Simple Chicken Soup

This recipe is a modification of one I read long ago in an issue of Real Simple magazine. Not sure what happened to the torn-out recipe, so here is my version. Please note that the "recipe" changes dependent upon the ingredients in the fridge or hanging in the wire basket near the kitchen table...

Ingredients
1 rotisserie chicken
2 or 3 boxes of chicken broth, or equivalent chicken stock you made
1 bag baby carrots, chopped
2 onions, chopped
2 bunches of kale
1+ cup dry lentils
3 cups green beans, cooked
2 cans of diced tomatoes, or 1 pint of tomatoey salsa
5 small potatoes, thinly sliced
Fresh thyme
Salt and pepper
1 lemon
1/2 cup vinegar (balsamic, white wine, whatever you wish)
(Note: You may substitute almost anything as far as veggies go. The rotisserie chicken and broth are indispensable, however.)

Directions
Pour chicken broth into a large pot. Turn on medium-low. In a separate pan, saute onions in olive oil. Add to broth. Do the same with the potatoes, the carrots, and the kale. Add a bit of salt to the kale. Add in the tomatoes or salsa. Add green beans. Pull the meat off the chicken, shredding and adding to the broth. Do not add the skin. Add lots of thyme, as well as some salt and pepper. Add juice from a lemon, as well as vinegar. Add lentils last, and let soup meld for about 15 minutes. Serve!

This will make one big pot of soup and can feed eight or more. Very homey, very easy, and tastes even better the next day...

PHYLLO ZUCCHINI PIE

I made this dish for Mum's birthday, and it was gobbled up. Elegant, not too much work, and used some of the garden produce! Look to the end of this recipe for my variations...

Ingredients:

• 6 cups grated zucchini
• 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese, divided
• 1 Tbsp. olive oil
• 3 cups grated carrots
• zest of one lemon
• juice of one lemon
• 1 tsp. ground ginger
• 1 cup egg substitute, such as Egg Beaters
• 1/2 cup non-fat milk
• 3 oz. Neufchatel or low-fat cream cheese
• 1-1/2 cups part-skim ricotta cheese
• salt and pepper to taste
• 24 sheets of phyllo dough
• olive oil-flavored nonstick cooking spray
• 1/3 cup Panko (Japanese bread crumbs) or regular bread crumbs
• 6 oz. grated gruyere cheese

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Remove thawed phyllo dough from refrigerator, but do not open. Just leave out on the counter to come to room temperature. Spray a 9 x 13 pan with olive oil-flavored nonstick cooking spray.

Mix the zucchini and Parmesan cheese together in a colander. Season with salt and pepper. Set aside to drain.

Heat olive oil in a medium saute pan. Add the carrots and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat. Season with the lemon juice, lemon zest, ground ginger, salt and pepper. Set aside.

In a blender or food processor, combine egg substitute, milk, Neufchatel cheese, ricotta cheese and salt and pepper. Blend until smooth. Set aside.

Unwrap phyllo dough and remove one sheet. Place in prepared 9 x 13 pan. Spray the phyllo dough sheet with cooking spray. Top with another sheet of phyllo. Spray with cooking spray. Continue in this manner until you have layered eight sheets of phyllo dough. Cover remaining phyllo with the damp kitchen towel. Spread the zucchini and Parmesan cheese mixture on top of the phyllo dough.

Top with eight more sheets of phyllo dough, spraying with cooking spray between each layer, and covering the remaining phyllo with a damp kitchen towel. Spread the carrot mixture on top of this layer. Top with the Panko or bread crumbs. Top with the gruyere cheese. Pour the ricotta cheese mixture on top of this mixture. Top with the remaining eight sheets of phyllo, spraying with cooking spray between each layer and on top of the final layer.

Bake 75 to 90 minutes, until the top of the pie is golden brown. Allow to cool at least 15 minutes before serving.

Makes 12 servings.

Per serving: 340 calories, 16 g fat (8 g saturated), 38 mg cholesterol, 30 g carbohydrate, 2 g fiber, 20 g protein, 120% vitamin A, 26% vitamin C, 42% calcium, 14% iron

VARIATIONS: (what I did differently)

1. I had a box of phyllo dough with 20 sheets, so I divided up accordingly. Did not buy an extra box just to have 4 more sheets of dough.

2. I did not have gruyere (welcome to small town Dahlonega: "groo what??").

3. I used some cottage cheese in place of some of the ricotta.

4. Did not do bread crumbs.

5. Used some summer squash in place of some of the zucchini.

6. Used a real damn egg. What IS an egg beater really made of, anyway?

7. Note on the phyllo: I could have done a better job with the sheets, which certainly are fragile. At first I was peeling off each sheet, laying it in the casserole dish, and brushing with olive oil. (I did not want to use a gallon of cooking spray, as seems to be suggested by this recipe--the olive oil was better.) By the end of my prep, I started brushing on the olive oil BEFORE I peeled the sheet off the stack to lay on the casserole. This worked better because it ensured more even coating of each sheet on flat surface.

Bon appetit.

TOP CHEF fixation

I confess I have been caught watching some pretty terrible reality tv shows on (rare!) occasion, from Judge Judy to Nanny 911. I could never get into Dancing With the Stars or Bachelor in Paris or whatever those fake lovelorn reality shows are called. My favorite by far, however, has been Top Chef.

I do not much care for the waify hostesses of these shows, who stroll out in perfect hair and on toothpick legs to announce the next "elimination challenge." But it is the cooking itself that rivets me--the techniques of sous vide, of mis en place--(yes, the french itself is delicious to me)--and the concoctions that inspire. The past few evenings I have caught an episode of Top Chef Masters, in which accomplished chefs are competing to earn money for charities. These episodes are particularly good because the food is so very good. The judges can hardly become snarky toward these skilled chefs, and so the episode becomes purely about THE FOOD ITSELF.

Last night I was inspired by chef Artie Smith, a sensitive southern fellow who said he had been in the kitchen for a year and a half only. He made fried chicken and sweet potato fries. His food plates felt like a grandmother inviting you in for a meal that settles you in and makes you feel warm and cozy. When Artie won a challenge, his eyes misted up and I felt strangely proud of this little man I had only just met through the cable ether.

The other inspirational chef last night was Rick Bayless. His food fascination is of the Latin variety--chipotle, cilantro, citrus. He explained that he had begun his food career when he travelled to Mexico to study anthropology and linguistics, and found he could not get out of the kitchen. He changed his focus to the connection of culture and food and began creating his own palate-pleasing dishes.

I think I must love this show because it showcases what I love about food-- there is nothing like that haze of a glass of cabernet franc accompanied by a bite of cracker with a good strong goat cheese. It is a mouth experience in itself. These days for me, beleaguered (albeit voluntarily!) with the duties of mommyhood and all that goes with it, the food experience is one I can still enjoy right here at home. It is an opportunity to make functional art. I think of this little apartment, attic-like, humid and hot with the oven on 400 degrees, and I am in striped apron with Celia Cruz or Ibrahim Ferrer singing of gardenias-- There is a dewy sweat and the sink is full of pots and mixing bowls. I am only an amateur cook, but how I enjoy losing myself in the chopping, the sizzle of the pan, the slow waft of flavors coming from the oven. It's before dinner, and I feel like I have already eaten, already savored.

Nothing brings 'em out like a PIG

What is it about smoking a pig that draws a crowd? Is it the vigil kept round the pit (or in our case, the smoker) all day? Is it the beer that accompanies the vigil? Is it the idea of roasting an entire animal, head and all, calling to our most primitive let's-celebrate-the-hunt-was-successful parts of ourselves?

Whatever it is, the pig roast for the birthdays of Mum and Dad drew a crowd. Even the husbands who prefer their couches to parties mustered some enthusiasm for the pig. I arrived early at the party, held at the parents' lake house, and breathed in the oak chips smoking their way through the chimney of the smoker. Jim the pig smoker said, "That pig is 140 pounds. Did you bring an apple?" When I asked whether the apple would be stuffed into the pig's mouth while smoking, Jim and the other men laughed at my naivete. "No, it would turn to mush!" I said I did not care to drive off on a quest for a single apple for purely aesthetic purposes...

The party went off well, with swirling machines of margarita, strawberry daiquiri, and pina colada lining the walls of the screened-in porch. Sister Kelly's friend Daniel acted as the consummate host. "Welcome, may I get you a drink? We have mixed drinks, as well as beer and wine." I sat with baby Cecilia and observed the mingling of people who knew each other some or not at all.

Mum arrived and learned that a party was going on. (Cue the air horn.) She took it in stride, and got a margarita, declaring that the tequila content was insufficient. Others donned their swimsuits and headed for the water. Cousin Bill drove the motorboat for those who wanted to go tubing. Grandma Edna (excuse me, "Grandma the Great") walked about in her chunky turquoise jewelry. Auntie Sylvia said Edna was stubborn, which is true. Meanwhile, my boys Owen and Patrick ate ice out of the beer coolers.

Finally, the pig was ready. Jim used his knife skills and delivered up several aluminum bins of chopped meat. People lined up, reaching for the bbq sauce and potato salad. After the first round of meat, Dad carried in the head on a platter, John the Baptist style, except I don't recall that John the Baptist had an apple in his mouth. (Yes, it seems an apple was procured somewhere.) The sight of the pig head did not dampen my appetite as I had suspected it would--that is, until I noticed the pig's pearly whites. The molars were the most disturbing, gleaming from the back of the gaping, smoked mouth. Made our pig friend seem a little too human. The anthropomorphism made me need another drink. The boxed wine was a good choice.

It has been 5 days since that pig was smoked. (Thank god we had the good sense not to name the poor fellow--) Tonight is birthday dinner with the family for Dad, so I am using the loin from that pig to make quesadillas... Shredded smoky pork, jalapeno monterrey jack, cream cheese, and carmelized onion, summer squash, and bell peppers. Garden tomatoes, watermelon to start, and am contemplating a pineapple salsa. Will report on how it turns out, but one thing is for certain-- cooked pig draws hungry crowds.

Cooking with extended family

In late May 2009, I was a belly in bloom with my dear Cecilia bursting at my seams, and my mum was the proud winner of a cooking class for 12 at Harry's Market in Alpharetta, Georgia. She mulled over whom to invite, and I was among those fortunate enough to attend. The class was taught by a feller whose name escapes me, but the school itself is called Salud! (as in, let's-have-a-drink-why-don't-we). It is a glassed-in room right within the walls of Harry's. Feels a bit like an experiment, where groups of students in aprons stand around and get observed by the shoppers outside the glass. The room has soft lighting, however, so one does not feel too scrutinized.

We first donned our aprons, the 12 of us, and then we had some quick explanation of the foods we would be preparing. (Dad looked dubious.) The menu: morrocan pastry cups, mediterranean chicken with saffron rice, and, for dessert, lemon yum-ness. (Help me out, people, what was it called!) The dessert bears mention, but the appetizer was the main palate-pleaser. We dredged the chicken thighs in flour, cooked and chopped, added raisins and powdered sugar- what a delight of sweet and savory with a kick of spice! As soon as I find that recipe, it is getting posted here...

After all the cooking frenzy--and my first time using phyllo dough--we sat down to our little feast and clinked wine glasses. (Oregon pinot noir, of course.) Everyone was rosy from the heat of the stove--or was it the wine--and Aunt Patty and Dad spontaneously broke into song, "I'm just mad about saffron-!" Anyone who can tell me the name of that song gets a quarter.

We had to peel off the aprons before we left for the evening, and I had just enough time to make a mad dash around Harry's for some phyllo dough to take home and for some homemade soap. They do not sell such luxuriant items at the Dahlonega Wal-Mart, you see.

I noticed these classes cost about $60 per person if you wish to do the cooking, and about $30 if you just want to watch, like watching Paul Prudhomme but live. Check out the site: http://www.wholefoodsmarket.com/stores/alpharetta/saludcalendar.php

I declare it was money well spent. Someone else's, that is.

COBBLER TIME!

I got this recipe from sister-in-law Beth Brown, a hit that is easy to make and has never failed to turn out perfectly. Just remember it's all about "1"!!

Ingredients:
1 cup self-rising flour
1 cup sugar
1 stick butter
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup milk
....and 2-3 cups of fruit, any fruit (blueberries, chopped and peeled peaches, anything!)

Directions:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Place a 8x8 pyrex dish directly on the stove top, and turn the burner on low. Place the stick of butter in the dish and allow to melt completely. Then add the sugar, flour, milk, and vanilla, stirring to mix well. Finally, pour in the fruit of your choice--no need to mix in the fruit. I also like to sprinkle cinnamon on top.

Bake for approximately 45 minutes and you will have a most fabulous cobbler that required only one dish!