A Pancake

Yes, just one of them.

Dilemma:

The usual, I am starving. No, I'm just hungry. But I spent the afternoon doing homework and spending inordinate amounts of money on next semester's books, so now I need dinner.

Abstract:

I decide on noodles, and cook up a potful. While cooking, I decide that I need to have food for the upcoming week, and decide that I will make three dishes of noodles to save, then eat the rest for dinner. The noodles finish, I ladle them into dishes, and there are no leftovers. This situation leaves me with the distinct positive that I have food for the next few days and the distinct negative that I still have no dinner for tonight - and since now is the pressing time of hunger, it didn't really even out very well. I return to my room to look for more food, and spot a dish on the top of my closet. At first glance, it appears to be an ordinary Tupperware dish with a cup and a half or so of flour in it. However, I know better - it was a gift of pancake mix, thoughtfully given to me. My neglect was that I put it in a dish to avoid spilling and consequently managed to throw out the box, which had the recipe for mixing up the mix into some kind of edible form. My legendary incompetence with mixes cautioned me against just adding water and seeing what happened, so I took the only natural route: went to google and typed in 'what do you mix with pancake mix to make pancakes', then hit enter. Results varied, but standard ingredients seemed to include  eggs and milk.

Battle Plan:

I put in one small egg, a dash of vanilla (it sounded good?), and enough milk so it would stir and look like pancake batter. Then, I carried my plate, frying pan, and spatula down to the kitchen after putting some olive oil in the pan so that I could use it. The pan heated, and I carefully poured the batter in. After some thought, I put it all in at once. After all, I was only cooking for myself, so why make multiple little pancakes? The reason quickly became obvious as my pancake began to cook and rose to proportions similar to those of my Irish Soda Bread, previously described (there is a picture now, and yes that is a chair behind it) ;) I hovered over it, watching for bubbles and waiting for the inevitable one that wouldn't pop, which would signal that I would have to turn it over. By this time, the label 'pan cake' was totally appropriate; the batter had covered the entire bottom of the frying pan and rose about halfway up the sides ... I've seen smaller shortbreads! Apparently, there can be some justification for making more than one pancake, even if for only one person! At last, a bubble popped and failed to cave in on itself. It sat there, staring at me out of its empty eye, and I stared right back, wishing it away. It persisted stubbornly, and I thought of it about as highly as Pliny thought of the Christians, as he wrote to the Roman Emperor Trajan that even if there was nothing wrong with the Christian faith, certainly there was something the matter with people who were that persistent in their beliefs. (Sorry, let me get back on track ... I've been doing a lot of Roman history reading lately ...) However, I eventually came to the rather inevitable conclusion (helped by the smell of cooked pancake) that I would, actually, have to turn that monster over. I grabbed another spatula for support, and carefully eased underneath the monstrous gooey mass. Martha Stewart would have been proud of me (maybe?), for the bulk of the pancake actually flipped back into the pan, onto the uncooked side, and without turning in half - major accomplishments, I suppose. After a brief cerebration on the merits of becoming a chef and deciding that turning one pancake was hardly sufficient credentials and immediately dropping the idea, I realised that my hand was uncomfortably warm and looked down to see that some batter had slopped onto my hand. The fact that I was congratulating myself on turning a pancake over while my hand burned should have made me drop out of college and enroll in one of those places with the white walls and nice people, but instead I just turned on the tap and washed my hand off. I suppose extremes are not always desirable, as the Latin proverb says ne quid nimis, advising nothing too much and moderation in all things, so I shall neither be a chef nor burn myself to ashes. Back to food - it cooked (that's not so exciting) and I took it out of the pan - by then quite firm, so it was uneventful as well. Carried things back to my room. 


Result:


One very large pancake, over which I spread cream cheese and drizzled a little honey. The warmth of the pancake melted the toppings, and I ate it with great enjoyment while typing up an inordinately long blog post about strange things and deleting half of it because my mind would start wandering in the middle of a sentence and I would say strange things about people, places, and events that most folks have never heard of before and that didn't exactly have anything to do with the topic at hand. (The references I have caved on and left in I hope I have tied in well enough to at least be entertaining.) 


Reflections:


Make more than one pancake, prat. 


Drawbacks: 


I think I should have maybe added some more to the batter:egg ratio. I doubt I've ever had a more protein-filled pancake before, although it wasn't bad ... 


Positives: 


I love pancakes, and it was actually pretty good. It wasn't even gooey in the middle. 


Net Disaster = Zero

Mac & Cheese

Last night: hungry, wanted dinner, didn't have time to go get it from the cafeteria, must less cook.

Cocoa-Nut: "Oh, I'll make dinner for you"

Later ... eating warm macaroni and cheese

I cannot even begin to describe how much of a win that was!

---

Also, I have not been blogging here since I have not been cooking! The last few weeks have been utterly crazy and I also discovered that I am 'behind' on how many meals I have been eating in the cafeteria, and since I really don't feel like paying for all that and not using it, I've been eating up there more often. I have not forgotten I have this blog; it's just that part of the semester where life goes through the ceiling (or the floor, as the case may be)!

Irish Soda Bread

Well, friends, I know that this post is breaking with tradition, but I simply had to share something rather exciting. This evening, I made Irish Soda Bread, which was rather a new experiment for me. I have made various kinds of bread before, but this was a new recipe and I was eager to see how it would turn out.

I took a picture of it. I really and truly did, knowing how much you, my loyal readers *coughcough* would enjoy such a sight. However, my camera card and my computer are still giving each other the silent treatment, and refuse to communicate even long enough for me to frenetically drag a picture from the camera card onto my desktop. Alas, we are thus left picture-less.

Edit: here is a picture!!! :)

Nonetheless, I will endeavor to describe the bread to you. It was a soft dough, raisined with raisins, (I was going to say 'peppered with raisins', but that somehow doesn't work ...), and sitting in a bowl. Then, it was a gooey lump encased in a shell of flour, being twisted and mangled into something stretchy and pliable. Later on, it was growing, looking like a bucket does when snow keeps on falling, making it into a soft, white mountain muffin hat. Eventually I gave it a good punching, then cut an 'x' across the top with a very sharp knife, being careful not to slice myself as well. Then I let it rise some more.

During this stage in the process, the bread proceeded to expand until it filled up an astonishing amount of the large baking sheet I had placed it on. I had expected a normal-sized loaf of bread; this was quickly becoming a very no-nonsense looking bread mountain. I wondered if I had accidentally genetically modified it somehow, or maybe given it steroids. (My friends, when I came out of the kitchen and told them this, laughed it off, by the way.) After it had scared me long enough, I put it in the oven to kill the rebel yeast-soldiers who were evidently bent on taking over the kitchen, if not the world, and left.

Ostensibly, I now had free time. That is a rare occurrence in my world, but seeing the opportunity, I took it. A  good book on the history of England's Sea Empire in the Tudor world took care of the next 40 or so minutes somewhere in there ...

Warm bread. There is nothing else quite like it in the world. I was shocked by how well it turned out :) After letting it cool for a few minutes, I cut it and put it in a ziploc bag ... then walked back down to the Campus Center to pass around delicious, soft, warm raisin bread to my friends as we played games on our Sunday night fun night. Win!!! :-)

p.s. word of the day is window. that's all.

The Return of the - Bean?

Dilemma: The time is now 18:30, and I return to Lambein from my job, quite ready for dinner.

 Abstract: Looking through my refrigerator, I find the only real leftover ... one that has been around for some time now. Yes, it is that dish of green beans, the one I wanted to do something about in the first post. My creative juices have subconsciously been stewing and simmering, and at last I am ready for action. The first step towards this wonderful dinner was taken last Saturday, when I was at the store with my Aunt and spotted a can of French onions. (Needless to say, they immediately went into my shopping basket.) Having cans of cream of mushroom soup in my closet, beans and milk in my refrigerator, pepper on my desk and onions in hand, I was ready.

 Battle plan: The major difficulty, as has been the case from the beginning, is that 45 minutes or even a skimpy half-hour is simply more time than I have available to cook something - especially a dish of beans, no matter that it is one of my favorite foods. Pondering the choices, I decide that cooking everything in my frying pan is my best option at this point; if it doesn't work out, then I will have added to my arsenal of knowledge. Piling everything into my pan, I head off to the kitchen. In my other hand I hold a little stack of dishes that have accumulated over the last few days (...where food abounded, dishes do much more abound...). I cover the bottom of the skillet with milk (I'm sure I'm not doing a full recipe, so it's pointless to measure since I don't know what proportions I would need) and turn it on to medium heat. [This electric stove stuff is going places; I haven't yet set off the fire alarm, and have thus far sounded retreat before burning anything.] Next steps are logical: open the can of cream of mushroom soup and pour it in the pan, pour the beans into the pan, stir, add some pepper, stir ... hopefully everyone can follow that. While the mixture is simmering, I wash the dishes that have had it coming to them for awhile now. They submit to the force of my will and are won over to the clean side by the time my beans have become warm and bubbly. I rinse and dry a couple of the bowls and pour the beans in, sprinkling French onions on top and letting it cool slightly while rinsing the rest of the dishes and putting them out to dry.

 Result: I eat dinner while learning how to use bloggers new format

 Reflections: Sometime I would like to try dicing up onions and sautéing them - I think it would add more flavor. Also, eating with crackers might be a good serving suggestion.

 Drawbacks: I discovered my almost complete lack of self-control when it comes to having a can of French onions that I don't have to share with anyone else ... I think I might need to go to confession now ...

Positives: 11 minutes after beginning, I have two nice bowlfuls of one of my favorite foods ever, and my dishes are done.

 Net Disaster = Zero

Chicks 'n' Chips ... and Sandwiches

Dilemma:

After a morning of shopping with my aunt, I return to Lambein loaded down with bags of food at around 11:15 and in serious need of a meal.

Abstract:

Lunch is in order, since my breakfast consisted of a handful of yogurt-covered raisins (net disaster in that case was also about zero - thirty seconds to open the package and grab them, a small amount of nutrition in return). Together with my roommate, I decide that lunch will be chicken nuggets and potato wedges.

Battle plan:

Searching through my sundry parcels and totes, I note with disfavor that my packing list apparently discriminated against paprika. Cumin and chili powder are drafted, and being duly enlisted into my frying pan, proceed to provide adequate reinforcement. A combination of flour, salt and pepper, Parmesan cheese, bread crumbs, milk, cumin, chili powder coat both the chicken nuggets and potato wedges, and the potatoes are put in the oven to bake. Operating under the conviction that the chicken will take significantly less time to cook, since it will meet its match in my frying pan, I begin peeling apples while waiting. The decision to make apple cobbler was, I believe, precipitated by a trip to a local Amish store yesterday at which I bought a large quantity of apples for a small quantity of money. Some of the apples still had leaves on them, which I also take as indication that they did, in fact, come from trees (and not the dubious origins of a questionable grocery store produce section). Apples peeled, cored and sliced (in that order), I put the bowl on a shelf and begin frying the chicken nuggets in olive oil.

Result:

Chicken, potatoes, and (baking while we wash up the dishes afterwards) apple cobbler - a tasty meal even by homecooked standards, and out of this world for college students.

Reflections:

The chicken turned out remarkably well, and finished at roughly the same time as the potatoes - strategic win. This notable occurrence happened around 14:00 - nearly THREE HOURS after I came home and decided to cook. That was a decisive loss. They tasted good - all's well. The finished product fed me and my roommate - if you ask me, that's a lot of work for two plates of food. On the one hand, it was my lunch, and I did get to eat. On the other hand, my plan had been to do homework for most of today, and three hours was a chunk of time I could ill-afford.

Drawbacks:

Very large chunk of time, not much food resulting, very hungry by the time it was done, lots of dishes, did I mention it took a terribly long time?

Positives:

Delicious food ... um ... it smelled good? And did I mention it was tasty?

Net Disaster - immense! Failure! I was in eminent danger of getting sent home in disgrace from the battlefield!

However ...

This evening, I was feeling hungry (about the time I sat down to blog about food and cooking and eating in general). So, I made a sandwich and ate it. It took roughly 45 seconds to make, I tainted but one knife in the process, and it was good. So, my day? One somewhat-gourmet, delicious, time consuming, and labor-intensive meal, paired against a quick, convenient, tasty and simple snack.

Today?

Net disaster = Zero

Alfredo Noodles

Dilemma:

The time is now 21:30 on Friday night, and I am leaving the SGA office, having yet to have dinner.

Abstract:

I wander to my room, feeling the pangs of hunger and the happy knowledge that my government duties are completed for the evening. Once in my room, I look around, wondering what to eat. Soup? Had it earlier. My refrigerator is nearly empty, save those troublesome beans (creativity has yet to strike ...) and some eggs. Well, I just had egg sandwiches. Delicious. But - I just had them. Then, I remember a gift - from Heaven, as it were. Noodles. Ahhhhhhh ........

Battle plan:

I grab my cooking pot, [indispensable] wooden spoon, noodles, salt and pepper, scrubbie sponge, and bowl. Pouring water and milk into my cooking pot, I add butter - that way I don't have to take all the ingredients to the kitchen with me. I coerce my roommate to keep me company, and head off down the hallway. Within minutes the milk comes to a boil, and I pour the alfredo noodles in, stirring frequently.

Result:

Ten minutes later, I have a bowlful of noodles, my pan and spoon are washed clean, and I retreat to my room to blog and eat warm food.

Reflections:

Win.

Drawbacks:

Thirty seconds worth of dishes, 10 minutes, late late dinner

Positives:

Warm food, pasta, hanging out with my roommate, did I mention food?

Net disaster = Zero

Scalloped Corn

Ah yes - the inevitable question: when one is cooking only for oneself, one tends to make very small quantities of food. However, one can scarcely ever make exactly the correct amount of food, and leftovers appear.

Dilemma: lunch needed

Available: leftovers and half an hour

Solution: Scalloped Corn

Abstract:

First, I called my sister. That is a good first step - thinking out loud, creative inspiration, the whole 27 feet - at my fingertips. I opened my small refrigerator to see what was available, knowing that a weekend of having time to cook meals meant the beginning of a week where I would not have to cook so much - but would have to get creative with leftovers. I had a dish of french cut beans left from a spaghetti dinner Saturday, along with half a cup of spaghetti noodles from that same encounter (somehow, between the 5 of us we hadn't managed to each take an extra bite ...?). Eyeing the beans, I thought of the cans of cream of mushroom soup sitting in my closet, and thoughts of green bean casserole tantalized me. However, a check in my cookbook was crushing confirmation that I did, indeed, need French onions, and that it would have to bake for 45 minutes, and that I would need a pan of a size I don't have ... simply put, the creative idea of deliciousness was completely out of reach.

So, I pushed the beans away, and looked more. Chicken soup and corn ... the idea of a vegetable in a sandwich-ruled diet was appealing, and considering the recent disappointment of the beans, I looked up corn in my cookbook - almost on a whim.

On page 581, I struck gold: Scalloped Corn. Marked as a favorite, it had the following drawbacks listed at the very top:

-Prep: 20 minutes
-Bake: 35 minutes
-Stand: 15 minutes
-Makes: 8 servings

None of these were viable options, and I nearly turned the page in despair ... but I scanned the list of ingredients anyway. Onion, green pepper, butter, corn, salt, egg, milk, cheese, and crackers.

Bang.

Half an onion left over from making spaghetti sauce Saturday? Check. Green pepper? In my ice-cube-sized freezer. Butter? Yes. Corn? The necessary leftover. Salt, egg, milk ... of course. Cheese? Still some left, usually used for sandwiches. Crackers? Ooh, crazy coincidence - feeling sick one of my last days at work and getting some unsalted saltines (go figure that one out ...); still unopened. Better yet, glancing at my desk I see two biscuits, remnants of the clan that emerged when I made chicken noodle soup earlier in the week. By now, they are hard as sandstone; a good substitute for crackers, and only edible under constrained circumstances. But if they were crumbled into something ...

Houston, we have a solution.

Battle plan:

Grabbing my skillet, I scan the recipe and decide that if this is kind of cooked up in a skillet, it should be a matter of minutes instead of baking in a pan for 45-odd minutes. Timing is a crucial facet to having a workable solution. Piling in the ingredients, I toss the noodles on top - at what other time will I eat half a cup of noodles? I grab a bowl and fork, wooden stirring spoon (one of my favorite, all-purpose utensils), hot pad, dish towel, and head off down the hallway. My sister, I hope, is entertained by my stream-of-consciousness rundown of my adventure.

I turn the electric stove burner on - still getting used to a flame that can't be turned off immediately. The big danger is the super-sensitive fire alarms of Lambein, my dorm. Smoke is a big no-no; even steam will sometimes set them off. Excesses even of wonderful smells like frying bacon or garlic must be treated with caution. Using the fork to scrape a little butter into the frying pan, I chop up some of the onion and green pepper, and toss it into the pan. Using the wooden spoon to stir it, I am faced with the necessity of draining the water off the corn.

It was at this point I realized a flaw in my plan: I had no colander. It was roughly about approximately that time I also realized that the dish in which my corn resided had a lid with holes in it. As an experiment, I turned the dish upside down. Voila - the water drained out the holes, and the corn stayed in the dish. I am now saving that dish for that express purpose.

Crumbling everything into the skillet (in considerably smaller proportions than those given in the recipe), I stirred it together. Simultaneously, I scraped a bit of butter onto the noodles, poured some milk on top, and heated them.

Result:

The egg cooked within minutes, and there were no other ingredients I was worried about being safe/cooking. When it set up a little, I scraped it into my bowl, put a little slice of cheese on top, and ate my noodles while waiting for the cheese to melt a bit on top. Having finished the noodles, I put down that bowl and turned to the concoction reposing on the counter. Cautiously, I took a small bite.

Wow. It was actually good. Way better than I had expected, actually. I had been thinking of eating leftovers, but this was something I would actually make again. Delicious.

Reflections: Chop up the green pepper more. And don't put so much milk on the noodles; the butter would have sufficed. Other than that - yay and yum.

Drawbacks:

Dishes - skillet, wooden spoon, two dishes, bowl, fork, sharp knife. Time - 14 minutes.

Positives:

Lunch, talking with my sister

Net Disaster = Zero

Evening the Equation

Well, I'm a college student. I cook my own food. And sometimes, that seems like an awful lot of work for the few mouthfuls of food I will consume in a matter of minutes. Worse still is the mountain of dishes so easily accumulated in the making of such food. So, this blog is a) my comic relief from everyday life, and b) examples for anyone else in a similar situation - cooking food with limited resources, selective varieties of food, insufficient funding, small kitchens, non-enjoyment of dishes by the tub, etc. Enjoy!