Tag Archives: cooking

Chopped Obsession

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Chopped

Chopped

It began when my daughter caught me sprawled on the couch, potato style, and said, “You should watch this show, Mom.”

Oh my goodness!  I want my own basket of oddly matched and unheard of foods to play with!  Chopped on the Food Network Channel is one of my new favorites and I want to be both the contestant running like crazy to get the plates up and the judge who gets to taste everything and critique the subtly of the flavors, the fresh presentations, the over or under use of salt, and how well the food has been transformed from its original state!  I never knew some of those edibles could be combined in such amazing ways!  I’m green with envy!

So I was trying to think of some really tricky combinations myself and what I’d do with them.

For my appetizer basket I find a can of sardines in oil, angel food cake, purple potatoes and Triple Sec.  Yikes!  I immediately think how terrible the sardines will taste with anything sweet and nothing can make the orange liqueur go with them, right?  So I hash up the potatoes and crumble in the angel food cake, add some cayenne pepper AND the liqueur to tame it.  You see where I’m going here…some latke’s.  Into the fryer with those and now I need to do something to transform those stupid little sardines so out comes the marscapone, some fresh dill, and black pepper.  I mush up the sardines into that mixture and the fishiness is still there…hmmm.  Salt.  Can’t forget to use the flat sea salt…don’t want points off for not enough salt.  Still something missing.  Wait for it…I see the bag of pork rinds on the kitchen shelf and bingo, crackle a few of those in.  I’ll need a sauce so I bring the Triple Sec to a boil, toss in a touch of sugar, and add some fresh orange peel, whole peppercorns and a dash of, can’t think of what so I skip it.  Time is now one minute and I need to plate!  I grab the curved square plates and center on the latke, dollop the sardine mixture, crackle some of that pork rind on top, drizzle on the sauce and top with tiny bits of dill I’ve finely chopped.  Viola!  Hands back!

My judges are Alex Guarnaschelli, Marc Murphy and Maneet Chauhan, my favorites!

Host  Ted Allen says, “Chef Patti, explain your dish.”

If there is ever a time for me to use the Southern accent, this is it!

“Weeeeellll, my dish takes its inspiration from growing up eating sardines and crackers.  I’ve created an elevated version with a potato-angel food cake latke with a sardine and pork rind mousse drizzled with a peppercorn and orange liqueur sauce.  Y’all enjoy it, bless your hearts.”

Says Alex:  “I love that you brought your roots into it, but there doesn’t seem to be enough salt.” (Drat!)

Says Maneet:  “The presentation is very nice, and you have elevated it but I just don’t get the pork rinds.”  (Neither do I, but they were there!)

Says Marc:  “I like that you brought out the orange liqueur with the peppercorns.”  (He gets me!  He gets me!)

Host Ted Allen says:  “Thank you, Chef,” and moves on to the next contestant.

My competitors have created things I’ve never even heard of so I know my elevated sardine cracker hasn’t a chance of a love bug going solo in the summer.  (You actually have to be a Southerner to understand that one and it actually does refer to insects.)

We’re called back out and when Ted asks, “Who will be chopped?”  I start to get fidgety because I’m sure it’s me….but it’s not!

Oh my goodness!  Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition!  I race to my little area and await the next basket unveiling, quivering with  excitement, or nervousness.  Probably nerves.

We’d all been asked why we want to win the $10,000.00 and I hadn’t even thought that far since for me it was the thrill of getting to open one of those mystery baskets and going at it.  Have no idea what I said but I hope it was good.

For our next basket, the entrée, we find dandelion greens, squirrel, Gruyère, and tabasco sauce.  I am ecstatic!  (And for those of you who would not, could not, do not and never have killed much less eaten squirrel, I apologize.  It was a staple in my granny’s kitchen back in Alabama but never fear, I haven’t had any in close to 38 years and don’t expect to ever again-besides, this is fiction.)  So, as all the other chefs are reeling in shock and can’t get the picture of this adorable little furry thing out of their heads, I’m mixing up the batter to fry.  I know exactly what I’m cooking…fried squirrel with gravy over cheese biscuits with dandelion and kale (they don’t have collards in the kitchen) sautéed in bacon.  Done and done!  Woo hoo!

Everyone else has gone a little nutsy with the squirrel (intentional pun there) so, again, I am not chopped!

Back to my next basket which is the dessert round.  I open it and find…

What?  What do I find in the mystery dessert basket?  I’ll try anything sent my way and let you know the results!

 

 

 

Breakfast Brownies

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We’ve started a thing, Hannah and I.  Brownies for breakfast.  Not just plain chocolate brownies but brownies with walnuts and peanut butter.  Yum.  It came about because she ate my last cherry turnover one night – my favorite breakfast treat.  Looking in the cupboard I came across a walnut brownie mix that I have no idea how it got into my cupboard and told her to make them after school the next day.  And she did.  I came home after working late to the oh-so-decadent fragrance of warm, gooey, chocolatey brownies still sitting on top of the stove.  More yum. 

I got busy and forgot about them (I think the smell had me mesmerized into thinking I’d actually consumed one) but when I went to make the coffee I noticed them, still perfectly uncut in the brownie pan.  I quickly cut them and placed them under the glass covered cake pedestal that had housed a bundt cake a few weeks ago.  Hannah trailed out of her room (the cave), saw them and had one.  

“Breakfast,” she said. 

And that started it.  We’ve since made walnut brownies each week and cut them into cute little squares and placed them prettily on display, the perfect morning sweet.

My kids have always loved brownies.  One of my favorite memories of brownie baking is of Sam at around four.  He would sit up on the counter as we made brownies.  He’d pour in the mix, crack and add the egg, pour in the measured oil and water, and stir.  Oh, it was messy and it wasn’t perfect but it was absolutely, perfectly wonderful.  One day as we chatted while we went through our process he got really quiet and looked at me seriously.

“Mommy?”  (How I miss those days of being Mommy!  I cried for a week when I became Mom.)

“Yes, Sam?”  A speck of chocolate flour was on his nose and the goopy brownie mix had traveled from his hands to up his arms with a little tale-tell bit around his mouth where he’d licked the stirring spoon.

“Will my wife know how to make brownies?”

Be still my heart!  Where is this coming from?  Ah, yes.  Often when we prayed together at night I would ask God to bless the girls that would someday be the wives of our boys.  I would pray for them to have good homes, with parents who loved them, and to know safety.  I would pray for them to know Jesus…for them to come to know Him.  I would pray for God to prepare these little girls to be the women He had planned for them to be so that they could be the best wives for these little boys. And then I’d pray for the boys to be good men.  And Sam had listened.

“I don’t know, my Sammie Lamb, but I hope so. Not all girls are raised to know how to cook, but if she wants, we can teach her. ”

His face frowned in concentration as he contemplated something so foreign to what he himself knew.   I was blessed to be able to be at home part of the day, to be able to cook and bake and savor the fleeting, precious moments while my babies were young.  Every day brought something new and warm and amazing to discover about my children, and every moment brought them closer to growing up.

He gave the mix a vigorous stir and handed it to me to pour into the pan and hung his head sadly, “Okay… but she needs to be able to make brownies.”

I tried to hide the giggle that bubbled at his seriousness.  “Well, son, if she can’t, you can.  You know how to make brownies.”

His gaze shot to mine and a slow grin spread along with a decisive nod.  “Yes, I can.  I can make the brownies.”  And with that he was off the counter, racing to find Aaron and get back to their Star Wars Battle Station Galactica play set.  I knew that as soon as they heard the timer buzz they’d both be there, ready for milk and warm brownies.

Brownies aren’t just for breakfast; they’re an offering, a delicious prayer that my grown up babies will find that safe, sure, and giving love with a special someone  God has prepared for them.

Someone who will take the time to go into the kitchen of life with them, open a box of brownie mix, and together add the ingredients that are as necessary for brownies as for marriage.  Faith in God like eggs to hold it all together; purpose like water that converts sucrose to glucose and maltose to glucose, to make committed decisions and thoughtful choices that lead them toward their shared goals; and ardor like oil to moisten their lives with laughter, adventures, and memories.  Maybe they’ll throw in some nuts for fun, or some peanut butter for whimsy.  And as the years go by, they will stir and stir, pour and bake, and create something more wonderful than they could ever imagine, just because all the right things were added.  

Because without those key ingredients, a brownie is just not a brownie.

It’s only Monday and the walnut-peanut butter-brownie pile has dwindled noticeably.  I admit nothing.  Hmmm.  Better get the brownie mixing bowl out again.  Can’t start the day without a good breakfast brownie!