4 posts tagged “cheese”

A week ago Friday, I came home from work and surveyed the items in the refrigerator for possibilities. I had a few ounces of leftover chicken, a couple of slices of ham, assorted odd and ends of cheese, some sausages in the freezer... you get the idea. It was time for another Main-Dish Pie.

This is largely based on a recipe in Nigella Lawson's "How To Be A Domestic Goddess" cookbook, where it appears as Pizza Rustica, an Italian meat-and-cheese pie. I used the same general construction (substituting the cream cheese pastry this time) but chucked whatever I had around into the filling. All the above-mentioned meats, a bunch of cheese, chopped sauteed onion, seasonings, and parsley were combined two beaten eggs and plopped into the crust. I used a springform pan to construct and bake the pie. It's a good idea to put a baking sheet underneath whilst baking a savory pie, as they tend to ooze a little bit of fat.

Meat and cheese pie

This one was baked for ten minutes at 400 degrees then another 45 minutes at 350 degrees. These pictures were taken several days later, before the last of the cold leftover pie was consumed.

Meat and cheese pie, close-up

Last Sunday evening I went into the living room to stare at the pile of papers, magazines, and projects that form strata on my husband's coffee table (yes, we each have our own; it's highly necessary to my sanity). Our new housecleaner was going to be starting the next day and I wanted to pick up as much clutter as possible in order to give her room to work. I took a step closer, and felt my sandaled foot come down on something soft. And furry. And squeaking.

A mouse, of course. It zoomed away and disappeared in the dim room before I could get a good look. I yelped, swore loudly, and sat down on the couch, feeling my heart pound loudly in a salsa beat. I'm not scared of mice, or phobic about them, but it just wasn't what I expected. Dried cat barf, yes. The occasional hard feline dingle-berry, yes. But not live creatures, except for the four felines themselves.

And where were they, anyway? Not a cat in sight. When I recovered, I opened the front door and found three of the four cats on the front porch, just lazing about. I hauled their sorry asses instead and told them to FIND THE RODENT!! They wandered around for a bit, looking puzzled. Then they settled down for Nap #17 of the day.

I was up quite early the next morning; a combination of being awakened by the hospital at 0530 with a phone call and knowing that The Cleaner was coming. After a bath, I headed out to the living room, still thinking about The Rodent. Sure enough, the little beast was back, crouching on the floor in plain sight. I couldn't really tell what kind of shape it was in; it didn't look dead, but then it didn't look precisely well either. Not being certain that I could catch it if it were relatively intact, I went (quietly) to fetch a cat.

Nellie, our oldest cat, gets a private room at night; she sleeps in the office. It's partly due to her prickly temperament (only Horatio is allowed to get chummy with her, and she clearly treats him as a Lower Life Form who is nonetheless useful for washing her face) and partly due to her special medical needs. She's hyperthryroid, and has to take medications twice a day, and I try to keep an eye on her input and output. Since I need to be able to find her every morning and every evening, it's just easier to lock her up at night. In the morning she shoots out of the little room (after her pill) like a tabby-colored ballistic missile. Therefore, I knew that there was one cat I could snag instantly and turn into a Rodent Hunting Machine.

I scooped her up just as she was about to slip past the opened office door and plopped her in front of the mouse and she had it clamped in her jaws before I could blink. Not back for a 13 year old cat with medical issues who weighs less than most newborn humans. The mouse just hung there, looking dead; Nellie immediately ran under the chairs, growling, in full Kombat Kitty mode. Eventually I recaptured her, still with limp mouse body dangling from her mouth, and returned her to the office and shut her in.

I returned with some cheese (which I usually wrap 'round her pills to get her to take them) and proposed a trade. She dropped the mouse into her food dish and snatched up the cheese. I grabbed the mouse by the tail; it immediately returned to life, tiny limbs scrabbling frantically. How do they know to play dead with a cat but to change tactics for a human? I didn't drop it, though I was startled, and managed to take it outside and chuck it into the shrubs.

When I returned, Nellie was staring intently at her food dish, waiting for the mouse to return. She was still there when I left about an hour later. Even later that evening, she was still giving the food dish some odd, speculative looks. It's nice to see that an old cat can still move that fast AND be that optimistic.

The more time I spend cooking, the less time I have to write. That's life. I've been cooking a lot this week; some successes, some flops. The weather has cooled off and I was finally able to face the ham I've been hanging on to for a while, so I popped it into the slow-cooker on Tuesday morning (this was a boneless, fully cooked half ham, Maple River Brand) with a cup of white wine, a dollop of Dijon mustard, and a peeled sliced apple, then turned it on "low". I mostly ignored it the rest of the day, although I turned it a couple of times.

When we were almost ready to eat, I took out the ham and placed in on a platter and covered it with foil and then a dishtowel for insulation. I removed and discarded the apple bits from the slow-cooker, and poured the remaining liquid into a small saucepan. Then I made the following sauce:

Dijon-Gruyere Sauce for Ham or Chicken

Pan drippings from roasting or braising (in this case, the winey hammy liquid from the slow-cooker)
1 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
Salt and pepper
1/4 pound Gruyere cheese, shredded

Boil drippings or pan juices down rapidly until you have about 1/3 cup. Add cream and mustard; use whisk to combine. Simmer over medium heat until it begins to thicken a little. Reduce heat to lowest setting; gradually whisk in the shredded cheese. Serve hot with the ham or chicken.

I originally found this in a Sunset book, "Country French Cooking". It was served over a roasted chicken that had been quartered, sprinkled with more Gruyere, then put under the broiler for a minute or so. We had a housemate (John) at the time who loved this dish. Years later I dug up the recipe for him so he could cook it for the young woman he was dating. He cooked it, she loved it, and they have been married now for about five years.

I had always only used the sauce on chicken, but it occurred to me this week that the flavors were perfect for ham as well. The sauce is also delicious over rice or potatoes or bread. I do have some leftover, and I plan to use some of it in the egg batter for Monte Cristo Sandwiches in a few days. We'll see how that comes out.

A number of years back, when I was living in Portland, the Oregonian's A&E section did a great article about the kinds of foods that people eat when they are by themselves. These were the meals or snacks that we concoct from the remnants in the fridge or cupboard, the things that we snarf while leaning over the sink, the guilty pleasures of the kitchen. I still remember a few of them: "Sloppy Joses" (ground beef with taco seasoning, rolled up in tortillas with sliced processed cheese); bread or burger buns with all of the possible condiments for a burger, but no actual burger; and the many variations of dinner based on ramen noodles.

Ramen noodles entered my life when I was about eight or nine... old enough to follow the package directions and cook them, in a saucepan on the stove. I adored them... salty, chewy, carb-laden strings of heavenly goodness. They were cheap then, and they're even cheaper now. Who can resist a food that usually sells eight for a dollar? What else can you buy that cheaply? A can of Coke will cost you a dollar or more from a vending machine now, but for twelve and a half cents you can have a bowl of real food.

I can afford good food, now. Don't get me wrong. I buy wild salmon and organic produce and the best olives I can find. I buy microbrews (oddly, I still tend to buy cheap wines... the wine market is still saturated with vin ordinaire, and I like it just fine). I buy free-range or farm raised meat when I can get it. But once in a while, I buy the ramen too.

Tonight was a case in point. I'm home alone; my husband went off on a overnight trial-run camping trip on his recumbent trike. We were out of leftovers, and I plan to cook something large and lavish tomorrow. So... the ramen called to me. This is what I made:

Broccoli Cheese Noodles

1 package "creamy chicken" flavor ramen
About 1 cup chopped cooked broccoli, fresh or frozen (thawed in microwave if frozen)
1/4 cup milk
2 tablespoons butter
1-2 tablespoons cream
1-2 oz cheddar cheese, sliced or shredded

Cook the noodles in boiling water. You know how to do this; every child in this country knows how. Chuck the broccoli in during the last 30 seconds. Drain. Add the butter and milk and the flavor packet and stir. Sprinkle the cheese on top; cover and let sit for about 5 minutes. Stir again, add the cream. Stir once more and serve. Eat by yourself, with a good book and a glass of cheap red wine. Sigh a few times because you are alone, then tell yourself you're a damn good cook and everyone else is missing out.