Knit Think

Friday food

You know why I like winter?

Comfort food.

When people ask "What's your favorite food?" I should just say, "Comfort." Anything in that category is a winner. And it's a flexible category--the things that are on my list are different from those on other people's list. It's a personal thing. (And for a good example of someone else's list, see here.) My list would include pasta, potatoes, soups, stews, and this winter wonder: chili.

Warning: pictorially, this will be a dull post. Because I'm talking about white chicken chili, which is, well, rather dull and colorless. Bear with me. The taste certainly isn't dull. Oh--and for those who frequently wonder about the state of my arteries? I use an online recipe but with some changes so it's healthier. Not healthy, but healthier.

I make a change right off the bat. The recipe calls for soaking beans overnight. I never remember to do that, and I usually pull this recipe out an hour before dinner, so I substitute 2-3 cans of white beans instead. I like beans.

While I'm not soaking the beans, I saute some onions and garlic (note: the recipe doesn't call for garlic, but good grief, if you're going to use onion, why would you not use garlic??). Then, in my nice big chili pot, I make a roux.

 

That's just melted butter with flour whisked in. To that I add the sauted onion and garlic.

 

Mmmm...all that buttery/oniony/garlicy goodness! Yes, you can use margarine or butter substitute instead. It'll be fine.

Once this is nicely blended, it's time to add some liquid. Here's where I make a startlingly healthy change to the recipe. The online version calls for 3/4 cup chicken broth and 2 cups half-and-half. Not necessary! I use 2 cups chicken broth, and the canned nonfat version is just fine, and I use 1/2-3/4 cup half-and-half, the fat-free version. Again, just fine.

 

Now that I have a base, I simmer it for a few minutes until it thickens. Then it's time to add some spices (and some much-needed color to this post):

 

The recipe calls for 1 teaspoon Tabasco, 1 1/2 teaspoons chili powder, 1 teaspoon ground cumin, and 1/2 teaspoon each of salt and ground white pepper. Those piddly amounts make me snort in derision. You can bet I easily double or triple those every time I make this, and trust me, it's never really spicy.

Finally, the heart of the dish:

 

Cooked chicken, two cans of diced green chilies, and Monterey Jack cheese. Remember: I said this dish could be made healthier. You can sacrifice fat and calories elsewhere, but you really need the cheese.

How you come up with the chicken is up to you. I poached some chicken breasts and diced them. You could broil them. You could buy the precooked chicken in the little, exorbitantly expensive package in your grocer's freezer section. You could use leftover deli chicken. Whatever. Dark meat would be fine too. I just happened to have a lot of chicken breasts after a stock-up trip to Costco.

Anyway, you stir all that stuff in and let it simmer gently for 20 minutes. Add 1/2 cup of sour cream (low-fat is fine), and--voila!

 

White chicken chili! It's so good, so comforting, tastes great out of the pot, leftover the next day, or it can be frozen and eaten later. A friend tells me she purees most of the beans so her kids won't pick them out. That's a sound strategy, but one I've been too lazy to try.

There'll be no Friday food next week, because--duh--we all know what we'll be eating. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Green peppers

We all know that green peppers are a very nutritious treat, right? But did you know they're also:

Yup. They're nifty, those green peppers. At least according to Kowalski's.

And I thought they just tasted good on pizza.

Friday food

Welcome to this week's edition of Baking for Dummies/Idiots/Lazyass Bums.

As I've mentioned before, I love eating baked goods--I just don't like to bake them. Don't know why--my parents are talented bakers, so clearly it's not environmental or genetic. Interestingly, Teen 1 has become quite a gifted cookie baker. He routinely whips up excellent cookies from scratch. Perhaps being deprived as a younger child has brought this out in him.

Anyway. Every once in a while I bow to the pressure to bake something. Whenever possible, I like to keep it simple. Such as this fall item: Pumpkin spice cake.

What you see in the photo above is the full list of ingredients. Forget that tedious measuring and leveling and sifting and stacks of little spice jars and eggs and messy oil bottles. This is baking for those who really don't like to bake.

Directions? Mix the box mix of spice cake together with the can of pumpkin. Pour into greased pan. Bake according to directions on the box mix.

That's it.

The ease of this cake even inspired me to get out the ol' Bundt pan and make it all fancypants.

Are there better pumpkin spice cakes out there? Of course. But when you don't care enough to bake the very best, trust me, this'll do. It disappears very quickly in my baked-goods-deprived household.

Huh

Looks like someone was way too lazy far too busy with Really Important Things to finish up the ol' fall cleaning.

Not that most of these plants were ever very alive. Gardening is really, really not my thing. And yet I try to do it each year anyway. That's what could be called optimism, or stupidity. Or both.

Friday food

But first: for those of you are local or semi-local, or you're not local but are just really bored or need to procrastinate, I now have a weekly column over at WCCO, covering interesting Minnesota things to do: Wander Minnesota.

OK then. Oh, wait. There's another "but first."

Here's the scene outside my window this beautiful (no, I'm not being sarcastic) morning:

I know there are those of you out there that are preparing for a big whinefest about this. "Wah, oh, wah, snow on Nov. 7, the world is ending, it's Obama's/McCain's fault, wah wah wah."

Oh, please. Suck it up, people. Let me just tell you a few things. I was raised up in rural northern Minnesota, where snow this early was common. Big snow. Lots of snow. And no, I did not wade through miles of waist-deep snow to get to my one-room school shack (well, K-12 was in one building, but there were multiple rooms). We did have buses. Buses without phones, and there were no cell phones, and the rural routes ran 60-90 minutes at the best of times and could go miles between houses. So there was an element of danger, you see. But because of that element of danger, the school district built snow days into the calendar, because sometimes it was simply too dangerous to risk having a busload of kids trapped on some of those roads. Sometimes it had nothing to do with snowfall, but everything to do with windchill of -50F or worse.

So! You see! I'm the hardy type who associates winter with that most wonderful of concepts--snow days. Is it any wonder the sight of snow gives me no end of cheer? My poor children, living in a well-prepared suburb that keeps roads clean and dry, and living in times where buses have phones and nearly every kid riding has a cell phone to boot, have only gotten to enjoy one "real" snow day in all their years of school (that's not counting the ones I gave them because I felt sorry for them--yeah, shhh, don't tell the schools, I might have called them in sick once or twice or four or five times for a really snowy day). There's no danger. No reason to cancel school.

So. Winter is not the enemy. Winter is our friend. OK, winter is *my* friend. I'll take ownership here.

Besides, winter and snow mean comfort food. And what's more comforting than something that starts with a crockpot and a big meaty ham bone?

Make sure it's a good ham bone. Lots of meat. Very smoky. Now let's add some chopped veggies.

The recipe calls for 1/2 cup each of chopped carrots, celery, and onion, but in my opinion, 1/2 cup amounts to why bother. I usually add one cup each or more.

Then it's time to get out the can opener.

Three different types of canned beans and one can of tomatoes. The recipe again is kind of bossy and says to drain and rinse the beans. I drain but don't rinse. I like that extra beany flavor. You just empty all these cans on top of that ham bone and exorbitant amount of chopped veggies.

Stir it all up. Then you either open another can, this time of chicken broth, or you pull your container of frozen homemade chicken broth out of the freezer, and pour it in.

Set your crockpot on low and cook for 8-10 hours, depending on how speedy your crock pot is. Eventually you take the ham bone out of the crockpot. The meat should just collapse right off the bone. Chop into bite-size pieces and put back in soup. Stir to combine. And serve.

Heaven in a bowl. Nothing fancy. Just really good. Bonus points if you have cornbread or a crusty baguette to serve with it. But it's OK if you don't. Oh, and the leftovers are even better.

Three-Bean Soup

1 ham bone

½ cup (if you’re a wimp, otherwise kick it up to 1 cup or more) each chopped celery, onion, and carrot

1 can each pinto beans, kidney beans (light or dark, doesn’t matter), and great Northern beans, drained and rinsed

1 can tomatoes

2 cups (or so) chicken broth

Place in crockpot. Stir to combine. Cook for 8-10 hours on low. Cut meat off ham bone and return to soup, stirring to combine. Serve.

Election Day, November, 1884

If I should need to name, O Western World, your powerfulest scene and
show,
'Twould not be you, Niagara--nor you, ye limitless prairies--nor
your huge rifts of canyons, Colorado,
Nor you, Yosemite--nor Yellowstone, with all its spasmic
geyser-loops ascending to the skies, appearing and disappearing,
Nor Oregon's white cones--nor Huron's belt of mighty lakes--nor
Mississippi's stream:
--This seething hemisphere's humanity, as now, I'd name--the still
small voice vibrating--America's choosing day,
(The heart of it not in the chosen--the act itself the main, the
quadrennial choosing,)
The stretch of North and South arous'd--sea-board and inland--
Texas to Maine--the Prairie States--Vermont, Virginia, California,
The final ballot-shower from East to West--the paradox and conflict,
The countless snow-flakes falling--(a swordless conflict,
Yet more than all Rome's wars of old, or modern Napoleon's:) the
peaceful choice of all,
Or good or ill humanity--welcoming the darker odds, the dross:
--Foams and ferments the wine? it serves to purify--while the heart
pants, life glows:
These stormy gusts and winds waft precious ships,
Swell'd Washington's, Jefferson's, Lincoln's sails.

--Walt Whitman

Yard signs

I already told you about the yard sign that I saw and loved. Now Chris has found another great one. Go check it out.

And while it might be overkill to mention this--because really, does anyone NOT know tomorrow is Election Day??--please, please, please, cast your vote tomorrow.