Tag: noodle

We were having a birthday celebration at our house this week and it called for lasagna. I however didn't get to go shopping until just before dinner. So, when I saw no-boil needed lasagna noodles I was interested.

I did hesitate in purchasing them at first because the idea of not boiling the noodles before baking is just odd. But, I needed a recipe in addition to noodles and these noodles had the best back of the box recipe. So I decided to go for it.

It was really neat to not have to prepare the noodles. You just throw down the sauce, add on a few noodles, spread out some ricotta cheese mixture, sprinkle on cheese and repeat. Then you throw it all in the oven and out comes a really yummy lasagna.

The only tip I would give is make extra sure that you cover each noodle completely to the edge with ricotta and sauce because if you miss any of the noodle it does come out crunchy in that area. Otherwise, it is a remarkably good noodle.

I don't know why nobody ever told me that Alfredo sauce was easy to make, but I've wasted far too much of my life buying the glass jars of commercially made pasta sauce when a great alfredo is almost as easy.

Just last week, we were running a little short in the food department, so it came time to try and scrounge what we could out of what was sitting around in the house. To that end, I collected the following ingredients:

• 2 cans evaporated milk (heavy cream would be better...)
• 1/8 lb. Parmigiano-Reggiano, shredded
• Lots of black pepper
• 1 stick butter
• Garlic salt
• 1 bag egg noodles

I melted the butter while the pasta started boiling. Once completely melted, I added the milk and whisked it all together, then whisked in the pepper and garlic salt. After the egg noodles were done, I drained them thoroughly, put them in the milk mixture, and began to fold in the cheese.

That's it. The best recipes are disgustingly simple. Although, after I ate the noodles, I felt like my heart was going to explode. This is some heavy stuff, friends. Don't get addicted.

I was seriously in need of some sour cream yesterday, so I browsed the internet for a couple beef stroganoff recipes and generated something that turned out to be pretty darn fantastic.

After slicing a half-pound sirloin steak into small strips, I dredged them in flour, garlic salt, and pepper, then sauteed them in butter along with a quarter onion (diced). I added a couple dashes of Worcestershire and soy sauce (that combo is my secret weapon for meat dishes). After the onion was transparent, I added some sliced mushrooms, a shot of apple cognac (any brandy would be fine), and half a can of chicken broth. Once the whole mixture thickened, I added half a cup of sour cream, reduced the heat to medium, and let the sauce thicken.

Over buttered egg noodles, this one was pretty fantastic. There was just a hint of the apple flavor from the cognac. If I do this again, I will wait to add the steak until after the onions are done; it certainly wasn't overcooked, but I would have liked it to be a little less cooked anyways.

This weekend, I once again proffered my fantastic cookery in two dishes- one sublime, one subpar. Not to say the subpar one didn't come out alright...

The night before grocery day is always a bit of a scrounge for miscible ingredients, since there's not much to plan a main course around. While the Tart was telling me the same three ingredients she'd been mentioning every night for a week - eggs, bacon, and potatoes - I used my fantastic powers of looking at things and discovered a bag of thin egg noodles.

Since we stock about twenty billion cans of broth just in case we need one, I salvaged two cans of chicken stock and set both of these out. Now, I needed something interesting, something that would keep this from turning into a generic chicken noodle soup.

After poking around in the fridge, I found a third of a ham steak in a tupperware container. Now, I remembered this ham steak. Sort of. Kind of. You see, we'd had it for quite a while. I might have named it had I remembered it existed.

I lifted the lid and sniffed. Okay, this smells bad. Or does it? I remembered something I heard a teacher say in high school- if you accidentally switch sodas with someone else, the first sip always tastes like the soda you were expecting. Human suggestibility is prominent in our sensory awareness, being the point. So I sniffed again and convinced myself that what I felt was the florid odor of decay was, in fact, just the inscrutable hamminess of... well, ham.

I mean, back during the Great Depression they threw rashers of bacon out in the streets, right? Bacon lasts forever by dint of its high salt and low moisture content. Isn't ham cured pretty much the same way? Waste not, want not. With all those things I convinced myself to cook.

So, I diced the ham steak and fried it with some butter in a large skillet, then added the broth and noodles. Nice and simple. Nobody would suspect that this was Hindenberg ham. Would they?

Figuring that if we were all going to die from some ungodly taint, I'd rather be hung as a sheep than as a lamb, I made sure to add extra chunks to my serving. I couldn't get the thought that I was serving this to small children out of my head.

You know what? It turned out pretty good. I didn't get sick. The ham was kind of tangy though. Nah. It's all in my head.

Where have I been indeed? I've been out, seeing the world and eating food. Actually I haven't, I've been frequenting many adult cake shops looking for the one of Al Roker with Hershey Kiss nipples. Ok, that's a lie too. Honestly? I had food writers block. What? that is so a condition :P. For some reason, I just couldn't compile a coherent string of thoughts on the subject of easy chicken stir fry. I don't think I'm still there yet, but with everyone attacking my credibility with tales of pornographic baked goods, I have to write something. And we're off.

Stir Fry!

For Asian night that occurred centuries ago, I made chicken stir fry. The recipe came from here. The biggest ordeal I had to go through was finding the Stir Fry mixed vegetables. There are close to no stores in the greater Las Vegas area that carry frozen water chestnuts, red bell pepper, and whatever those other two things are in the same bag. Except Walmart. Next time I am most certainly going to just buy those things and cut them myself. It probably would turn out better. For a bit of insanity, I soaked some Soba noodles in water while I was frying and threw them in. Unfortunately, they came out a bit clumpy and didnt really lend itself at all to the stir fry. The sauce itself was great though and I will definitely keep that morsel stashed away for my next Iron chef appearance. Or asian night. Whatever.

There! it has been posted! you've read it! you can't un-read it!

Pasta, in general, can be found in decent quantity for tremendously cheap prices; exactly what you'd expect for something that is essentially one step removed from bread. I suppose the original idea was to combine angel hair with Immensely Chunky Mushroom pre-made sauce; however, using my plus three diplomatic skills, I was able to make an argument against it (angel hair has a pretty delicate texture. Why destroy it with a thick sauce?)

My approach was simple. After cooking to desired tenderness (at least removing all traces of al dente), I added some butter, milk, pepper, and garlic. Exact quantities? About half a stick of butter and a quarter cup of milk to half a package of pasta. I'm a bit overboard on things like garlic, pepper, and garlic pepper, so feel free to experiment. After draining and adding these ingredients, I put it back over medium heat and moved it. Like a washing machine. Those noodles weren't going to scorch on my watch. When the butter had disappeared, I proclaimed it done. Loudly.

The sauce was perfectly thin and absolutely divine. My only regret was that I only had half a stick of butter; if I could double the quantity of butter and milk I might have generated a bit more sauce. As it was, it was just perfect enough. That's what you get for spending time around italian friends.

I abhor recipes; they teach you to follow rote instructions and not to experiment. Here, however, is something Tele-approved and much more flexible. Allow me to present the UNRecipe (thanks, minipulator) for what I generated:

• X packages angel hair pasta
• X sticks butter
• X/2 cups milk
• Spice Combo In my case, garlic and pepper. Try basil/thyme (tiny amounts), white wine/bouillon powder, or garlic with 2X tablespoons of olive oil replacing X/2 sticks butter.

Mix over medium heat until awesome. Serves {2,4}X.

Burgundy makes you think of silly things; Bordeaux makes you talk about them, and Champagne makes you do them. - Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

Born in the region of France from whence it gets its name, the Pinot Noir wine known as Burgundy is a rich cooking experience. Perfect as a sauce base for dishes of beef, chicken, or pork, it is a principal ingredient in preparations of escargot and coq au vin. Despite its international heritage, however, a cheap Burgundy can still make an excellent aromatic and flavor addition to a stock-based dish. Broth Reductions

One of the simplest ways to use Burgundy is as a reduction with broth. After flouring and browning the meat of choice, you can add a quart of broth and about 2/3 bottle of wine, along with your herbs for seasoning (bay leaves, in particular, seem to sing in these preparations). Be prepared for at least half an hour (preferably more) of occasional stirring over medium heat; your patience will be rewarded when the liquid reduces to about 1/2 to 1/3rd its original volume and becomes reddish-brown and thick (think beef bourguignon).

Almost any traditional stew ingredient can be incorporated into this dish. For a more gourmet dish, sauteed mushrooms and pearl onions can be added; chives, oregano, garlic, basil, sage, and/or pepper in different combinations are great. (Since I’m a spicy food lover, I also add in about half a teaspoon of cayenne and go rather heavy on the black pepper). Served over noodles (slightly al dente, buttered, peppered, and lightly seasoned with basil), you’ll turn burgundy into a regular part of your pantry.