One of my favorite games at dinner time is trying to construct a meal with whatever we happen to have in the house. Some tofu and leftover raw veggies there, bag of frozen peas, and a bag of rice hidden in the back of the cabinet. Check to see that our teriyaki surplus hasn't been depleted, check. We're having stir fry for dinner, babe.
A concoction I recently thought of was something simple- plopping some unsalted tuna out of a can into some olive oil, mix in some pepper, salt, garlic and oregano and then throw it on some nicely seasoned noodles. Done. It's all about the seasonings.
Honestly, I don't think I've followed any sort of a recipe in a really long time. I like to glance over them in magazines or on the internet to get ideas, but really, I have adapted to just using what I have. I think, when you don't cook meat, everything gets easier and probably less expensive too.
Tonight my husband and I are going to see some local "celebrity" food writers speak at the Hennepin County Library. The likes of Dara Moskowitz Grumdahl, Stephanie March, and James Norton will be sharing ideas about reviewing food, who the local food rockstars are, and how they suggest up-and-comers break into such an unpromising field! ;)
Also, in book news, I am going to start reading a book about an American (self-described Francophile) who moves to Paris and realizes there are many things to be found that are truly not as romantic as the popular American vision. It's called Paris, I Love You, But You're Bringing Me Down.
So there.
Love,
gini
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Totino's Pizza Rolls
"Oh, my god," my co-worker spins around the corner and is at my desk, "I miss pizza rolls, you guys, pizza rolls. What kind of a junk food freak did I become?!"
She is speaking in a volume that, to her seems normal, but it is, in fact loud enough to disturb the whole office. The three of us look up and kindly wait for her to continue.
"I mean, I'm on this new diet..." (Yes, how could we forget...) "And, it's like I can only eat sticks and heated chicken breast, god, it's killing me."
To entertain her effort in coming over and trying to engage us, I say, "Pizza rolls, huh? That's the one thing you miss?"
Her eyes get big, "Yes!" She slams a flat palm on my desk for emphasis.
After more of a loud and somewhat meaningless discussion, my co-worker is content to go back to her office, and I am left, strangely, with the thought of Totino's Pizza Rolls. I think of their odd box shape, drab color, and entirely unappetizing appearance in general. But, as another co-worker warms his tortilla soup in the microwave and the smell wafts softly through the office, I swear I smell those piping hot little precious stones and a flood of memories course through my head. "Is someone cooking pizza rolls?" I ask my co-worker as he comes back into our office.
He makes an exaggerated pause, looks at me, and then silently mouths, "I knoooow" while rolling his dark eyes back.
I smile sheepishly and turn back to my computer. I am SURE I smell Totino's Pizza Rolls now. I imagine the gooey, partially liquified cheese and those pimento-like pieces of "pepperoni" never staying neatly packed inside that greasy crust as advertised; the contents of each roll spilling out with each bite and burning your chin over and over. The strangest part happens when I start to feel annoyed that this woman in my office called these treasures junk food.
*************************************************************************************
My brother had, I'm sure, the utmost pleasure of driving me home from school in my years of 8th and 9th grade. We were two very different people, but I admit, I always felt a little proud when my brother would tear into the school parking lot littered with minivans and parents, swiftly navigate his way through the mess blaring music I never recognized, but sounded damn cool, and all my girlfriends would swoon. I would hop in the car, wave to my friends, and then we would whisk away like we were never there.
An interest in music is something both he and I shared and I loved the days he felt like making conversation with me. He would play a new band he liked in the car for my opinion and we'd laugh about songs played on the radio. We had our "staple" bands- bands we owned literally everything and anything they touched or recorded. His was Nine Inch Nails from way back when I was small, and I had my obsession with The Smashing Pumpkins. We would listen to music I thought was so advanced- Pop Will Eat Itself, KMFDM, but then we'd also relax with some Offspring and Weezer. I loved the way he would trust my opinions and we could talk the whole ride home.
When Mike's car would pull into the driveway home, my heart would sink a little at the thought that our conversation would end and we would be back to being mild, silent roommates again. Once in ever while, I think he thought the same thing and would spontaneously deem it "DQ and Pizza Roll day." When this suggestion was brought up, I never declined. We would drive down to our local Dairy Queen where I would order my childhood favorite- "Medium Hot Fudge Sundae with extra hot fudge" and then we would go to the grocery store for those delectable Totino's Pizza Rolls. As my hair blew in the wind and hot fudge stained my lips, we would drive back home where we could sit and talk more while the pizza rolls baked in the oven.
At home, I'd sit on the counter top, scraping the last of my sundae away from the plastic cup while my brother would confide in me about this new girl he liked and the math teacher from hell. I would hang on his every word and feel pride as he asked for my input. The pizza rolls sizzled and hissed in the oven as we talked. Finally, when they were scalding hot, he would remove them and we would laugh as we tried to eat those ridiculous things, burning our chins, squirting out the mystery ingredients, and smiling. After successfully devouring the entire package, it was time for my brother to retreat to his room silently, we would become our very different selves again, and I might not see him until the next school day afternoon.
*************************************************************************************
I find that I have been blankly staring at my computer, eyes a little glazed over as I'm remembering that nostalgic smell, though the odor in the office is clearly tortilla soup and whatever weird concoction our dieting co-worker has most likely burned by now. I decide that I should blog about this experience because I think it must be meaningful somehow. I figure I am not alone in having a connection to someone almost entirely remembered by a thought that leads to a smell. If I hadn't heard the words, "pizza roll," today would I have had the luxury of revisiting this cobwebbed yet bright spot in the back of my mind this afternoon?
If you're interested, please leave your meaningful food/smell story down in the comments section. I would love to see what makes anyone else feel the way I do today.
Love,
gini
She is speaking in a volume that, to her seems normal, but it is, in fact loud enough to disturb the whole office. The three of us look up and kindly wait for her to continue.
"I mean, I'm on this new diet..." (Yes, how could we forget...) "And, it's like I can only eat sticks and heated chicken breast, god, it's killing me."
To entertain her effort in coming over and trying to engage us, I say, "Pizza rolls, huh? That's the one thing you miss?"
Her eyes get big, "Yes!" She slams a flat palm on my desk for emphasis.
After more of a loud and somewhat meaningless discussion, my co-worker is content to go back to her office, and I am left, strangely, with the thought of Totino's Pizza Rolls. I think of their odd box shape, drab color, and entirely unappetizing appearance in general. But, as another co-worker warms his tortilla soup in the microwave and the smell wafts softly through the office, I swear I smell those piping hot little precious stones and a flood of memories course through my head. "Is someone cooking pizza rolls?" I ask my co-worker as he comes back into our office.
He makes an exaggerated pause, looks at me, and then silently mouths, "I knoooow" while rolling his dark eyes back.
I smile sheepishly and turn back to my computer. I am SURE I smell Totino's Pizza Rolls now. I imagine the gooey, partially liquified cheese and those pimento-like pieces of "pepperoni" never staying neatly packed inside that greasy crust as advertised; the contents of each roll spilling out with each bite and burning your chin over and over. The strangest part happens when I start to feel annoyed that this woman in my office called these treasures junk food.
*************************************************************************************
My brother had, I'm sure, the utmost pleasure of driving me home from school in my years of 8th and 9th grade. We were two very different people, but I admit, I always felt a little proud when my brother would tear into the school parking lot littered with minivans and parents, swiftly navigate his way through the mess blaring music I never recognized, but sounded damn cool, and all my girlfriends would swoon. I would hop in the car, wave to my friends, and then we would whisk away like we were never there.
An interest in music is something both he and I shared and I loved the days he felt like making conversation with me. He would play a new band he liked in the car for my opinion and we'd laugh about songs played on the radio. We had our "staple" bands- bands we owned literally everything and anything they touched or recorded. His was Nine Inch Nails from way back when I was small, and I had my obsession with The Smashing Pumpkins. We would listen to music I thought was so advanced- Pop Will Eat Itself, KMFDM, but then we'd also relax with some Offspring and Weezer. I loved the way he would trust my opinions and we could talk the whole ride home.
When Mike's car would pull into the driveway home, my heart would sink a little at the thought that our conversation would end and we would be back to being mild, silent roommates again. Once in ever while, I think he thought the same thing and would spontaneously deem it "DQ and Pizza Roll day." When this suggestion was brought up, I never declined. We would drive down to our local Dairy Queen where I would order my childhood favorite- "Medium Hot Fudge Sundae with extra hot fudge" and then we would go to the grocery store for those delectable Totino's Pizza Rolls. As my hair blew in the wind and hot fudge stained my lips, we would drive back home where we could sit and talk more while the pizza rolls baked in the oven.
At home, I'd sit on the counter top, scraping the last of my sundae away from the plastic cup while my brother would confide in me about this new girl he liked and the math teacher from hell. I would hang on his every word and feel pride as he asked for my input. The pizza rolls sizzled and hissed in the oven as we talked. Finally, when they were scalding hot, he would remove them and we would laugh as we tried to eat those ridiculous things, burning our chins, squirting out the mystery ingredients, and smiling. After successfully devouring the entire package, it was time for my brother to retreat to his room silently, we would become our very different selves again, and I might not see him until the next school day afternoon.
*************************************************************************************
I find that I have been blankly staring at my computer, eyes a little glazed over as I'm remembering that nostalgic smell, though the odor in the office is clearly tortilla soup and whatever weird concoction our dieting co-worker has most likely burned by now. I decide that I should blog about this experience because I think it must be meaningful somehow. I figure I am not alone in having a connection to someone almost entirely remembered by a thought that leads to a smell. If I hadn't heard the words, "pizza roll," today would I have had the luxury of revisiting this cobwebbed yet bright spot in the back of my mind this afternoon?
If you're interested, please leave your meaningful food/smell story down in the comments section. I would love to see what makes anyone else feel the way I do today.
Love,
gini
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Tuna Noodle Casserole
Here it is, my first blog, and what better food topic than the one, the only, Tuna Noodle Casserole.
As a child, the three foods I remember from the deliriously happy time when my parents would be leaving for the night assigning my gangly, extremely introverted brother in charge would be Fillet O' Fish Sandwiches, Kentucky Fried Chicken, and my mother's Tuna Noodle Casserole. She only fixed the latter when she didn't spend the hours from 2pm-5pm showering, applying copious amounts of makeup, and trying on 10 pairs of shoes- so, obviously, the destination nowhere super nice.
This bubbling hotdish, when she pulled it out of the oven, seemed to glow like a greasy little bit of Topaz. The bubbling pasta, melted cheese, and oh, that slightly burned, cripsy, salty crust of potato chips atop like an angel's halo... I remember the smell that lingered in our home the next day, even, from this hearty Midwestern treat. She served it in a dish I always considered too small. Most times I wanted seconds...thirds!...and sometimes I wanted to lick the dish, if my brother wouldn't dutifully take to finishing the dishes so fast.
I lost the trail to Tuna Noodle Casserole as I got older, swore off meat, even dairy for a while. I only thought of this dish as something to log away in the brain, as one of those silly, unhealthy Midwestern curses we all seemed to have some affinity for, but not me, no, I knew what good, healthy food was.
Eventually, I came back to my beloved taste for seafood and I started to realize a purpose for cooking things you are familiar with. I am infamous in my family for taking meals my mother would cook from scratch and creating something different based on her ground rules. My little sister, on the other hand, prides herself on recreating the exact replica of whatever we enjoyed as children- the ultimate compliment to our mother as chef! This, of course, could be a time for evaluation, but how boring and obvious. Let's stick to the subject at hand.
The Tuna Noodle Casserole I prepare now has been deemed a favorite food by my husband, and, honestly, it is NEVER made the same way twice. It's a bonafide "pantry dish" and I think that's really fun. I worked with my mother's small, simplistic, yet entirely satisfying hotdish, and made it into something no one person could ever eat in an entire sitting nor feel the pangs of heartache while another took the last helping. Please see below as I've added my mother's great inspiration and then my take- the one I made this evening, at least.
No matter how you might like to prepare it, this is a truly warming dish for a windy, merciless Winter night such as this. Cheers.
My Mom's 1980s Tuna Noodle Casserole:
2 cans tuna
7 oz. elbow macaroni
1 can Cream of Mushroom Soup
3 Slices of American Cheese
1/2 can of milk
2 slices of red onion, chopped
Mayonaise (enough to moisten tuna)
Potato chips (Old Dutch)
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease a casserole dish. Boil macaroni, meanwhile heat the can of soup mixed with the 1/2 can of milk. When the mixture is warm, tear cheese pieces, add them, and stir until melted.
2. Prepare tuna salad. (Mix tuna, mayo, and chopped red onions.)
3. Drain macaroni, add tuna salad, and only 3/4 of heated soup mixture. Sprinkle potato chips on top. Bake uncovered for 20-25 minutes.
Gini's Tuna Noodle Casserole (variations made tonight and many times during the winter)
2 Large cans of low sodium tuna
1 bag wheat/gluten free brown rice spirals
1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese (a fun variation is Blue Cheese...pretty much any cheese!)
1 can Cream of Mushroom soup
1/2 red onion, chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
2 bundles of spinach, cleaned and coarsely chopped
1 cup frozen peas
Veganaise - enough to moisten the tuna salad
Salt/ground pepper
Thyme
Oregano
Potato chips or Parmesan for the top
1. Start boiling water for the pasta. Empty Cream of Mushroom soup into a pan and fill the can 3/4 full of water. Add to the soup base and stir, warming on a low heat.
2. Make tuna salad- tuna, celery, onion, and veganaise. Add thyme and oregano, also be sure to add some cracked pepper. Mustard is also pretty good here.
3. Boil pasta, stir the soup and add the cup of shredded cheddar until it melts.
4. Throw the frozen peas in the microwave with a little water to warm up.
5. When the pasta is ready, drain it and then add a touch of oil to the pan before pouring it back in. SALT the pasta a little. Add tuna salad, peas, spinach, and then pour the hot soup sauce all over that bad boy. Grab a taste to check for seasoning.
6. Pour the concoction into a lightly greased casserole and top with potato chips and/or Parmesan. Bake 20-25 minutes uncovered and then cool a bit, and savor.
Consider adding a nice mixed salad...you know, for your health. ;)
Love,
gini
As a child, the three foods I remember from the deliriously happy time when my parents would be leaving for the night assigning my gangly, extremely introverted brother in charge would be Fillet O' Fish Sandwiches, Kentucky Fried Chicken, and my mother's Tuna Noodle Casserole. She only fixed the latter when she didn't spend the hours from 2pm-5pm showering, applying copious amounts of makeup, and trying on 10 pairs of shoes- so, obviously, the destination nowhere super nice.
This bubbling hotdish, when she pulled it out of the oven, seemed to glow like a greasy little bit of Topaz. The bubbling pasta, melted cheese, and oh, that slightly burned, cripsy, salty crust of potato chips atop like an angel's halo... I remember the smell that lingered in our home the next day, even, from this hearty Midwestern treat. She served it in a dish I always considered too small. Most times I wanted seconds...thirds!...and sometimes I wanted to lick the dish, if my brother wouldn't dutifully take to finishing the dishes so fast.
I lost the trail to Tuna Noodle Casserole as I got older, swore off meat, even dairy for a while. I only thought of this dish as something to log away in the brain, as one of those silly, unhealthy Midwestern curses we all seemed to have some affinity for, but not me, no, I knew what good, healthy food was.
Eventually, I came back to my beloved taste for seafood and I started to realize a purpose for cooking things you are familiar with. I am infamous in my family for taking meals my mother would cook from scratch and creating something different based on her ground rules. My little sister, on the other hand, prides herself on recreating the exact replica of whatever we enjoyed as children- the ultimate compliment to our mother as chef! This, of course, could be a time for evaluation, but how boring and obvious. Let's stick to the subject at hand.
The Tuna Noodle Casserole I prepare now has been deemed a favorite food by my husband, and, honestly, it is NEVER made the same way twice. It's a bonafide "pantry dish" and I think that's really fun. I worked with my mother's small, simplistic, yet entirely satisfying hotdish, and made it into something no one person could ever eat in an entire sitting nor feel the pangs of heartache while another took the last helping. Please see below as I've added my mother's great inspiration and then my take- the one I made this evening, at least.
No matter how you might like to prepare it, this is a truly warming dish for a windy, merciless Winter night such as this. Cheers.
My Mom's 1980s Tuna Noodle Casserole:
2 cans tuna
7 oz. elbow macaroni
1 can Cream of Mushroom Soup
3 Slices of American Cheese
1/2 can of milk
2 slices of red onion, chopped
Mayonaise (enough to moisten tuna)
Potato chips (Old Dutch)
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease a casserole dish. Boil macaroni, meanwhile heat the can of soup mixed with the 1/2 can of milk. When the mixture is warm, tear cheese pieces, add them, and stir until melted.
2. Prepare tuna salad. (Mix tuna, mayo, and chopped red onions.)
3. Drain macaroni, add tuna salad, and only 3/4 of heated soup mixture. Sprinkle potato chips on top. Bake uncovered for 20-25 minutes.
Gini's Tuna Noodle Casserole (variations made tonight and many times during the winter)
2 Large cans of low sodium tuna
1 bag wheat/gluten free brown rice spirals
1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese (a fun variation is Blue Cheese...pretty much any cheese!)
1 can Cream of Mushroom soup
1/2 red onion, chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
2 bundles of spinach, cleaned and coarsely chopped
1 cup frozen peas
Veganaise - enough to moisten the tuna salad
Salt/ground pepper
Thyme
Oregano
Potato chips or Parmesan for the top
1. Start boiling water for the pasta. Empty Cream of Mushroom soup into a pan and fill the can 3/4 full of water. Add to the soup base and stir, warming on a low heat.
2. Make tuna salad- tuna, celery, onion, and veganaise. Add thyme and oregano, also be sure to add some cracked pepper. Mustard is also pretty good here.
3. Boil pasta, stir the soup and add the cup of shredded cheddar until it melts.
4. Throw the frozen peas in the microwave with a little water to warm up.
5. When the pasta is ready, drain it and then add a touch of oil to the pan before pouring it back in. SALT the pasta a little. Add tuna salad, peas, spinach, and then pour the hot soup sauce all over that bad boy. Grab a taste to check for seasoning.
6. Pour the concoction into a lightly greased casserole and top with potato chips and/or Parmesan. Bake 20-25 minutes uncovered and then cool a bit, and savor.
Consider adding a nice mixed salad...you know, for your health. ;)
Love,
gini
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)