt, 1 C milk, 1 T sugar, and 1 C ice in blender.