A few posts ago, I shared my method for the weekly veggie roast that keeps me and my family eating yummy vegetables all week without having to waste time & electricity making them each day. This week, I thought we'd tackle another basic to good home cooking: BREAD.
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I was homeschooled until 8th grade, so my childhood mornings usually started around 8 or 9 a.m. I remember waking up in my oversized white and pink polka dot adult t-shirt that was my Nanny's, walking out to the living room to sit over the floor vent with my knees bent and shirt covering my legs like a tent, to let the hot air warm and wake me. Eventually I would mozy over to find Mom. "Good morning! How'd you sleep?" she'd always say, first thing. She was and is the most cheerful morning person I've ever known. I find this type of morning happiness a bit neurotic, but also admirable. Nearly every morning of my childhood I was greeted with a bright smile from my mom, and a hug that smelled of Mom and Dad's bed in the morning - a hint of Downy, a hint of morning breath, leftover cologne and a bit of something floral. Mom could usually be found in the mornings in the kitchen, wearing her signature 90s floral nightgown and baby pink robe (if not already dressed for the day). I don't live with her anymore, but I'm pretty sure this is still true today. She always made us eggs and bacon, or pancakes, or on really special days: cereal. This, moms, is a clever trick. Only one time as a child did my dad make me breakfast, and it was a huge deal. We all gathered around the table around 12 pm on a Saturday, and dad brought forth his creations. Burned but fluffy pancakes. Not bad bacon. And scrambled eggs, with imitation brandy extract. Yes, imitation brandy extract. The thought and effort was well received, and the food laughed about that afternoon and to this day. Breakfast is one of my favorite things, perhaps because of so many positive experiences around the breakfast counter as a kid, and yet I find myself skipping it or just having a protein shake more often than not. In a world where we don't have time or energy or frankly the skills to make breakfast I want to resist. I want to make breakfast every day to start my day on purpose, and with discipline and art. Making breakfast for myself and my family means I start my day by subverting a culture that worships convenience, that has forgotten the beauty of home-cooked food, and undervalues true holistic health. Making breakfast gives us a chance to start around the table, the best and most powerful place in the home; the place where we enjoy being human, learn from each other, pray together perhaps, and where we are reminded that we have basic, repetitive human needs and are not superheroes. I hope you'll join me this week in making a simple breakfast each morning, if only for yourself. In this age of lonely hurry, I hope we can find together a new rhythm of slow living and of vibrant loving. Vegetables prepared well are one of my favorite things to eat. Oily, garlicky, roasted things that grow in or from the dirt are downright holy. I don't, however, enjoy having to cook a new one or two each day for several reasons: 1) I buy all my veggies on Friday, so if I store uncooked veggies in the fridge all week, inevitably one or two goes bad 2) it takes a solid 20-45 minutes to make a delicious vegetable and 3) it wastes energy to cook a vegetable alone in the oven for about 30 minutes each day, instead of cooking 6-8 veggies (thereby filling the oven) all in one pop. Enter: weekly veggie prep. Today's post is quite thorough, and therefore a bit of a lengthy read. I suggest reading once through for inspiration, and once again as more of a manual if you decide you'd like to try my method. Cheers! This takes about about two hours of time, less as you get more used to the rhythm. I am not about enticing people to cook by saying "it's so easy!" or "it barely takes any time," because cooking ought to be done out of love for the act, and we ought to make time in our lives to do this sacred thing called cooking. Be enticed by the fact that cooking and eating will add value, earthiness, and health to your life. That being said, this is easier and takes less time than cooking something new each day. In summer, I make it a point to buy my food at the local Farmer's Market. It's important to support local farmers, and even more important to look in the eyes of the man or woman who took the time and energy to coax little seeds into this food you are about to chop and roast. Shopping at a Farmer's Market gives you the opportunity to learn what grows in which season, and to ensure your food is coming from sustainable sources. In winter, I buy my vegetables at Fred Meyer. I try to keep in mind what is in season, and avoid things grown in greenhouses or overseas because, eew. Spend your money on vegetables that are good. I buy a bit of everything: squashes, root vegetables, potatoes, leafy greens, onions, garlic (this is essential), etc. I also pick up a cucumber or two, some lemons, perhaps some good olives, and mushrooms to be sure. Very important as well is buying or growing fresh herbs. There is no place in the kitchen for dried herbs, as my muse Ina Garten always says. I don't bother putting the vegetables in produce bags because it's bad for the planet, bad for the vegetable, and an extra hassle, as I'll be cooking them all straight away. When I get home, I set my oven to 400 degrees. A hot oven is essential to delicious vegetables. After my oven is set, I place all my vegetables on the counter and take a moment to be grateful for it all. It may seem silly, but I say a little prayer for the farmers, the sellers, and a little phrase of thanks for the earth. This grounds me, and helps me to cook from a good heart-posture. Cooking with love and gratitude is as important as a hot oven when it comes to tasty veggies. Next, I make sure my cutting board is clean and my knife is sharpened. A good knife is the best money you will ever spend in regard to kitchen gadgets. Mine is good, but I do wish I would've gotten one with a bit more weight to it. Next time. i make sure to clean my sink with vinegar and water, and fill it with lukewarm water and a splash of white vinegar. I then soak the vegetables and rub them with my hands - no real need for a scrubber. A little dirt won't hurt anything, if the plants are organic. Drain the sink, lay the veggies on towels, and set two bowls in the sink: one to put greens in, and one for all the ends and stems and leaves. Then, get to chopping. I am absolutely terrible with knife work. I try my best to chop everything pretty similarly size-wise, but, in the end, everything ends up looking a bit....rustic. I slice onions root to top and then in little wedges, skin on, which prevents or at least helps with the crying. I am especially susceptible to onion-induced crying and generally look as though my husband has just left me for a younger woman by the time I am done with the slicing. I've learned to go makeup free on veggie day. I usually 3-4 trays out, some with silpats and some without, it doesn't much matter. I place my butternut squash on a rack in the oven directly. Arrange the veggies according to size and cooking time. This is easier than it seems, and if you guess wrong you can always remove the done veggies and return the pan to the oven. I place zucchini and string beans on one tray, onions and potatoes on another, and sweet potatoes (which have been stabbed twice each with a knife) with whole carrots and parsnips. Scatter garlic cloves with skins on throughout to roast - they add flavor and then you can have a jar of soft, oily garlic to spread on toast throughout the week. Next, douse everything in good olive oil. It seems inconsequential, but the quality of oil really does make a difference here. Make oil one of your bigger investments, along with good quality meat, a loaf of bread from a real bakery, and quality salt and pepper. You'll thank me later. Pop everything in the oven, and try to put the carrots and potatoes on top if possible. Next, put a pot of water on to boil. Add a good amount of salt and pepper, and use filtered water if you can. Drop in a slice of onion, perhaps a mushroom, a stalk of celery if you have it, and then add all the trimmings from your sink bowl. Add some of whatever herb you bought, as well, Let her boil while everything cooks, and taste regularly. It will be bland until it's been on about an hour, but taste for salt and seasoning mostly. Next, heat up a cast iron skillet or steel skillet with a generous amount of oil and butter, and salt. Add a few cloves of crushed garlic. When it's sizzling, turn down the heat and toss in the leaves. Add some red wine vinegar if you have it, and a generous amount of black pepper. Stir occasionally and remove the leaves, placing them in a Pyrex dish, after about 10 minutes. You'll be left with some pretty red juice - leave this in the pan. To make your vinegarette for the week, add some chopped shallots or onions and more garlic to the chard juice. Add around 1/2-1 cup of water and perhaps some lemon juice. Add a teaspoon of Dijon mustard. Let this boil down a bit, for around 4-5 minutes or so. Put some olive oil in a jar, and pour the liquid, shallots and garlic in the jar. Let it cool a bit before securing the lid. When it's cool, put a lid on and shake it up. Delicious on anything this week - lettuce or any other vegetable. I keep mine out at room temperature for a week or so. By now, it should've been about 20 minutes since you put those vegetables in to roast. Check them now! The beans and zucchini will finish first, potatoes and onions second, and sweet potatoes and carrots as well as butternut squash thirdly. That final tray will likely have been in the oven around 50 minutes by the time it's good and ready. Tamar Adler in her book "An Everlasting Meal," says that vegetables are done when you taste one and reach for another. I've found this true. As you remove the trays, take out those garlic cloves and store them in a jar. As things cool, put them in Pyrex or jars. Don't bother with plastic Tupperware. It's terrible for you and doesn't provide as good a view as to what's inside when you open your fridge. Wait until everything is fairly cool to put lids on, and then label each container with simple masking tape. I'm looking in to a less wasteful labeling system, but for now, this will do. Finally, try to display everything beautifully in your fridge. It doesn't take long, and really helps with making healthy snack choices as well as eliminating waste - if you can see it, you'll probably eat it before it's bad. I like all my prepped veggies on the left, fresh lettuces and onions and such on the right. I keep fresh herbs in cups of water in the door of my fridge. Dairy and pickled things go in the middle, and whatever scragglers remain on the bottom shelf. The drawers are used for apples and celery, mostly. Two hours from start to finish, and you've got a beautiful fridge and some beautiful meals in front of you. I'm willing to bet you'll feel more at peaceful, more human, and more grounded. Being prepared is the best way to ensure a daily meal around the table with family, friends, and neighbors, and hopefully an enemy or two once in a while!
As always, thanks for reading, friends. I'd love to hear from you if you try this method - tell me how it went, what you enjoyed and what I can do better! |
Maddi AllenOregonian, woman, wife, mom, business owner, photographer, and writer in pursuit of a simple, sustainable, and significant lifestyle. ArchivesCategories |