Summer in the City: Bastille Day and Basil Watermelon

"And babe, don't you know it's a pity the days can't be like the nights in the summer in the city, in the summer in the city..." Lovin Spoonful a la Mark Sebastian

It's hot, stormy and muggy in DC. And while the rain is good for the flora, there are times when the rainy season reminds me of the DC winters--dark, grey, and foreboding. In the Most Powerful City in the World, the fragile egos seem to reach their expansive boundaries and bump into each other, sending needless jolts of electrifying, un-directed frustration and anger into the sweltering air.

A good way to cool it down is a trick we learned from our Grandbob down in Texas: Watermelon soothes a multitude of angst.

When I was young, Grandbob gave us large boat-shaped sections of watermelon (it was Texas, afterall), which we would carve into various shapes as we ate. Sometimes we'd add salt, but it was always the antidote to the Texas heat.

As an adult, I've always enjoyed bringing it to parties. Now I know, many of you probably know the tequila recipe: you cut up your watermelon and add some fresh squeezed lime, hand torn cilantro, a tad of salt and a dash of tequila and soak. More or less tequila based on taste. The reason why this works is because tequila and lime should imitate the nature of the rind on your palate. It adds a little bitterness and punch.

But to me, while that's ok, there is something so much better. And, after testing it on a few parties and friends, I feel confident in saying this may replace your current approach to serving "dressed-up" watermelon:

Cube or ball watermelon in a large bowl. Add the juice and zest of 1-2 limes, depending on watermelon quantity. Add a bit of cayenne pepper, to taste. Why? To me the taste of the cayenne pepper matches the deep red of the watermelon, without altering the watermelon's flavor. Add just a teeny hint of chili powder. Not enough to taste like "chili watermelon" but, as I call it, to "anchor the flavor"--to help your palate feel the flavor and heat you just added with the pepper is familiar and memorable, yet new and interesting. Add a bit of sea salt. Sea salt is generally lighter in taste than regular salt, but regular will do in a pinch. Add a very small amount of honey or agave (if you're trying to cut carbs from...watermelon...which is high carb). You want it to add dimension to the current watermelon sweetness, not for it to taste like honeyed watermelon. Add a chiffonade of basil.

Chiffa-what? I just heard your eyeballs ask me.

Chiffonade. That's fancy. talk (aka French for "made of rags") for the following method: Get a few basil leaves (5-10 to start), roll them lengthwise like a cigar (Side note: I'm not promoting tobacco use or smoking. I'm promoting basil use. Only not smoking. Just eating). With a sharp knife, cut across the rolled basil, creating small, thin ribbons of basil. Do this for as much basil as you want to add to the watermelon. Fluff those mama jama's up and throw them into the watermelon dish. Fold or gently toss the ingredients together so everything's distributed evenly. There should be enough lime to keep the basil fresh for a few hours.

The result is a striking deep red watermelon with ribbons of green basil and flecks of neon green from the lime zest. You'll notice adding the pepper and chili powder that the watermelon seems to naturally grow a deeper red. I'll post pics once I make mine tomorrow am for a work thing.

This can be made a few hours prior to where you're taking it, or right before serving. It takes about 5 minutes to assemble if the watermelon's pre-cut and once you get used to chiffonade knife-work and have your ingredients together. If you want to prep this the night before, put everything together but the basil and the lime zest. Just because once basil is wounded (i.e. cut) it gets dark green and then kinda wilty within a few hours. The lime will help, but still... Lime zest turns bitter over time. You want it to echo the bitterness of the rind, not actually be bitter.

Again, the goal is to bring out some of the rich subtlety of what some people think is the straightforward and simple flavor of watermelon. So when you are adding the other ingredients, remember the goal is to compliment and amplify the fresh, exuberant flavor of watermelon--the sweetness, some of the subtle bitterness and acidity of its rind, its crunchiness, etc. Better to be conservative and add a little more than to have any of the other ingredients overwhelm the watermelon rather than enhance it.

If you want to try it, here's your shopping list: Watermelon, lime, cayenne pepper, chili powder, sea salt, fresh basil, honey.

Aretha Franklin: Soup

"All I'm askin' Is for a little respect when you come home!" - Your Ingredients, and also, Aretha

I'm pretty convinced if food was a rockstar it'd be Aretha Franklin. Passionate, fiery, tender, soulful, food draws something out of its audience. But, it really does need a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T to get the most out of it. When I say respect I mean, know your food. Know what it tastes like raw, cooked in different methods. Focus on bringing what makes it so awesome out in your food prep, try using complimentary flavors, textures, temperatures. The goal is to showcase the food and delight your palate.

That's why soup is one of my favorite foods ever. It's simple, versatile, and focused on the ingredients. They're like sandwiches, only you use bowls and spoons instead of hands. And if you're doin a low carb diet, you can still eat real soup, unlike sandwiches, which then become lettuce wraps.

Soup should be exciting. The reason why lotsa folks don't think it is, is because like all great things, it's super easy to make terrible, even though it's not difficult to make it memorable. And, because it is simple, it comes in over-salted creepy cans. That's right, creepy cans. That and all the negative connotations with which our society has burdened soup's rep. Like the following:

-- Summer Camp cafeteria lady: Angry, uni-browed and you're pretty sure she hates you and laced it with hair and arsenic.
--  Childhood memories: Soup was whatever was leftover and gross in the fridge that needed to be tossed.
-- Diets: Cabbage or fake chicken broth.
-- Chick food: I'm lookin' at you, beefcake.
-- Seinfeld's Soup nazi: need I say more.

Luckily for me, my mom was a master soupierre (French for: one who makes soup. Don't go looking it up, just trust me.) We had chilled soups, chunky soups, hot soups, spicy soups, vegetarian soups, hearty meat-filled soups. Our soups were versatile, experimental, funky, fun, healthy, and most importantly, delicious. Some of my favorite childhood memories are of those times when I stood on a chair to help brown the meat, or saute the aromatics.

So two days ago, when I was eeking my way through life on motrin, sunglasses, and sleep, I made soup.

There are two important elements to good soup: the first is having good ingredients. The second is, when making your soup, DON'T USE WATER.

**Important sidenote/rant coming up **
I'm serious. if you use water to make soup, baby angels lose their wings and God sheds tears of shame and anger. You don't want either of those happening, so, for the sake of your soup, for the sake of the baby angels, and to save the tears of God, please don't use water.

What should you use, then? Stock, broth, juice, beer, wine, milk, pretty much anything but plain water. In cooking, water is used to boil, steam, poach, or thin stuff, and that's about it. Even when making stock or broth, I typically use a blend of water, wine/beer and juce. Why? Because the other materials add flavor, depth, and texture. If you use beer, for example, the malt breaks down and acts as a binding agent to make your liquid thicker. The hops add a depth and dimension to your dish that otherwise is difficult to create. If you have proteins, the wine, beer, and citrus juices act as natural tenderizers, making your proteins more...tender (there we go), and locking in the juicy goodness that it is. Milk adds a creaminess and creates a fuller flavor. Even using 1% (what I use). The sugars in all of these ingredients also help.

We can talk about how to make quick, flavorful stocks and broths later, but even for those who don't cook, seriously, write this on your shopping list: chicken/beef/veggie stock/broth. Even a bouillon cube (I just shuddered a little, won't lie) is better than plain water. Of course then it's a bit salty, but you get my point.
** Important sidenote/rant over. You may now come out of hiding**

Ok, so I started with some dried split green and yellow peas, lentils, barley, and little alphabet characters. Why? becase I had a "soup blend" of those ingredients. It said to add water. I wanted to fire off an angry email (or cannon) to the company, but the computer screen was too brightly lit for that, so instead I raised my fist to the ceiling and continued.

I added a 1.5 - 1 ratio of chicken stock to the dried barley and veggie blend, and 0.5-1 ratio of red wine. (Translastion: 1 c. of the blend, 1.5 c chicken stock, 1/2 c wine). As I could barely see, I didn't make my own stock, I used it from a box.

I brought it to a boil and then turned it down to a low simmer. I then added celery, and a can (yes, a can) of stewed tomatoes. Salt, pepper, cayenne pepper, and a few hours later, I had soup. It was good but needed, cumin and fresh cilantro. And maybe ham. But overall, considering I could barely see, and as my housemate, L, is graciously allowing our home to be more like a vampire cave, not bad.

*before you judge me, please remember I have had my kitchen for 3 days. During which I've been unable to go grocery shopping because I'm blinded by light right now).

Yesterday, I was rummaging around my things and I found some dried wild mushrooms! Eureka! I reconstituted the mushrooms using 1 c white wine and 1 c chicken broth (again, water-free works for me). Once they were ready to rock and roll, I used the chicken-mushroom stock as the base for my soup, adding the pea, bean, and barley mixture, tomatoes, celery, salt, pepper, and cayenne pepper. I was really hurtin for some chili powder, cumin, and fresh herbs--thyme, cilantro, anything! Because of the heartiness from the mushrooms, I added much more pepper and cayenne, let the liquid soak in real good, and then added about 3/4 c of 1% milk and then simmered until it became sort of a creamed soup. Delish! Although I'd still like some spicy sausage in it. And fresh herbs. Fresh herbs are game changers, folks, but that's for another day. Oh, and onion or garlic. Unfortunately, I may as well have been wishing for unicorns and leprechauns because that was not going to happen. But that's the beauty of soup, guys--even a blinded post-PRK person like me yesterday could do it well enough to dish up and enjoy!

Beauty and the Beast: PRK and cooking

"If she doesn't eat with me, then she doesn't eat at all! Grr" - Beast, Beauty and the Beast

The day before yesterday (aka the day after I got eyeball surgery -- that's the technical name for it, by-the-by, PRK is just fancy), I was feelin pretty good. Sure, my eyes felt uncomfortable but I really had no idea what people were talking about when they said it was so difficult. They had me so nervous. That morning, the doctor assured me the worst was yet to come, and that by the afternoon it would probably be pretty painful, and to expect things to get worse before it got better. "PRK is just an intensive post-operative recovery process" she warned me. I smiled. I'd be fine. I didn't even bother getting the eye-numbing drops prescription filled. Why? Because they're supposed to be avoided if possible, and because, well, I didn't need them...

The night before last I woke up four times because my eyes started really feeling uncomfortable. You could almost call it...

Pain.

Eyes are swollen, burny, stingy, and super-light sensitive. I keep them shut unless I absolutely have to have them open...

When yesterday came, I had to pry my eyes open to put in the antibiotics. They did not want to be open, no matter how dark my room was, it just wasn't dark enough. And the stinging and burning! I found some motrin and took it; afterwards I realized, I had made all these grand plans with people because the day before I had been so delightfully smug about my recovery process!

I found my phone, and, to be able to unlock it, tilted it an angle so I didn't look straight into the light, and finally unlocked it and called my friend, J. J took me to the doc for the procedure, drove me back home, made me go to sleep while she went to two different pharmacies and waited for three hours to get prescriptions filled. While I slept. I owed her and her boyfriend brunch, at the least. But that was not for yesterday. She understood.

After a few more naps and motrin and sensory deprivation, I realized I was a little hungry. We don't have much in the kitchen as we're still trying to unpack stuff, purchase food items, etc. So I made a yummy salad out of some organic baby greens, diced cucumber, a few sliced grape tomatoes, cubed peach pieces, chopped celery, blueberries, and pine nuts. But what for dressing?

I dug around the fridge, avoiding the light--I had mustard. Looks like honey mustard vinaigrette!

To make a honey mustard vinaigrette is super easy: it's just spicy brown mustard, honey, extra virgin olive oil, and vinegar. I like white wine vinegar for this. Like everything else, I eyeball and taste my way to figure out what I like. For my salad, which was on the large side, as it was my entire lunch, I used more or less the following:

1 T (tablespoon) spicy brown mustard.
2 tsp honey (you can use more or less, to taste)
2 tsp white wine vinegar
2 tsp olive oil

Mix it all up and toss your salad in it--it is so nice and light and fresh and great for salads with nuts, berries, and veggies. If you have horseradish, that will bump this dressing up into awesome.sauce. Or, use it as a marinade on your poultry next time you want to bake/pan fry a dish with a lighter, but still flavorful taste!

It definitely lightened my mood. After which I took another two naps, had another motrin, and made...veggie soup...coming up next!

Alice in Wonderland: The Oysters...

"'O Oysters, come and walk with us!' The Walrus did beseech. 'A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, along the briny beach. [...] A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said, 'Is what we chiefly need. Pepper and vinegar besides Are very good indeed"  --Lewis Carroll

I think maybe the sheer boredom of being uncomfortable in my eyeballs but not in enough pain to actually enjoy having to do nothing but rest is getting to me. I definitely have to rest them. In fact I'm typing right now with my eyes closed. I'm not kidding. I'll let you know when I open them.  And I apologize for any typos, but now this feels like a challenge to me.

So I've been writing a lot of reviews in Yelp lately (plug: check out yelp, by user: Katherine H. Filter with Location: Washington, D.C. you should be able to reach me.)

**eyes are open so I can check this info on yelp: go to "Member Search" small tab on right. Type: "Katherine H." Filter by "Location" 2nd mini-page should be "Washington, D.C." Select it. You should see me. eyes closing again...**

A few things about having no kitchen for five weeks. You end up eating out a lot. And hten you start noticing things. At first you think it's unique, or that it's you. It's not. Sometimes patterns are there. I'm not talking Beautiful Mind or Consipiracy Theory here, I'm talkin reality.

I don't like that every place I go to get oysters, they always serve crappy little oyster or saltine crackers. Sure, I get it, that's why they're called oyster crackers, and you don't want anything competing. But honestly, you think cheap little plastic baggies of prepackaged crackers can cut it in  your fine dining establishment??

Now I want to make my own oyster cracker recipe and take them with me next time I go oyster-eating. And then I will pull them out and ask the chef to please eat one with one of his oysters and come talk to me if he wants to get serious about oysters. Like cannonball heavy serious.

Rant over.

Opening eyes. Still stings...

First Night: New Kitchen, New Vision

Finally. It is complete.

Our long-awaited kitchen renovations are finally to the point where we can use it. The days of feeling sick from eating processed food is over.

Sweet hallelujah.

As is my luck, it was finished yesterday, the same day I voluntarily underwent PRK corrective eye surgery. That's a different story for a different day. Like maybe Halloween. Anyway, the recovery process hasn't been that bad, and eager to return to my normal self, I cooked my dinner tonight. With my new eyes. In my new kitchen.

My kitchen wares are not yet fully unpacked. And my eyes are a distraction. But I managed to concoct a "curried" chicken and couscous. "Curried" because I think that's a similar familiar flavor, but really it was just an experiment.

First I took a boneless chicken breast L left for me in the fridge and I liberally sprinkled both sides with an herb mixture I obtained in Turkey--primarily dried oregano and basil. I added fresh ground pepper and cayenne pepper. I then hand-crushed Turkish lemon sea salt until it was a fine powder and rubbed all the ingredients in my hands so that there'd be just enough salt and so the chicken would absorb the other ingredients faster. I then marinated it in a white wine vinegar and olive oil. I put it on a small plate and popped it back in the fridge.

After 1.5 hours, I pulled that bad.boy out and heated up the wok. I put a little bit of olive oil in it and then laid the chicken breast. After the side was brown, I flipped it. Separately I chopped up three stalks of celery and a handful of dried apricots. I added those to the wok with some water, a little belgian white wheat ale, some pomegranate molasses, and half of a lemon. Impatient, I pulled out the chicken, chopped it into bite sized pieces, and put it back in the wok. I added a few grape tomatoes, reduced the heat and simmered.

I had some leftover couscous, so I just poured some of the hot liquid over the couscous to bring it back to life and heat it without hurting it. I then added the chicken mixture with the sauce, and some slivered almonds to finish it.