Dream On

I can’t deny the swoon factor in “Tiny Dream Kitchens” featured in this month’s Domino. The tiny kitchens in this article are all in one units that incorporate many features like sink, stove, storage, and refridgeration. I’ve never been a believer in things that perform multiple tasks, often because they don’t do any of them well, but these units send my heart aflutter. I’m especially infatuated with the Alpes washing/cooking block. I fantasize about it as my peninsula - the smoth stainless countertop housing a custom sink and cooktop with mix and match oven and recycling drawers - all practical and inobtrusive, but the price brings me down to earth at $25,000. The Boffi Mini Kitchen is a Japanese puzzle box of drawers and compartments tucked into one smoothly designed glorified airplane beverage cart. I love it and hate it at the same time, hating it more at the $30,000 price tag. Finally, the Acme kitchenette is no slouch, and quite reasonable in price, but I wouldn’t want this efficiency as my main kitchen. I’ll consider it for the in-law wing of the house - I can dream can’t I?

Burden of Modern Living

Paper or plastic? How about neither? For years, I have been consciously trying to reduce my own bag consumption by bringing my own bag. An effort in itself, as those shop clerks always want to give me one - even when I ask them not to - since it’s hard wired into their musculature to do so. I never expect anyone else to do the same, but it does only make sense considering how they pile up at home (The Littlest Kitchen doesn’t have much room for extra bags), let alone the environmental consequenses of these non-biodegradable conveniences of consumption. In the name of free, we’re choking marine life, clogging up drainage systems, and filling up our landfills.

In the past week, it has been remarkable to see governments take action with this issue. On Wednesday, China banned the production super thin plastic bags, and as of June 1, supermarkets will not be allowed to give them out for free. On Friday, New York City’s City Council voted for the recycling of plastic bags, by requiring stores that give them away to have receptacles for discarded bags. These are monumental steps in the right direction to make us more aware of the impact of our consumption. I think the most successful program is Ireland’s bag tax, which charges consumers 15 cents a bag. Usage went down a phenomenal 90%! The beauty of this program is that it provides additional revenue for the government to fund environmental projects, a whopping 3.5 million euros. And San Francisco should be commended for their effort too, which requires grocery and drug stores to use only biodegradable plastic or paper bags.

If the world’s most populous country and most populous city can be more aware of these pesky little plastic bags, so can you. Habits are hard to break, but this planet is even harder to fix.

Chili dinner party

There were 2 1/2 pounds of ground beef sitting in my fridge, time to do something about it before it becomes something altogether undesirable. Utilizing many of the hand me downs from crazy loot, the best thing was to make chili which would incorporate the meat, crushed tomatoes, and beans. Since no one in their right mind should eat 2 1/2 pounds of ground beef on their own, I invited some guests. A dinner party in The Littlest Kitchen. For the very first time.

The dinner that I had planned was chili, cornbread and salad. Now, this would have been a no brainer in my old apartment which was fully stocked with basic dry goods and equipment. The ever-evolving, work in progress of The Littlest Kitchen had no such amenities. I already had a few extra ingredients - garlic, chipolte peppers, and cumin - and only needed a few more items - an onion and yogurt for the chili, baking powder for the cornbread, and salad stuff.

The salad stopped me in my tracks, it required so much prep and I was at a loss for a large salad bowl. I felt that it was necessary to round out the meal, and it was a matter of simplification. Chili, being an all-American dish, begs for an equally familiar salad, nothing fancy. It wants an iceberg wedge with blue cheese dressing. The only requirement is cutting the head of lettuce into eighths, and pouring the dressing (which I had) over it. An approriate contrast to the amorphous bowl of red, it’s architectural and green and white, providing creaminess and crunch.

Cornbread became another problem. I remembered to get the baking pwder which I lacked. Upon reading the recipe while the chili was cooking, I realized that I had soymilk, not regular milk; cake flour, not regular flour; and powdered sugar, not granulated sugar. It would be more like corncake than bread, not what I wanted, so I looked at my other alternatives. I had some Brazilian cheese bread mix, but it might be too rich for the already fatty chili. I wanted something that would cut the fat, not add to it. Rice would be perfect, but I only had a funky Korean mix of brown rice, barley, black rice, green pea and mung bean. It was worth trying, and ended up being quite good. The color and texture blended with the chili almost too well, but the salad balanced it all out.

A dinner of more than one becomes a complication of scale in The Littlest Kitchen. There is no room to put anything, and you just can’t let things pile up carelessly. The key is to keep things moving and too keep things uniform. If a plate was done, it moved to the sink with like items, stacked neatly. Easier said than done in the whirlwind of entertaining. All in all, the littlest dinner party was enjoyable for the guests and the host.

Chili - serves many

-chop 1 onion
-heat 2T olive oil in a large pot over medium high until shimmering
-add onion and cook until soft, about 5 minutes
-in the meantime, mince 3 cloves garlic, then add to pot, stir until fragrant, about 1 minute
-add 1t ground cumin, stir to coat onion and garlic
-add 2 1/2 lbs. ground beef, breaking it up with a spoon while it browns, about 10 minutes
-when browned, add 1 - 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes and 2 - 15 oz. cans black beans, bring to boil, and simmer for 45 minutes
-in the meantime, mince 3 canned chipotle peppers, add to chili while simmering
-serve over rice with a dollop of plain yogurt

There are as many ways to make chili as there are stars in the sky. An olio of spare parts, I also like it with different kinds of beans, celery, carrots, and corn. Unfortunately, none of these were in the larder at The Littlest Kitchen. Not that I’m complaining…

Julia Child’s “My Life in France”

I’ve never fully appreciated Julia Child until I read her memoir, “My Life in France”. I’ve cooked from her cookbooks, long endeavors of a generation past; and never seen her shows, entertainment for an older, stuffier generation. Her charicature lives large in my mind - “One cup of wine for the chicken, two cups of wine for the chef”. I could never relate to the patron saint of epicurean home chefs. Matronly and pedagogic, I am not.

“My Life in France” brings her down to earth, chronicling the time in her life when she discovers her passion for food and cooking, her “calling”. Written in a breezy tone of the wide-eyed California girl that she is, the book is filled with moments of delight and curiosity, lessons and dilemmas, friendships and love, a time when life just comes together. The details of post-World War II Europe makes me long for a time machine. Her enthusiasm and perseverance is inspirational. Most wonderful is her loving life with her husband Paul, who supported her every step of the way, sharing in their gastronomic pursuits, and translating her skills into educational visuals. This is a book and life to be savored.

Glass House

I went to Philip Johnson’s Glass House back in September, and I have to say, I was underwhelmed by the kitchen. Granted, it hadn’t been used in a few years, and it’s supposed to be invisible, it’s nowhere near as stunning as the rest of the house and grounds. Painted a battleship gray, it tonally blends in with the landscape, as not to stick out, as it would if it were white, black or metal. Everything is counterheight as not to obstruct views in or out of the house. The stove is only 20 inches and the fridge is an undercounter, apartment-size appliances for a well-sized house. To distinguish the kitchen from the living area, interior cabinets within the kitchen are grey (as seen from the outside), exterior surfaces are wood (as seen from the inside). Nowhere is this more pronounced than with the nifty flip up counter that goes over the oven and sink. Flipped up in utilitarian gray, one could use the sink and oven; flipped down in attractive wood, creates an island for entertaining by hiding said appliances. Minimal is one thing, but on its own without the beauty that surrounds it, this kitchen could conceivably be found in any employee breakroom.

Crazy Loot

A friend who knows my pecuniary ways, kindly bestowed the flotsam and jetsam of his kitchen to me before embarking on a long trip. This odd lot includes:

-3 lbs. frozen ground beef
-3 frozen pie crusts
-2 lbs. frozen blue corn tortillas
-granola
-1 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes
-3 15 oz. cans black beans
-2 half used bags of pasta
-1 envelope of Lipton Onion Soup mix
-1 13 oz. can pickled jalapeno
-1 14 oz. jar pizza sauce
-1 quart chicken stock
-random chocolates
-boxes of tea

Fact of the matter, The Littlest Kitchen can barely hold all this new loot, the freezer door barely closes! So I have to tackle the most perishable item first - the ground beef. Where better to start than hamburgers?

True confession, I’ve never made a hamburger before. I’ve helped out at barbecues, and have certainly ate my fair share of them at restaurants, but I’ve never made them in my own kitchen. I consulted Cook’s Illustrated and Mark Bittman for my maiden voyage into the burger arena. I know it’s not brain surgery, but I’d like to get it right the first time. Surprisingly, they both go into lengthy detail about quality of meat and grinding your own with a food processor, an appealing idea for the future when I actually get a food processor. For now, I have pre-ground supermarket chuck. Essentially, it’s a a good amount of salt and pepper and four minutes on each side in a hot pan for a medium burger. I toy with the idea of mixing in the Lipton’s onion soup mix, but for my virgin attempt, I want to keep it simple. The key is to resist the urge to squish down the burger while it’s cooking because it will release its precious juices. By peacefully letting it cook, it will form a nice crust to contrast its juicy inside. The smoke created by hot grease in a hot pan set off my smoke detector, but the char is worth it.

In the assembly of the burger, I like a toasted bun (already had some in the fridge, getting old, but not looking old), a schmear of mayonnaise to prevent the bun from getting soggy, lettuce and tomato (left over from my house sitter friend). Excellent for the first time around, and surely again and again.

The Lesser Evil

Attempting to stay hydrated is hard enough work, the current controversy over plastic bottles makes it even harder. A number of years ago, a friend who after taking a seminar on plastics for food packaging, told me that I should not reuse my embattled Aquafina water bottle. She said that the only bottles suitable for reuse is the hard plastic Nalgene bottles, since packaged water bottles will degrade and leach chemicals into the water over time. Sold, much to the delight of all of my friends who mocked me for hanging on to the same bottle as a part of my cheap and lazy ways. Even though the single use bottles of portable water is meant to be recycled, I never felt good about pitching the bottle after emptying it once. It’s still wasteful, especially in the big picture with how much fossil fuel it takes to manufacture, ship, and recycle bottles of water. Washing and refilling is so much more practical and environmentally sound.

Now there is concern over the possible toxicity of Nalgene bottles as expressed in Alina Tugend’s article in Saturday’s New York Times. The hard plastic that Nalgene is made of can leach bisphenal A, which has proven harmful to the endocrine systems of developing fetuses and young children. I may not be or have not one of these, but I sure don’t want that crap in me. Aren’t I supposed to be drinking water for my health? The weekend prior in the Times, there was also an article about how sporting goods stores in Canada have pulled Nalgene bottles from their shelves, until more conclusive studies later this year.

So what are the alternatives? Glass is too heavy and too fragile to carry around. Stainless steel? As long as it isn’t lined with plastic, and I swear that water tastes funny in a stainless steel vessel. And what about my Brita pitcher, where I filter out the bad stuff for my better being? I don’t even know what kind of plastic it’s made from. For now, I hesitantly still drink from my Nalgene bottle, and anxiously seek something else.

Poor Mother Hubbard

I’m still sadly deficient in the kitchen post-vacation. There really is no excuse for this except pure laziness. All I have to work with is two shamelessly old potatoes and carrots, vintage 2007. From basics like this, I could make just about anything, but I like to eke out the most from my ingredients with the least amount of effort and purchasing. Again, lazy. The answer is potato carrot soup. I had the two eponymous ingredients. I also had some embarassingly old chicken stock and plain yogurt, and new-ish milk. All I had to buy was a leek, an 88 cent purchase from the local Korean market down the street.

Potato Carrot Soup - serves two

-peel and chop 2 medium potatoes and 2 carrots
-wash and slice 1 leek
-place all ingredients wiht 1 1/2 cups of chicken stock, bring to boil
-simmer for 30 minutes, until vegetables are soft and well melded with stock
-place in blender and puree with 1/3 cup of milk. DO NOT PUREE IN FOOD PROCESSOR, it will make glue!
-serve with a dollop of plain yogurt or sour cream

Sour cream makes the soup taste like liquefied potato chips, in a good way. This recipe can be doubled.

Inner City Living

I couldn’t help notice in my favorite new show on DVD, Flight of the Conchords, that these down and out musicians living on the Lower East Side, have a larger kitchen than mine! Their dingy cold water flat has enough room for a table (ostensibly an eat in kitchen!), and an enviable vintage one piece enamel sink. If they weren’t eating out of the garbage due to their impoverishness(episode 2), they could have a nice kitchen. Upper and lower cabinets could be maximized to form an L, which also creates more counterspace instead of the lame tables that flank the 20″ stove. They could even go up a size in the stove and with the “apartment size” fridge. An island could define the kitchen more and function as the eating area. Alas, it’s only a rental. And make believe.

Breakfast of champions

I’m the kind of person who likes things just so. I like my bed made before I go to work. I like my towels folded in thirds. I like my oatmeal a certain way, or it’s not worth eating. And that way is cooked with raisins and cinamon, and then topped with honey, sliced banana, toasted nuts, and milk. Some people call this particular, or even inflexible. I call it knowing what I like.

Coming back from vacation, The Littlest Kitchen is not as well stocked as it should be. My house/cat sitter left me some disparate elements - an apple, some milk, cooked oatmeal. Depressing. Reheated oatmeal without plump, rehydrated raisins and spices is akin to lumpy library paste. Apple is wan in comparison to a silky, sweet banana. I can’t start the new year like this.

What I like about my oatmeal is the added sweetness and texture. Sauteeing sliced apple would bring out the right amount of flavor with the help of some butter and cinnamon. Once they were carmelized, they could be set aside, and the same pan, now laced with goodness, can be used for bringing the oatmeal back to life. A little more butter before adding the clump of oatmeal, greases the pan, the goal is to break it down back into a semi-solid, not rigormortised form. Most of it can be broken down into smaller chunks, a small dousing of water melts it down further to its former self. When it’s warm and looks like oatmeal again, it’s ready to be layered with maple syrup (an acceptable substitute to honey which I had none), the apples, nuts, and milk. My sitter had added stone ground oatmeal to the mix, which gave a nice chewiness. I might have to add this to my repetoire.