Batter-Splattered

thrift store scores

Recent thrift store purchases...

A terra cotta pot shaped like a big fat chicken.

I filled it with dill and put it on the backporch.

I got four dining room chairs awhile back for $7 each.

The finish on them was not good but I figured, what the heck -- if I get tired of them or if I find something I like better, I can send them back to the thrift store. But then the husband latched onto them immediately -- he'd just got done telling me how he liked dining room chairs with a very high back on them and what do you know, these fit that bill. He spent many, many days stripping and sanding and staining... he took it very. Very. Seriously. Which means I'm glad I like how they turned out because I don't think I'm allowed to re-thrift them anytime soon.

And then I got these nice and heavy, long and rectangular tart pans, made in France:

Three of them. I was thinking that not only would they make very pretty tarts, they'd also look good hanging decoratively on that slim bit of wall between my kitchen counter and the bottom edge of the kitchen cabinets.

Bok choy slaw

What can I say, we love our leafy greens around here. At least, the dog and I do. I can't speak for the husband. I think you'll agree with me that it's pretty bad when your dog's more civilized than your husband. Sadie loves to dig into the tall green grass that grows on the edge of our -- ahem -- lawn (we like the natural look):

She loves that grass.

No.

Wait a minute.

Love's not a strong enough word.

She LUSTS after that grass would be more accurate:

As for me, I've been lusting after this recipe for bok choy slaw. I found a big and beautiful bunch of bok choy at the store the other day. I wasn't really planning to buy bok choy but when you see a score like that, you've just gotta pounce on it. You can always trust Real Age for a good and healthy recipe, especially when you have some healthy little something or other like salmon and want to dress it up fancy without totally ruining it's healthy-schmealthy-ness.

Most recipes want you to stir-fry bok choy but I was after something much more fresh and crispy -- something to go along with grilled chops so I wouldn't have to light the stove in the kitchen. I found what I was looking for. It's like summer in a bowl.

 

You whisk together some toasted sesame oil, rice vinegar, and dijon mustard and toss it with thinly sliced bok choy, carrots and green onions. It was wonderful.

Although.

Did I mention it was a big bunch of bok choy?

Well, it was really big. As in, eating slaw for four days straight. The first three office lunches of slaw were wonderful but I must say, I was suffering from a bit of bok choy burn out by the fourth day.

I'd say that's pretty good though, if you can eat something for three days straight without a whimper.

To keep it nice and crispy, I didn't stir the dressing in with the slaw. I saved it in a separate container and added it to each individual bowl.

Bok Choy Slaw

• 1/4 cup rice vinegar
• 1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
• 2 teaspoons sugar
• 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 6 cups very thinly sliced bok choy, (about a 1-pound head, trimmed)
• 2 medium carrots, shredded
• 2 scallions, thinly sliced

Whisk vinegar, oil, sugar, mustard and salt in a large bowl until the sugar dissolves. Add bok choy, carrots and scallions; toss to coat with the dressing.

finally! some strawberry ice cream

I had to wait for it, but I finally got that strawberry ice cream I was yearning for.

I fixed it up in the form of ice cream sandwiches, made with these lovely little triple (triple!) chocolate cookies.

Oh my goodness, were these ever good.

I bought some ice cream rather than making it, as the recipe directed. I just can't make the leap into ice-cream-making. Like I don't have enough junk in my kitchen -- I'm supposed to store an ice cream maker, too? Plus, we had an ice cream maker when I was a kid. I remember there was lots of cranking involved.

Cranking, when I would have rather been sliding and swinging at the picnic in the park.

I have issues with home ice cream makers.

I'm sure they've advanced by leaps and bounds and all but...back to the cookies.

Those are some good cookies. But next time I make them (and I will), I'm going to make them much smaller than the recipe suggests. They were so rich and chocolate-y I had a hard time making it through one. And ordinarily, I'm one who scoffs at other people who set down their spoon and protest that something's too rich. Hand it over, then. I'll finish it off.

Thank goodness I bought no-sugar-added strawberry ice cream. It was just the thing to fend off the richness. Although I still couldn't polish off a whole ice cream sandwich. I had to put the last few bites back in the freezer for later.

So. Next time. Smaller cookies. If you can handle the richness, you can eat more than one.

Triple Chocolate Cookies (for ice cream sandwiches or for the hell of it, you decide)

Makes about 16

10 ounces bittersweet (not unsweetened) or semisweet chocolate, chopped
1/2 cup plus 2 teaspoons all purpose flour
3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
3 large eggs
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
6 ounces (1 cup) semisweet chocolate chips

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350°F. Line 2 large rimmed baking sheets with parchment paper. Stir chopped chocolate in top of double boiler set over simmering water until melted and smooth; remove from over water. Cool melted chocolate 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, sift flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, and salt into medium bowl. Using electric mixer, beat sugar and butter in another medium bowl until crumbly. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Continue to beat until mixture is light, pale, and creamy, about 5 minutes. Add lukewarm melted chocolate and vanilla and beat just until blended. Fold in dry ingredients, then chocolate chips.

Drop chocolate cookie batter by 1/4 cupfuls onto prepared baking sheets, spacing 2 inches apart. Bake cookies, 1 baking sheet at a time, until tops are evenly cracked but cookies are not yet firm to touch, about 16 minutes. Cool cookies completely on baking sheets. Using metal spatula, carefully transfer 4 cookies to each of 4 large resealable plastic bags, arranging in single layer. Freeze cookies overnight. (Can be made 3 days ahead. Keep frozen.)

Salmon Club Sandwich

Well, my husband has yet to catch a salmon this year in spite of three -- count them -- three overnight fishing expeditions down at the creek. The fish, they just aren't running yet, is what he tells me. Something about high and cloudy water.

He's pretty good with a rod and reel, so I suppose I'll believe him. Although. He doesn't particularly care for salmon and so he leans in the direction of catch-and-release. But. This year I mentioned that if he catches a ton of salmon, we could trade quite alot of it for the halibut that some friends catch by the boatful (literally) every summer in Homer. He perked up at that thought. Now, halibut he likes. I figured he was sure to bring home the salmon if it meant he could swap it for halibut.

But.

Nothing.

Luckily, his friend caught one though and he's plum out of freezer space, so my husband brought that massive king salmon home to store in our freezer and we got to keep some hunks of it.

And when I say 'hunks,' I mean hunks. I'm not kiddin' around. Well, see for yourself:

 

 I whacked that king into chunks and grilled 'em up. And then I used them for this recipe for a salmon club sandwich. That's grilled and toasty sourdough bread there on top.

This particular club sandwich recipe has you whip up a divine lemon basil mayonnaise with minced fresh basil, grated lemon peel and, of course, some mayo. And you can't forget about the bacon. I'll think you'll agree with me that anytime bacon is involved at the dinner table, you're talking party-time. And once you're done cooking the bacon till crispy, you lay those strips on a paper-towel-lined plate, then saute up some sliced red onion in the drippings.

It all comes together to be deliciously sinful. I had mine with a handful of salt and vinegar chips and an Alaskan IPA poured into a glass I specially put in the freezer for an hour or two to get it all nice and frosty..

The original recipe, as provided below, calls for slices of tomato but I didn't include those on my sandwich. For me, salmon and tomato just don't mix. I also don't think halibut and tomatoes go together all that well.

I know, I know. It's a bold statement considering the wealth of halibut-tomato recipes out there, but I'm standing by my aversion.

Just the thought of fish and tomatoes mixing it up together reminds me of being a kid and getting absolutely disgusted if a tiny bit of ketchup touched my baked potato or peas.

And I was in love with ketchup. Still am. In fact, back then, I would not only dip a french fry into a massive plop of ketchup, but I'd also get my fingers in there too so that as I ate the fry, I could lick the extra ketchup off my fingers. Oh dear. My dad thought I was disgusting. And he was right to think so.

But you feel free to go on ahead and slice you up some tomatoes and enjoy this recipe to the fullest.

To me, this tastes like summertime.

Salmon Club Sandwich

Serves four

6 tablespoons mayonnaise
5 tablespoons minced fresh basil
1 teaspoon grated lemon peel

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
4 5- to 6-ounce skinless salmon fillets (each about 3/4 inch thick)

8 bacon slices
1 small red onion, sliced

8 1/2-inch-thick sourdough or country-style white bread slices (each about 5x3 inches)
8 tomato slices
8 lettuce leaves

Mix mayonnaise, 2 tablespoons basil and lemon peel in small bowl to blend. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and chill.)

Mix remaining 3 tablespoons basil, olive oil and lemon juice in large glass baking dish. Add salmon to oil mixture; turn to coat. Cover; chill 1 to 4 hours.
Cook bacon in heavy large skillet over medium-high heat until crisp. Using tongs, transfer bacon to paper towels to drain. Add onion to drippings in skillet. Sauté until onion is tender and beginning to brown, about 5 minutes.

Prepare barbecue (medium-high heat). Grill fish until just opaque in center, about 3 minutes per side. Grill bread just until golden, about 2 minutes per side.
Spread mayonnaise mixture over 1 side of bread slices. Top each of 4 bread slices with 2 bacon slices, 2 tomato slices, 1/4 of onion, 1 salmon fillet and 2 lettuce leaves. Cover with remaining bread slices.

  

strawberry ice cream, a story.

I was waiting for my commuter van yesterday afternoon and wanted to sit in the sunshine on this one bench but whenever I sit on that bench, strange and desperate men shuffle up to me and try to strike up a conversation, even though I’m only waiting there for a few minutes each day before being whisked away by the van. Homeless men. Be-homed men. It doesn’t matter. The one thing they have in common is they’re all old enough to be either my father or my grandfather. I’m a magnet.

I can stand on the corner near the bench and no one bothers me. But I can’t stand on the opposite corner. For some reason, the bench and that other corner reel in shifty males who roam around hoping to find some young woman who can make them feel good about themselves. That’s not my job. I didn’t sign up for that. It makes me very angry to be subjected to their desperation. I get a little angrier every time I’m harassed. You’re sure to hear about me on the evening news one day when I snap.

So I thought about avoiding the bench but figured that’s no way to live. No sooner had I taken a seat when a homeless guy came shuffling along eating a little cup of quite delectable-looking strawberry ice cream.

I thought: He better just keep on shuffling.

And then I thought: I wonder where he got that ice cream. I wonder if I have time to go get some.

Homeless man: “Excuse me, ma’am?”

Me: Shit. What is it about this bench.

H.M.: “Can I ask you a question?”

Me: “No.”

H.M. stares at me in silence for several moments, spoonful of ice cream hovering mid-air, apparently shocked that I would sass him. I look to see if the van’s coming yet. It’s not.

H.M. “Can you help me out with $2”

Me: I hate men. Why I haven’t I become a lesbian yet? “Go away.”

H.M.: “It’s just $2.”

Me: That’s it. “Why would I give you money. You have ice cream. I don’t have ice cream.”

H.M. senses his opportunity and gets a look of glee on his face: “Oh! Gimme $2 and I’ll go get you some ice cream.”

Me: “Go away. NO. Go away now.”

macaroni with grilled chicken salad

Well. Really, it's penne with chicken salad but I heard through the grapevine that some guy is trying to revive the word 'macaroni' and I thought I'd try it on for size, and humor him all at the same time. He's also trying to revive the 'cents' key. As in:

¢

He dreams big.

My husband and I wolfed down a big bowl of this salad. Probably because it tastes like summer, what with the grilled chicken and all the fresh and crunchy vegetables -- red onion, celery, and a red bell pepper that cost me $3.50. I'm still not convinced it was worth it. Although it was a pretty nice looking and very tasty pepper. Firm skin, for once. Usually the ones we get here in Alaska have the wrinkly skin of an 80-year old, but only on one side. The other side is smooth as a baby's butt, as if someone smeared age renewal cream with alpha-hydroxy acid on one side but not the other as an experiment to see if that hope in a bottle is really working. Why experiment with your face. Grab a pepper.

I thought for sure the husband wouldn't like it because it tasted so fresh and healthy. His tongue and the rest of his body are, as near as I can tell, allergic to nutritious food. Except for the rare dish, nutrition revolts him. Even apples would be better wrapped in bacon, in his opinion. But wait a minute. That would be my opinion too.

But wonders never cease because he had two big bowls of this, probably because it  has lots of noodles -- his word for pasta.

Pasta.

Macaroni.

Noodles.

The choices are endless.

I doubled the dressing on my version because some of the people who reviewed the original said it was a little dressing-less. I don't like dry macaroni so I decided to err on the side of wetness and double up the dressing ingredients. My version:

Penne and Grilled Chicken Salad

Serves 8 to 10

2 whole skinless boneless chicken breasts, halved (about 1 1/2 pounds)
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 pound ziti or other tubular pasta
2 large red bell peppers, cut into 1/2-inch dice
2 1/2 cups thinly sliced celery
1 red onion, chopped (about 1 1/4 cups)
1 1/4 cups Kalamata or other brine-cured black olives, pitted and sliced thin
1/4 cup minced fresh dill
6 tablespoons white-wine vinegar
4 tablespoons mayonnaise
4 tablespoons Dijon-style mustard
1 1/3 cup olive oil

In an oiled ridged grill pan heated over moderately high heat or on a rack set 4 to 6 inches over glowing coals grill the chicken breasts for 8 to 10 minutes on each side, or until they are springy to the touch, and transfer them to a dish. Sprinkle the chicken with the lemon juice and let it cool. In a kettle of boiling salted water boil the ziti until it is tender. In a colander refresh the ziti under cold water and drain it well.

In a large bowl toss together the ziti, the bell peppers, the celery, the onion, the olives, and the dill. Remove the chicken from the dish, reserving the juices, slice it thin, and add it to the ziti salad. To the juices in the dish add the vinegar, the mayonnaise, the mustard, and salt and black pepper to taste, whisk the mixture well, and add the oil in a stream, whisking until the dressing is emulsified. Add the dressing to the salad, toss the salad well, and season it with salt and black pepper.