Food shorts: roast chicken and walnut-olive pasta

I have half a dozen longer food posts written, and I really need to start uploading them. But in the meantime. . .

I’d been craving roast chicken for a while, and yesterday, stuck at home Saturday evening doing sermon edits and other work, I decided that I’d give in to temptation. The result was seriously the best roast chicken I’ve ever produced. The skin was crisp and salty and succulent, the drippings tasted so good that they made a fantastic side dish drizzled over plain rice, and the flesh was uniformly delicious, even the white meat; it managed to be moist and flavorful and rich-textured throughout. I began with a nice happy chicken (vegetarian, free-range, whatever; the corner Italian grocers sold it to me!), then mostly followed this roast chicken recipe, which various friends have recommended. I didn’t bother with trussing the drumsticks — partly because I couldn’t find my twine, and partly because I’ve never found it that necessary with a small chicken — and I stuffed the chicken with a lemon that had been pricked with a fork all over, so that the citrus aroma perfumed the meat and juices. Also, I find that one of the trickiest parts of roast chicken is figuring out what “done” is. I used a meat thermometer in the thickest part of the meat, took it out of the oven when it hit 160 (it rose to 165 while resting, which is the minimum that’s safe for poultry), and poked its thighs with a fork to make sure the juices ran clear. The result: roast chicken perfection.

Then, tonight, a friend came over to chat and cook dinner, and the grocer’s decided to close early, so we got to improvise, with highly successful results. I boiled water and tossed in some good tagliatelle pasta; really, any kind would work, especially those with a porous surface. While the pasta cooked, I heated two tablespoons of good olive oil over medium-high, then added a cup or so of coarsely chopped walnuts and sauteed them until they were brown and toasty. I tossed the oil and walnuts into the drained pasta, added about three tablespoons of black olive tapenade, and seasoned it with generous black pepper, nutmeg, and salt, adding some more olive oil to help it coat. The result was just wonderful, something I’ll have to add to my vegan cooking repertoire; the tapenade and toasted walnuts gave it a fantastic earthy richness. We ate it with my standard French salad (green leaf lettuce and a homemade vinaigrette) and some pungent Sicilian table cheese. Very satisfying.

Sermon: “Seeing with Resurrection Eyes”

Well, today was the big day. Today I preached to a full congregation for the first time.

And — despite a cold which my body decided to catch at the worst time! — I think it went well. My preaching class had gotten the “first-time jitters” out of me, and although I probably could’ve slowed down and paused even more, I think my delivery was good. (And everyone said very kind things afterward.)

I’ve been debating whether to upload my sermons and sermonettes in general, but I think I’d like to post this one, just to mark the occasion. I hope it doesn’t need to be said, but if you want to use this sermon elsewhere, I probably won’t mind — but you must ask me first.

The Lectionary readings for today were from Proper 27, Year C in the Book of Common Prayer. They may sound familiar to some of you from this morning, but if not, it’ll be helpful to read them before reading the sermon.

Finally, the writing style and layout may seem a bit unusual; it’s what my preaching professors call “oral/aural,” and it’s designed to facilitate writing (and reading) the text in a natural way for being heard.

And I know that time will be / When I consider my source instead of me.

I am eating dinner. It is vaguely modeled on Corn in a Cup: sauteed corn, edamame, red bell pepper, carrots, onion, and garlic, with a good hit of cayenne and coriander, doused in a sauce of cream, milk, lemon juice, and Parmesan. It is delicious.

Last Sunday, I preached for the first time. It was at the 8 AM service, so practically no one was there, but it went . . . okay. I’m learning so much lately about preaching, and part of what I’m trying to learn is the courage to step back and get my self out of the way.

And tomorrow is a Greek midterm. One day I’ll have the luxury of journaling at length again.

Crunch-Topped Apple Coffee Cake

A few months ago, I volunteered to bring baked goods for the local cycling coalition’s monthly Bike to Work breakfast, as is my wont. I decided that I was in the mood for coffee cake, but I couldn’t find a single recipe that encompassed everything I wanted: a crunchy, crumbly topping, with a moist, fruity, not too sugary interior, all in a tender cake that would cut into nice pieces for eating without utensils.

This is what I cobbled together; I’ve made it three times now, and it’s been a big success every time. In fact, I might just argue that this is my platonic coffee cake. So while it does involve a “mise en place” approach of preparing several different components, then combining them, I think the results are worth it. Enjoy!

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Crunch-Topped Apple Coffee Cake
(makes 32 smallish pieces)

Will I look back and laugh at how much I did, or how little?

I thought it might be helpful for people who’re wondering why I never talk to them any more to see what I’ve been doing this semester. Um, and if you’re one of those people, I’m truly sorry.

The relationship between the links and their subject is left as an exercise for the reader.

Classes:
Environmental Theologies
Religion in American Society, 1550-1870
Principles and Practice of Preaching
Introductory Greek
Practicuum (discussion and support of structured church internship)
New Testament Interpretation (auditing*)

Work:
Internship with a local “evangelical, ecumenical, Episcopalian” church
Intern for the City for the Transportation department, working on projects of sustainable transit

Extracurricular:
Yale Earth Care Committee (apparently I’m the technical president . . .)
Elm City Cycling (committee member, city liason, and baked-goods-maker)
Committee member for the Org. for Transformative Works
Monday night WoD RPG
Berkeley Divinity School

So, yeah. When I’ve gotten to the point of telling the boyfriend, “how about I just give you access to my Google Calendar, so you know when I’ll be free, since I’ve got eight things lined up for every day already” . . . I know I’m busy.

(* – I like the NT lecturer, and I really need the background, but I didn’t have the space for the class this year. And frankly, I’m much more interested in refreshing a general background for academic exploration of the NT texts, so I can take upper-level seminars in NT next year, than I am in memorizing dates and writing entry-level essays. So this way, I get to attend lectures without having to do the boring work. Yay!)

I hate summary posts.

Things I did this weekend:

• Made crème brulée with a real propane blowtorch (mmm, fire. mmm, burn-sugar crust that crackles when you pierce it with a spoon.).
• Made crisp, melt-delicately-on-your-tongue meringues that tasted almost as good as my aunt’s, even if they didn’t look quite as pretty.
• Made real, delicious, non-mushy Spanish rice from scratch, and chicken seared in a cast-iron skillet and simmered in a kicked-up enchilada sauce.
• Carried the bishop’s crosier before her during a high Mass.
• Read a chapter of Greek, and remembered why I didn’t want to take it.
• Watched a couple of episodes of Batman: TAS, and remembered why it’s such an amazingly good show.
• Started to plan for my First Sermon Evar.
• Bought pseudo-eco-friendly food and felt guilty as an environmentalist.
• Discovered (and sang at a hymnsing!) “There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood,” which is the most cheerfully gruesome and morbid hymn I’ve ever heard.
• Chastised myself for falling behind on my journal, then tried to write this entry twice before and had it deleted twice. Dammit.

At some point I’ll write up a summary of my courseload and commitments for this semester. Too busy for that now.

I saw Eternity the other night.

When my father died when I was seventeen, I pondered heaven and God’s plan for el’s complex and contradictory children, and it seemed to me evident that nobody I know, certainly including myself, was ready for heaven after this mortal life in which we are all, one way or another, bent and broken. There may be a handful of people who are prepared for the unveiled vision of God. But most of us are not, most of us still have a vast amount to learn. I don’t know how God plans to teach me all that I need to know before I am ready for the Glory, but my faith is based on the belief that I don’t have to know. I have to know only that the Maker is not going to abandon me when I die, is not going to make creatures who are able to ask questions which simply cannot be answered in this life, and then drop them with the questions still unanswered.

– A Stone for a Pillow, by Madeline L’Engle

Faster Pho (Vietnamese Beef Noodle Soup)

My tummy is full of yummy, and my lips are tingling, and I am officially happy.

I’ve been fighting an irritating cold for the last day or so, and all day at work, I was thinking longingly about pho. Pho is one of the most ubiquitous Vietnamese dishes; in its classic form, it’s a wonderfully scented beef broth, with noodles and tender cooked beef and various vegetables swimming in it. When I have a cold, I pump up the spiciness as much as I can bear, and the steaming-hot soup combined with the kick of the chili pepper clears my sinuses until I feel sane again.

I’d never made pho before, and I knew that without planning ahead I couldn’t make the beef stock from scratch. However, the heart of this dish is the richly flavored stock, so I only took a partial shortcut. Pho is, as I said, made from beef stock, but I had some savory, deep brown turkey stock sitting in the freezer; that, plus chicken fat to sauté with, plus a couple of beef bouillon cubes gave a hearty, meaty flavor that wasn’t quite beef but was damn tasty. Here’s the recipe. Sorry for the lack of photos; I was too sick and hungry before the meal to bother. . .

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Shortcut Pho (Vietnamese Beef Noodle Soup)
(serves 3-6)

I’ve been behind in my posting.

And I’m sorry. Everything’s fine, but . . . I suppose I haven’t taken the time to write the sorts of things that I’ve posted here, and it’s a shame.

The new school year starts in a week, which should be fun. I’m gritting my teeth and telling myself that I can get an H in Greek if I try hard enough. Really. And one of my favorite undergrad professors convinced me that having better Greek would convince potential PhD programs that I’m Serious About This, and at any rate, I would like to know Greek. I’m just terrible at learning languages.

Human languages, anyway. I taught myself PHP a couple of weeks ago; on my vague to-do list is a web database of all my recipes (both the ones here and the ones I have written down elsewhere), so they’re easy to search. It’ll be good for me as much as for anyone else.

After a week of visiting home and going to every obscenely fattening restaurant I’d missed so deeply, I was in the mood for something light today. The little grocer on the corner has had $1/lb local summer tomatoes for the last month, so I cooked some cheese tortellini and tossed them with diced ripe tomatoes, crushed garlic, olive oil, and salt and pepper. Bruschetta pasta, or something like it. Trés yummy.

And when we find ourselves in the place just right

Cooking is wonderful. You create a magic combination of texture and flavor and sight and smell. But sometimes, the best thing you can do is step back and let the ingredients’ magic sing all by itself.

Tonight I cooked Trader Joe’s organic pasta, using my good heavy dutch oven; I really think that the heat retention helps the texture of the pasta, by making sure the temperature doesn’t dip too much. A generous amount of salt in the water, of course. I managed to catch it at the moment of pure al dente perfection, firm to the tooth without being chewy or hard.

I’d prepared a quick sauce for it — Trader Joe’s vodka sauce, simmered with large TVP chunks to add meaty-tasting vegetarian protein — and it was a tasty enough weeknight accompaniment. But when I tasted that pasta, I couldn’t bear to drown it out. So I spooned the pasta into a bowl, drizzled on my Terra Medi extra-virgin olive oil, tossed it with a spoon, and ate it, just like that. The olive oil coated the pasta in a fragrant, buttery lushness, adding depth and body to the gentle wheat core. Modest in its simplicity, the dish sang.

Yesterday, I was treated to the best sushi in town. It was delicious, each piece a delight to the palate and imagination. But for sheer perfected pleasure, I think that I’d have to side with tonight’s simple olive oil on pasta.