It has very abruptly become the time of year in New England when roasting vegetables becomes especially appealing, which brings me to two things I’ve learned:

• Brussels sprouts, which I rarely consider edible, are rendered vastly tastier when picked, roasted, and consumed when tiny. By “tiny” I mean less than an inch in diameter. Once they are golf ball-sized, they are just icky.
• Roasted beets are made even better when cubed and soaked in cold water for up to an hour before roasting. Someone told me this tip the other day and I tried it last night. Result: the beets retain their shape and texture better and the flavor is even better.

I was in Porter Square Books yesterday; I never buy anything, but I like to pretend I might. I was looking at Jessica Seinfeld’s Deceptively Delicious, which had made it to the discount section. Most of the recipes seemed to be ‘puree something that’s close in colour and blend it in; using pureed carrots as the moistener in meatballs, for example, one that kept on my mind was her original ‘recipe’, a couple spoonfuls of butternut squash in some macaroni and cheese. It just stuck in my brain, so I decided to try something similar.

I am not a child, and I am actually very fond of roasted squash, so in this case, I wasn’t trying her method (which was, basically, to mix in very small amounts of squash so that kids wouldn’t taste it. I went all out; the mac and cheese sauce started with a dark roux (non-traditional, but I really like the nuttiness that it brings over a light roux). I made it with bread flour instead of regular flour, and it was great; the finer texture made it much smoother much faster. Then I melted half a block of cream cheese into it, and added maybe half a cup of roasted, pureed acorn squash (butternut squash, while delicious, and technically cheaper than acorn, all weighed at least 4lbs, while the acorn was under 1lb. I like squash, certainly. But I’d be eating it for 4 days if I’d gone for that).

That got whisked until smooth (I added a small bit of pasta water when it seemed it needed it), and then I added about a cup of sharp cheddar, and a few sprinkles of ground cayenne (my paprika is missing).

I reflect that when I was a child, I thought that recipes were astonishing, and I remember, being 9 or 10, and thinking to myself that I hoped when I grew up, I’d be able to write just one recipe. I didn’t even think of the idea of making more than that - recipes were obviously *hard*, and I just wanted to create *one*. Now that I can create recipes, including pastries and such, from my head, I never measure anything. It’s *awful*. People ask me for my recipes for things, and I haven’t the foggiest (I can’t give you the recipe for my baitcon frozen custard- it all just got made up on the fly). I’m also terrible at how I measure; the only reason I know the cheddar amount is because I put it into a 2 cup measuring cup while it was waiting. I shredded it ‘until I have about a fist sized lump.

This is totally useless as a measurement to anyone who doesn’t have access to my fist at time of shredding.

anyway, it was AMAZINGLY good. Probably the best mac and cheese I’ve made. Eben had a bowl and said it was quite good, so I’m definitely going to do it again.

For the last twenty-five years, my mother has been convinced I can’t cook. Now, I admit, she has excellent reasons for this. I’ve always been…uhm, an adventurous cook, to say the least, and my mother, she…is not. She’s very strictly of the follow the recipe, get predictable results school of cooking, and I admire that. I wasn’t able to follow a recipe until my mid-twenties, and it made for some gods-awful food while I was of an age that I was doing it with ingredients she’d paid for.

But I’ve discovered something. Even if I was still the worst cook in the world (which I am not), there is a magic pass-code to convincing my mother that I might be onto something. That passcode is, “The Food Network has asked me to send them a video.” Even if I had made the most horrid thing possible in the video (I did not; I did a very good sous vide), it would not matter. Teevee might want me, and so I Have Developed Credibility.

So mom mailed me yesterday, because she bought some tortilla strips for salad toppings a few weeks ago (probably Fresh Gourmet or something similar) when they were on sale, but she can’t find them now, and they’re rather pricey, so she decided to ask me about them. This is what she got:

Joan Clarkson wrote:

> I am looking for a recipe to make tortilla chips
>
> a few weeks ago I purchased a small bag of tortilla chips for adding to salads,
>now I cant find them anywhere and they were too much money anyway
>
> they were cut almost like 1 to 2 inch long fettucine shapes and were delicious
>in the salads almost adding a nutty flavour
>
> I cant find a recipe so that I can make them myself
>
> any suggestions?

Buy some plain *wheat* tortilla wrappers. You want the wheat rather than the corn, which won’t crisp unless you fry them or bake them a lot. Then you’ll melt some butter/margarine with a little garlic oil. This will vary by how many you’re making, but for a 12″ tortilla or two 6″ ones, I’d use 2 tablespoons margarine and a teaspoon of oil (it’s for the intensity of the flavour, not as a fat). Cut the tortillas into strips, and toss them in the garlicked butter until well coated, then put them on a pan, and sprinkle them with powdered garlic, onion powder, paprika, dried parsley, pepper, etc - I don’t know what the seasonings that were on yours, but since it was essentially acting as a crouton, I assume you’re likely looking for a strong flavour; you’ll need to make your own decisions when it tastes right. Then put them under a broiler for about 2 minutes - keep watching ‘em! Take them out as they brown, shake them, and if they’re not quite crisped enough, give them another minute. You’ll want to store them in a paper bag to keep them crisp if there are leftovers.

This might also be really good if, instead of garlic oil, you did one with the margarine, sesame oil, and sprinkled them with garlic powder and sesame seeds, and served on a salad with one of those asian vinaigrettes.

S.

I should probably actually test this sometime, but I figure she’ll tell me if I really screwed up

So I bought some fennel yesterday. It was the second time in my life that I had ever bought fennel, the first time being just before the gum infection that meant I was eating nothing for a week and a half. It wilted and had to be disposed of. Yesterday, I saw it again, so it came home with me. Now, my entire knowledge of fennel was this; it has a flavour akin to anise, and it seems to be a bulb (it might not have been, but it looked like one, and turned out to be).

I was looking at it, and trying to think on what I might do with it without resorting to the intarwebz; just to see what my totally uninformed brain did. I peeled a layer off the bulb and tasted it. Nice. Slight sweetness, with an odd flavour that I’d call umami if I was more informed about the flavour (I’m just getting my head around it). The savoury/meaty import of it made me think it would really do well with some time in the frying pan, with simply some pepper, salt and olive oil. I sliced it, and started to cook it at a low temp, turning from time to time and letting the sweet/sugar part of the cut edges caramelize, which it does nicely. A taste determined I was on the right way, but I needed vegetables to be either very crisp or much softer than it was, so I added some of the fresh made turkey stock, and turned it down to simmer for a while.

Those of you who have ANYTHING resembling a clue will realize that what I did was reinvent frickin’ braised fennel. I’m honestly not sure if this is inane, or proof that I’m developing some genuinely good instincts on the food front. After the slow braise (when the turkey stock had cooked away I let them cook for another minute to bring back a bit of the caramelization), I took the pieces out, dipped one cut edge in parmesan, and served it to myself on almond pilaf. It was astonishingly good. I came to the computer to see how other people cook it, and came across this at Epicurious, which is, aside from my parmesan addition, and using my fresh turkey stock for all the liquid, ingredient for ingredient the recipe I just ‘invented’.

I’m sure people will say that’s nifty, but I feel sort of sheepish.