Pulled Pollo Tacos for Papa's Day

Dear me, I have been trying to get this posted for quite a while. Every time I go to do it, though, it's late and I become overwhelmingly tired when I go to click on the button for creating a new post. It's no mystery, really. I've been running myself too hard, as I am wont to do. One really great thing (and by really great I mean really ANNOYING!) about writing a blog that talks about your life is that you have a published record of past stumbles and cycles and whatnot. So, for example, if I review last August's post about Baltimore Peach Cake and it's all like "I am so freakin' busy, I can barely see straight. I am training for a marathon and going to school and working too much and also only sleeping five hours a night. Oh hee hee , silly Kelly - it's no big deal though. I'm fine, really..." and then note that a few months later I'm posting about my digestive system going on strike, it's kinda hard to keep going on that trajectory without clear knowledge that I am being a total psychopath. (Or sociopath, whatever you call it when people do blatantly stupid things that they know will cause trouble.)

The thing is, I love training for marathons, and I really like my job, and I am over the moon about starting school, and I love to read and hang out with my friends and go to the beach which is two hours away but since I am even in love with the drive I don't mind so I'll just go ahead and make the trip down and back TWICE in four days instead of just asking off for work Monday and taking a four day vacation. I have so very much love for everything in my life and only 24 hours in every day and, as three different people helped me to realize this month, this lifetime contains far fewer of those 24 hours than we need to express everything that's in our hearts. How, then, do I make it count without running myself ragged in the process so I'm too tired to enjoy it anyway? No, really, I'm asking. If you know the answer, kindly send it to the e-mail address listed in my profile.

Ahem, now for the biggest non sequiter ever to grace the pages of this blog I'm going to talk about a chicken recipe that I love and that I made my dad for father's day. All that other stuff was just me talking and has nothing to do with the recipe. If you are still reading, thanks for letting me ramble. I know a lot of the food I post about on here is remarkably unhealthy - fried clams, cake, lasagna...I am starting to feel like I may be contributing to the obesity epidemic. But really, I have made an art over the years of learning to cook healthy food for myself that is easy enough that I can make it quickly with little thought. It's so helpful to have enough staple meals to just whip up a menu before grocery shopping and know I've got most of the week's meals covered but also not get bored (which generally leads to eating out more). One of my favorite staples is something I refer to as Pulled Pollo. It's chicken that I rub with a spice rub and then bake in the oven so that cooks in it's own juices and, when it's done, I shred it with a fork like you do with pulled pork and it's super moist and flavorful. It can be eaten in tacos, on a bed of lettuce or if you are feeling like going a little heavier, it's good enchilada filling or an interesting addition to nachos. I prefer the first two options. It just seems so much better in a light meal.

I also like to make sauteed peppers to go with it. I use bell peppers of whatever color combination I feel like eating at the time and saute them with a red onion, sliced thin, and the same spices I used for the chicken. If you leave enough time for them to cook slowly, the peppers become meltingly tender and their natural sweetness really comes through. The spices I use are a fairly classic Hispanic mix, if there is such a thing, of chili powder, cumin, garlic, salt, pepper, and sometimes cinnamon. My dad is a great lover of Latin culture and food. He's traveled quite a bit in Mexico and Central America (and has been kind enough to take me along on two of those trips). I remember the first time I went to Mexico was on a kayaking trip we took with some people from a paddling school in DC. We traveled around a lot, stopping for two days at the most in any one town over an 11 day trip. When we talk about the trip, we always end up talking about the food. It's almost never about the rivers. Instead, it's the langostino soup we ate at a restaurant right next to the river we'd just kayaked (incidentally, the same river where the langostinos and the dominant herb in the soup came from) or the liquados (milkshakes, served in a plastic bag with a straw which were insanely fresh and perfectly flavored with cinnamon and vanilla) or the street tacos which my dad can eat with impunity, owing to an iron stomach. When I had to pick something to make, I immediately thought light, Latin fair and I was right. He totally loved it...and I really enjoyed being able to take the leftover to work for lunch. Perhaps you can make it and enjoy it too. The recipe really does make an easy and healthy meal during the week and almost always provides great leftovers for the next day's lunch.

Pulled Pollo

Ingredients:
1 lbs chicken breast (I like skinless bone-in, personally)
2 T chili powder
1/2 T ground cumin
1/2 t salt
1/2 t ground black pepper
1/4 t cinnamon
1/2 t garlic powder
1 T olive oil

Method:
Preheat oven to 350. Coat chicken with the olive oil. Mix spices together until well-blended. Sprinkle or rub the spice mixture on the chicken breast. I like to rub it directly on, but it's pretty messy, just FYI. Place in a baking dish and cover with foil. Stick it in the oven and cook for about 15 minutes before turning the breasts over. Cook until almost completely finished cooking (either until a meat thermometer reads 160 or whatever method you prefer). I like to cook it for about 5-10 minutes without the cover after that point because it produces these really nice crispy bits of chicken that mix wonderfully with what is mostly a very moist chicken breast. When finished cooking, pull it out and let it cool for a minute. Then, use two forks to shred the meat apart and then mix it with the juices in the bottom of the baking dish and use it however you see fit.

Melty Bell Peppers

Chop 2-3 bell peppers of whatever color (though I suggest including some either red, yellow, or orange because they come out a lot sweeter) into strips a little bigger than a 1/4 inch wide. Slice a red onion thinly. Saute peppers and onions until they start to soften in a bit of olive oil over medium heat in a saucepan. Sprinkle with about 1/2 t of salt so they will release some of their own moisture. Then, add about 1/2 T chili powder, 1 t cumin, a dash more of salt, 1/2 t pepper, and 1/4 - 1/8 t cinnamon and stir to coat the veggies. At this point, you can go one of two routes. One, you could add a tiny bit of water or even none at all, turn the heat all the way to low, cover and let the peppers and onions slow cook in their own juice. Or, to accelerate the cooking process you can add about 1/3 C water to the peppers, let it come to a simmer, turn down to low and let the pepper and onions cook in that until the water has all cooked off. Either way is good, but the slow way is better (which I find very irritating, just so you know). This is a good thing to put on crostini, too, if you cook then down enough. That's actually how I first had then and it was delicious. Ok, that's all. I really need to go get some sleep now. Enjoy!

For Eleanor - Lasagna and Red Bull.

How do you even begin to say good bye when you are asked to do it so suddenly? I feel like I've been doing lots of saying good-bye since March but most of that was self-imposed. I had time to prepare. There is no preparing for something like this, and I suppose that's how you know it's life. Life is messy. Life doesn't follow logic. Life is wild and free and that's what makes it the magic mystery that can break our hearts equally from joy or sorrow. And that is exactly how I would describe Eleanor, too - beautiful, messy, wild, free, and full absolutely to the brim with Life. Since I was told late Monday night of her passing, I've been thinking of her - mostly unbidden thoughts, the kind that impose themselves and make it real because right after them you realize that person is now only alive in memories. What I keep remembering is going out the the Women's Farm with her, carrying a message of hope. I remember going to her bachelorette party when she up and got married so quickly. And then, when she came back to us after that marriage, how she threw herself equally into helping others AND being her truest self. And I remember how she held her head high through conflict, principled and maybe a little stubborn but, Lord, she really got that we don't crawl before anyone.

Eleanor never ever passed up a chance to dance, to wear a bright blue tu tu, or generally enjoy the hell out of herself. She really had some things about life mastered that I have struggled with my whole life and have had to face up close recently. Most of all, I mean that Eleanor was not a person who would have to wonder if she had missed out on life when the end came. She went for what she wanted, sometimes stepping on toes along the way but always going back to make it right. Unflinchingly , without that perfectionist worry about what it will look like if things are messy, she went after every experience with all her heart. And yet, she was a never-ending fountain of love and service for others. So dedicated to carrying the word that people really can change, no matter their circumstances. The woman knew how to share her light without giving away too much of it or hiding it under a bushel. There is no higher art than that. What I've been thinking since last night, as always with death, is that life is too fucking short to not live like Eleanor. It's too short to worry about what I look like to other people, to pass up a chance to shake my butt or wear something loud or risk pissing people off by doing exactly what I want. And also too short to hold back love because I'm afraid you won't return it. I hope I remember this feeling every day, forever.

One of my first thoughts after the news was, "What am I going to cook in her honor?" That's just how I do, it's been established. The immediate answer was "lasagna... and Red Bull, of course." One of the ways that Eleanor shared her light with others was by hosting potlucks - every first Sunday and lots of others in between. For whatever reason, I remember that more than one of those featured lasagna made by her. I think she just liked making it. One of those lasagna dinners was a game night at her house and it was one of my favorite nights ever. And Red Bull is just something I associate with Eleanor and her desire to stay up late dancing. I first discovered what can only be described as a Red Bull tall boy in her hand, outside the Red Room in Asheville. She was wearing a classic B-girl outfit - red and white, with those white Adidas that have a thick rubber sole on the front. She was stoked about dancing, as always. And she was drinking the biggest can of Red Bull I had ever seen in my life. (God, I just can't imagine how she can be gone from this world.) So, despite not really liking Red Bull very much, I'm gonna wash down my lasagna with a can of it. As for the lasagna itself, I decided not to hold back on what I wanted to put into it. Yes, I am broke but I wanted a lasagna with a lot to it. I wanted sausage and spinach and mushrooms and quality sauce so, dammit, that's just what I got.

Tonight, friends and loved ones of Eleanor gathered in Asheville for a candle-light vigil in her honor. To share their grief and also stories of this bright star. I wish I could have been there but it's just not in the cards, financially and logsitically. Noodles and melty cheese and filling can't even begin to touch the honor that such a life deserves, but it is comforting and rich. It is grounding and hearty. It reminds me of the joy and pleasure of being a human, alive on earth. And it reminds me of her. Every time I dance, every time I have a chance to live life fully and start to shrink back in fear, every time I have a chance to help a fellow human to climb out of the dark I hope I remember to honor her a moment in my heart. That may come close to doing her justice. Goodbye Eleanor, I hope your spirit is free and dancing it's way back to the source from which it came. You left your mark on so many hearts and lives and now we have to let you go. Travel well, sister. I love you.

Any Way You Want It Lasagna (with a side of Red Bull)



Ingredients
1 lb lasagna noodles
30 oz of tomato sauce
32 oz ricotta cheese
16 oz mozzerella cheese
3 T grated parmesean
whatever else you want to put in it (for this I used one small onion, 8 oz mushrooms sliced, 1 package frozen spinich, garlic, and italian sausage)


Method:
1. Preheat oven to 375. Get out a 9x13 lasagna pan.
2. Cook lasagna according to package instructions.
3. Saute chopped onion in olive oil until translucent. Add sliced mushrooms and then minced garlic when the mushrooms start to soften.
4. Cook sausage, I like spicy Italian for this dish, over medium heat until cook through. It's pretty yummy if you use the fat from the sausage to cook the veggies.
5. Cook the spinach in about 1/3 C of water over medium heat, until thawed.
6. Layer noodles and other ingredients as follows, repeating until ingredients are gone:
- tomato sauce (on the lasagna pan for first layer)
- noodles
- 1/3 ricotta cheese
- veggie mixture topped with sliced sausage
- 1/3 mozz.
- tomato sauce

End with noodles, sauce, Parmesan.

7. Cover with foil and bake until bubbling. Then, bake another 10 or so minutes until browned on top. Remember to let cool a bit before serving.

Home Food: Tea Party Clam Strips

Questions of place have always fascinated me. Of course everywhere is technically a place, a point in space. But there's a difference between a place and a Place, with a capital "P." Some Places are more substantial than others in their placeness, if you will. They throw off a vibe that is certainly influenced and shaped by their various cultural elements but at the same time is greater than the sum of these parts. It's holy to me, the experience of it being one that I have always identified as the nearness of my God. There are many ways to experience that nearness and feeling the uniqueness of a given Place is a big one for me.

I think my obsession with Places stems from the way I relate to where I am from and how that has made me who I am. I am from Maryland, the greatest state in the union bar none (sorry if you're from one of the other 49 states, it's nothing personal). Apparently, Marylanders are unique in their reverence for their home state. I remember once, I was walking down the street in Newport, Oregon with two Maryland friends who were temporarily living there. We stopped and looked up at the front of an old sea-weathered looking inn only to see a Maryland flag fluttering in the breeze. At my college in North Carolina, a guy I graduated with always hung a Maryland flag out of his dorm window and then wore the thing around his shoulders when he walked accross the stage at graduation. It's like, if we are living in another state, we find it necessary to let everyone know that we're from Maryland. I have it on good authority from multiple sources that people from other states don't act like that. Usually, I have a theory about why things are the way they are but on this one, I got nothin'. I am content to simply feel my heart smile about it.

In any case, my exploration and pondering of this question of Place has always contained food as an important element. All my favorite places are defined, in large part, by the food I have experienced there. Philly is spumoni from Anastasi's, prosciutto and fresh mozz pinwheels from DiBruno brothers, and, yes cheese steaks. (But not from Pat's like everyone thinks. The best ones actually come from Tony Luke's over near the fish market and while you're there you might as well pass on the cheese steak and check out the roast pork sandwich with extra sharp provalone and rabini because it blows the best cheese steak straight outta the water.) North Carolina is barbeque. Not just one kind either, but a subtley different kind for each part of the state. Daytona Beach Florida is Angel and Phelps chocolate and sandwiches from the Flagler Fish Company. Even places I haven't been to are defined by food. My family's homeland of Lithuania, where I haven't ever visited (YET!) is dumplings, meat, potatoes, sour cream, and poppy seeds in some combination I have not experienced but can feel in my bones as hearty and good.

When I became aware that I was living in exile in North Carolina and that my heart was begging me to go home to Maryland, I started craving and cooking foods that invoked this place to me. Old Bay on everything, tapioca pudding like my dad always made me growing up and that you can buy pre-made at the grocery store, scrapple (delicious block of corn meal soaked in pork broth that you slice and fry up nice and crispy). Food, as much as missing my parents and friends and the landscape and the country and the city and, well, pretty much everything, drew me home. It was a major bummer when I thought I was gluten intolerant because pretty much every food that spoke of home to me, that I was looking forward to eating when I finally got to come back here, has gluten in it. Downey's fried chicken, Procolino's pizza, Berger's cookies, beaten biscuits, Lake Trout sandwiches, fish fry fare, scrapple, prezzle dogs from the Crumpton sale, Amish baked goods at the farmer's market...oh sigh, it just wasn't fair. Thankfully, two months of rest and being very nice to myself but also asking myself a lot of questions, and a couple weeks of thyroid hormone replacement therapy have healed me of gluten intolerance and I can eat it again. My gratitude for this fact cannot be overstated. Every bite of gluten-containing foods that I thought I could never have again is a prayer in itself. My body and soul whisper in unison "thank you." I am much happier this way.

And so, to express my gratitude, I plan to post a smattering of posts called "Home Food" to honor the foods that are uniquely of this Place to me, that make me know I'm where I belong, and that I am so very thrilled to be able to eat once again. I was going to call it "Maryland Food" but the truth is I grew up traveling to Philly a lot and to Deleware and really some of the foods I would want to share are not in Maryland, though most are. Home food for me seems to be a combo of authentic Italian influence, typical Northeastern greasy fare, Pennsylvania Dutch/Amish food, some things that are distinctly Maryland in that they meld north and south (they don't call it the Old Line State for nothin') and, of course, seafood. First up is a food that I truly only eat once a year at the Chestertown Tea Party. The Tea Party is a street festival that my colonial home town holds every year to celebrate the pre-revolution protest that was staged here in support of the Boston tea party. People dress up as British soldiers and Tories and colonial radicals and throw each other and some boxes of tea into the Chester River. Complete with canon fire, very fun no matter how many times I see it. Besides the reenactment, the Tea Party is special for the food that is sold there, particularly these tasty clam strips. Breaded and deep friend clams. They are equal parts greasy, crispy, and, um, oystery (I guess?). It's not easy to describe, you really have to eat them to know what I mean. The best I can do for you is show you these photos. I love how they turned out.

Carrot Cake for Mama

My ma, she's an awesome lady. But I haven't always recognized that. In fact, I have at times been a really crappy daughter - a critical, know-it-all, ingrate to be exact. So much of living at home again has been about living amends - to amend meaning to change, so living change is what I mean - in my relationships with my parents. As good a kid as I was, I can see from my much more adult perspective the ways that I have taken my parents for granted, like most kids do, but also under appreciated my parents as people. Actual adult humans with lives and personalities that have nothing to do with me being their child. Revolutionary!

One very cool thing about my mother that I have thanked God for, literally, in the last few months is the way that she taught me to eat. Both of my parents had a huge impact on my food life - dad being a chef who comes from Lithuanian foodies (more on him later) and mom being the ultra-health conscious mom before Whole Foods made it cool. My lunch in school always had whole wheat bread and carrot sticks while everyone else got to have Lunchables and pudding snacks. It was a major bummer back then. Today, I am finally grateful. Truly proud of my mom for buying Powerhouse sandwiches from the Railway Market in Easton, which consisted of sprouts, lettuce, shredded carrot, and tomato on super duper whole grain bread while everyone else's parents were showing them how to subsist on McDonald's.

Note: I am not sorry if that sounds snobby or self-righteous. I'm just not, and here's why. The ways that I relate to food and eating and my body have caused me a great deal of pain in life. In all my struggles with food, particularly this past year, I have come to recognize the importance of the way my mom ingrained healthy eating in me from the very start. My programming, it's a little wacky to be sure. But I think of people like me who also have to deprogram poor nutrition habits before they can even start to get better. It's like I got a Skip Ahead card. And that's what I really appreciate about mom today. All the ways that the bar was raised in my life because she was so brave and did things differently from her mom, made life different for herself and for me. I'm not just talking carrots sticks here, but my joy for eating healthy, fresh food that feeds my body well and gives me an edge in dealing with life is one of the more tangible gifts of being my mother's daughter. On Saturday, my mom had a birthday. Since I'm broke as hell, making food was really the only gift I was able to give.

Memorial Day weekend has always been a big deal - my home town has a big street festival, my mom's and high school best friend's birthdays are then and it's the gateway to summer time, often the point at which Maryland's weather heads for humid and never looks back until sometimes October. So, I made a perfectly summer meal - grilled lamb, corn on the cob, and salad made of fresh lettuce from our garden. And, to celebrate my mom's birthday, a carrot cake with lemon ginger cream cheese frosting. It just felt appropriate when I asked myself what I should make her. She's always made a delicious carrot cake that was my paternal grandfather's recipe and carrots just remind me of my mom, always will. And really, as cakes go carrot cake is fairly healthy. There are almost 2 cups of shredded carrot in it, walnuts with their Omega-6 fatty acids, and oil instead of butter which allows for more unsaturated and less saturated fat. I'm not even going to try to pass cream cheese icing off as healthy, but lord it is sweet and heavenly. My recipe is from the Joy of Cooking but as I was baking, I kept thinking of variations that would be fun to try, so I will list those below also. One way that I deviate from the recipe is that they say to use two round cake pans or a loaf pan, but I am partial to the bunt for carrot cake. Fortunately, this gave me an opportunity to use one of these lovely cake pans that I got from a local charity thrift store - for like $5 total.















Seriously! Aren't they darling? Anyway, recipe with proposed variations is below. Happy Birthday mom!

Carrot Cake with Ginger Lemon Cream Cheese Icing (variation on Joy of Cooking)






















Preheat oven to 350. Grease and flour two 9x2 round cake pans, two 8 inch square pans, or a bunt pan (this recipe also makes really great cupcakes).

Whisk together thoroughly in a large bowl:
1.5 C flour
1 C sugar
1.5 t baking soda
1 t baking powder
1 t ground cinnamon
1/2 t ground cloves
1/2 t ground nutmeg
1/2 t ground allspice
1/2 t salt

Whisk together in a small bowl, then using a rubber spatula, stir in the flour mixture just until combined:

2/3 C vegetable oil
3 large eggs

Stir in:
1.5-2 cups shredded carrots
1 C chopped walnuts
(optional: 1 C golden raisins, 1/2 C canned crushed pineapple, lightly drained)

Scrape the batter into whichever pan or pans you've chosen and spread evenly. Bake until a toothpick comes out clean, usually about 25-30 minutes though it will probably be shorter if you do cupcakes. Longer if you do one large pan.

Variation ideas:
I have never tried the JoC suggestion of adding pineapple, but it got me thinking about the possibility of trying that with lime zest and ginger in the cake itself (and possibly making the icing with that as well) for a slightly more summery version. The other thing I've been thinking about is adding other shredded stuff that may compliment the carrots, like parsnip (I actually substituted parsnips for carrots once, it was delightful), coconut, and zucchini. The add-ins can always be changed up. Some I thought of were crystalized ginger, chopped dried fruit, and other types of nuts like pecans or hazelnuts. It's a good recipe to play with so try whatever strikes your fancy. Icing recipe is below.

Lemon Ginger Cream Cheese Frosting

Ingredients:
8 oz cream cheese, softened
1/4 C butter, softened
1 lb (about 3.5 cups) confectioner's sugar, sifted
zest of one lemon
1 t. ground ginger

Cream the butter and cream cheese until smooth.
Add zest and ginger and beat until incorporated evenly.
Slowly add confectioner's sugar. It's best to add it in three additions.

Note: This makes a TON of icing. If you aren't doing layers with icing between them, it will be way to much so only make half.