Cooking.

Nov. 25th, 2014 08:02 pm
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Dinner is Freezer Surprise.

This particular version of Freezer Surprise is quite easy to prepare.

Buy a lump of lamb or beef, place in freezer without a label, and allow to sit.

Really, you can allow it to sit for as long as you like - the main source of failure with this recipe is removal of ingredient from the freezer too soon.

Remove from the freezer when you have long forgotten what it is or where you bought it. For the expert touch, do so while feeling anxious about your spendthrift ways and therefore will feel compelled to consume every last scrap regardless of palatability.

Ideally by now the meat will have acquired a significant amount of freezer burn. Freezer burn changes colour, texture and sometimes even taste, thus ensuring that there's a continuing element of mystery as to the nature of the meat, with the added bonus that this inspires liberal application of garlic and olive oil in order to ensure palatability.

Place in moderate to hot oven and burn to a crisp.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
I have that sense of satisfaction one gets when all the groceries have been put away. Even the cheese is cut up and in its special box, and there is cut ginger in the freezer.

Pork roll for tea.

Garden.

Jan. 25th, 2014 06:53 pm
splodgenoodles: (Penelope intro)
It being silverbeet season, I'm definitely getting in the iron.

This is a great plant to have in the garden. It's pretty hardy, you can neglect it then revive it, and even keep it going for a couple of years. I once had a plant that went to seed and grew up to about a metre or so, then fell sideways and began sprouting perfectly acceptable leaves - in the manner of new, small individual plants - off the top side.

I really only need a few good plants, and I have a definite preference for the varieties with flatter leaves and more delicate, thinner stalks than the Fordhook Giant one always sees at the market. French Green is my favourite but failing that I quite like Rainbow Chard.

And it makes brain-free, low effort dinners so inadvertently healthy. You grab three or four good sized leaves (always pick from the outside), rinse and snip them up with kitchen scissors to avoid pulling out a chopping board, straight into a bowl with a little extra water and zap for a couple of minutes.
splodgenoodles: (Penelope intro)
1. Cutting down on the Lexapro (escitalopram). Saw my shrink today and mentioned anorgasmia. Not such a problem when you're single, more of a drag when you're not.

(Actually, it's still a nuisance when you're single, but spending an hour working on it, alone, is more of a problem when you want to spend that time with someone else, working on it together).

2. Down to 8mgs prednisolone this week but alas, stomach is playing up again. I initially thought it was a bug or dodgy food, but irregardless, I now appear to be flaring a bit. Salofalk will be employed first, then pred goes up if things don't improve.

3. In recent times I've noticed that I'm more embarrassed talking to health care providers about the ins and outs of bowel health than the ins and outs of sexual health. Funny that.

4. Reckon I'll need the next lot of antibiotics for bacterial sinus infection within the week. Oi vey.

5. Am about to do some more streamlining and thinking about food, go me. It's odd to be told, by a couple of different carers, that if nothing else I eat healthy. Of course, they don't see how much goes into the worm farm. OTOH, I assume it's because that while I might not eat all the fruit and veg that I buy, it's not like I'm purchasing soft drink, chips or confectionary. Presumably some of their other clients do. Most of my shortcuts are the healthier of the convenience options. However, I know I can improve it with a bit more forward planning and no loss to comfort.
splodgenoodles: (Penelope intro)
Tortilla wrap with guacamole, Vietnamese sweet pickled vegetables(includes garlic and chilli), and a few extra jalapeno chillis thrown in just because I can.

Probably a very good thing I'm here on my own.
splodgenoodles: (manamana)
As many of you will have observed, I maintain that when it comes to food I will try anything once. And this attitude has served me well over the years - there are many things I can now happily eat knowing that others are cringing, which gives me a pleasurable feeling of smug superiority. Even better, I actually enjoy many of those things that I will now eat, so often it's a double bonus.

Today, eating at a french creperie, it seemed only right to try the escargot.

Interestingly, the snails themselves itself are quite plain, the taste experience lies in the sauce. The texture is pleasant enough, not chewy or slimey as I had feared.

But alas, I was defeated. I'm afraid at long last I couldn't get over what I was eating, and couldn't finish the last couple of mouthfuls. Purely because they were snails. Those things I regularly and angrily squash when I find them in the spinach.

I once ate a fish eyeball just out of curiousity. (In case you are wondering, they're quite nasty. Don't bother. Not because it's an eyeball, but because the taste is non existent and the mouth-feel is distinctly unpleasant. Very tough and...round. Like eating a sphere of gristle. Or perhaps a small pretend onion, made out of gristle, because it seemed to have layers.) But that's the thing: the rest of the fish was fine. But I guess when you're eating a snail, it really does come down to how you feel about that animal overall, and overall, snails are kind of not food.

I have been defeated by the French! I feel somewhat ashamed.

My friend Ecks did suggest thinking of it as "gardener's revenge" but even that wasn't enough. In fact I think that made it worse.

Vegemite on toast for tea.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
I really need to try mimolette. According to the good folk of Les Vaches Du Tour:
Dutch style cheese, with a distinctively orange colour. It’s a huge cannonball of a cheese that could quite easily be used as a weapon. A delicious weapon. In her book 500 Cheeses, Roberta Muir notes that the aged version of the cheese is is one of only a few cheeses infested with cheese mites (not to be confused with cheesymite).

Melburnians can pick some up at either Bill’s Farm or The French Shop at the Queen Victoria Market (they gave me a taste of it the other day – run, don’t walk!), or Richmond Hill Cafe and Larder.

Anyone going past any of these places anytime soon?
splodgenoodles: (Penelope intro)
This afternoon I lay comfortably and safely on my left side. It felt fantastic. I've been sleeping reasonably well but only able to lie on my back or at best prop myself on pillows at an angle.

Tomorrow we're having a go at using the gutter frame to actually walk/shuffle, rather than just transfer to chair or commode.

Eventually kicked up a stink about food: I'd had one too many completely random food selections, nothing of what I've ordered. The person who delivers would look at the slip of paper with my name and my tray contents on it, and confirm that ths was me, then say, well what's written there is what you ordered. Um no. This happenned a couple of times until she then explained that she just delivers and what did I want her to do about it? Being clear about how I did not hold her responsible I said I believed there was a problem...gee maybe with the computer system or something...? and was there anyway to let someone know.

She said I should speak to my nurse who could contact the kitchen. The nurse explained that this part of the hospital is serviced last by the kitchen so we get the meal substitutions. I mentioned Crohn's Disease and by way of example explained that I kept getting brown bread rather than white bread(I sincerely doubt the kitchen run out of bread of any kind myself, I think they're just indifferent), and that I could not eat the weet-bix for breakfast either. She told me that breakfast is in fact prepared on the ward by the PCA, who I think was the same one who had denied all responsibility earlier.

On mention of Crohn's Disease she was more than happy to refer me to the dietician as the dietician does have some clout with the kitchen and might at least be able to ensure that they'll stop ignoring/substituting things randomly.

The dietician arrived yesterday and briefly explained the ongoign problem they have with the kitchen, which is that the kitchen always passes quality audits because the audits are known about in advance. Then it's business as usual.

But today she came back and did a proper assessment. Basically I'll be flagged as having special dietary needs that I can manage myself so long as the kitchen does actually send me what I request from their menu. I will also receive one yoghurt at dinner and one banana at lunch. (Both items are available, but apparently only on the say so of a dietician.)
splodgenoodles: (Default)
My attempts to lower my heart-attack inducing cholesterol levels are being thwarted by my recent discovery:

pizza can be quite nice actually.

So long as it's a half-and-half gourmet from a particular local place. Half pescatore (fancy seafood) and half mediterranean. And unlike pasta, it's still good eating the next day.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
My attempts to lower my heart-attack inducing cholesterol levels are being thwarted by my recent discovery:

pizza can be quite nice actually.

So long as it's a half-and-half gourmet from a particular local place. Half pescatore (fancy seafood) and half mediterranean. And unlike pasta, it's still good eating the next day.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
No photo today!

However, I'd just like to publicly thank [livejournal.com profile] 17catherines for recently advising me to marinade strawberries in a mix of equal parts sugar to red wine vinegar (or was it white...? I used red, anyway).

This was the perfect recipe for a gel who does not cook but does need to eat more fruit, because it's not really cooking at all. It's just sloshing things into a bowl and coming back an hour or so later to drain out the marinade and add ice cream, and it's not really fruit at all because it tastes nice.

Apparently it's even better with mascarpone cheese and those lattice biscuits. Hmm.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
No photo today!

However, I'd just like to publicly thank [livejournal.com profile] 17catherines for recently advising me to marinade strawberries in a mix of equal parts sugar to red wine vinegar (or was it white...? I used red, anyway).

This was the perfect recipe for a gel who does not cook but does need to eat more fruit, because it's not really cooking at all. It's just sloshing things into a bowl and coming back an hour or so later to drain out the marinade and add ice cream, and it's not really fruit at all because it tastes nice.

Apparently it's even better with mascarpone cheese and those lattice biscuits. Hmm.
splodgenoodles: (Lady Penelope's car.)
What's wrong with you?

Tea fudge.

Fudge with the good strong taste of an Irish or English Breakfast Tea. A real hit of tannin.

It'd be fabulous!

And no tea leaves to get stuck between your teeth from when you get to the bottom of the cup and start chewing because you haven't quite had enough of what you need.


Why do people gag whenever I talk about tea fudge and why it should exist?

It would be so handy when you were travelling and unsure of where your next cup of tea was coming from and anyone who's experienced me when I can't get my morning cuppa would surely see the sense in this. (Ask [livejournal.com profile] tenbears if you don't believe me). In fact everyone should carry a supply just to help out any poor soul they encounter who hasn't had their morning cup, along with always having a little pack of tissues, spare change and tampons.

And you could pack an emergency supply when you went camping, in case you couldn't actually make a cup of tea because maybe you'd run out of water and you were dying of thirst and this way, you could suck on your emergency supply of tea fudge and at least you wouldn't die cranky.

Unless I'd already scoffed yours.

But at least you wouldn't die with *me* being cranky.


It's a great idea!
splodgenoodles: (Lady Penelope's car.)
What's wrong with you?

Tea fudge.

Fudge with the good strong taste of an Irish or English Breakfast Tea. A real hit of tannin.

It'd be fabulous!

And no tea leaves to get stuck between your teeth from when you get to the bottom of the cup and start chewing because you haven't quite had enough of what you need.


Why do people gag whenever I talk about tea fudge and why it should exist?

It would be so handy when you were travelling and unsure of where your next cup of tea was coming from and anyone who's experienced me when I can't get my morning cuppa would surely see the sense in this. (Ask [livejournal.com profile] tenbears if you don't believe me). In fact everyone should carry a supply just to help out any poor soul they encounter who hasn't had their morning cup, along with always having a little pack of tissues, spare change and tampons.

And you could pack an emergency supply when you went camping, in case you couldn't actually make a cup of tea because maybe you'd run out of water and you were dying of thirst and this way, you could suck on your emergency supply of tea fudge and at least you wouldn't die cranky.

Unless I'd already scoffed yours.

But at least you wouldn't die with *me* being cranky.


It's a great idea!
splodgenoodles: (Default)
One.

This morning I got up to go to the loo and as I was getting back into bed, I pulled a muscle in my back.

It was the sort of pain that makes you wonder if it's a muscle or your liver finally packing it in, which has you lying there for a few minutes just trying to work out what the hell you've done and being unable to actually get anyone's attention because that would involve moving. Eventually 10B wandered past the bedroom and heard my plaintive cry of distress. He and was kind enough to zap a wheatbag and bring me a glass of water with a straw(and no, I didn't need water because of my back, I was just thirsty although I must say the water did help take my mind off things). Also, the straw was a bendy straw but it had an extra hole in it somewhere so the challenge of trying to drink through it was almost as good as soduku.

Fortunately, within the hour the pain had subsided enough that I went back off to sleep and I was fine three hours later.

Weird.

~~~

Two.

Yesterday we went to the supermarket and I bought me a smoked trout. Mmm smoked trout.

Today I cheerfully pulled it out of the fridge and tried to cut off a slice for lunch. The texture wasn't right - it was kind of crumbly. That's when I did the second dumbest thing in the world and put some in my mouth and yes, it definitely was not right. Then I did the dumbest thing in the world and swallowed it, still trying to convince myself that it was okay because I was *really* looking forward to this little treat.

I've been feeling faintly queasy ever since and even though I've eaten other food and drunk ginger tea and bagged it all up and binned it, put the used utensils in the dishwasher and run it, washed my fishy fingers in dettol and two kinds of soap, I can still smell and taste the rotten thing.

And as I was throwing it out, I realised it was all bendy. Very bad sign.

~~~

What comes next?

So that's two things and things like this come in threes. I fear something else is going to happen.

Am sorely tempted to deliberately stub my toe on something just to get it over with.

It's a very good thing I forgot to do my B12 injection today, I probably would have stuck my eyeball by mistake. In the overall scheme of things I'd prefer a stubbed toe.

~~~

This can't be three.

Case manager came today and things are looking better regarding home care. This is good. Unless she's secretly an assassin just pretending to be a case manager, checking the layout of the place for when she comes back to do us in.

~~~

This can't be three either.

I rang my GP's practice and spoke to a nice man who said to just take something for the runs if I get them, and something for the nausea if I want. In other words (when I pushed him), no it doesn't sound like anything beyond unpleasant.

This is also good. Unless the GP in question is wildly incompetent and doesn't know that mild queasiness is the first sign of wildly dangerous food poisoning. Or is an assassin pretending to be a GP and no doubt probably responsible for the bad fish in the first place.


~~~

Also not three.
It's now midnight and I'm feeling okay as long as I don't dwell on the fact that I've eaten manky fish or remember the taste. I had dry bikkies with promite for tea, and a bit of kefir (that yoghurt drink that I'm trying to convert everyone to because it's so yum and good for you and *everything*, and if more people drank it, maybe it would actually be available more often and at more places), some milk arrowroot biscuits and some lemon cordial. All good things for a touchy stomach.

So this is good too, unless feeling okay is a sign of impending death.



~~~

Ooh - this could be three.

It has just occured to me that I have no desire to eat smoked trout at the moment. If this is one of those defining moments that makes me a non-eater of smoked fish, like those people who go green when they see an oyster and explain that once they loved oyster but one day there they were doing a technicolour yawn all over a nice fashionable restaurant and they haven't been able to eat oysters since, I think my time on this earth may as well be over. I'd rather stub my toe. Badly, every day forever. While pushing a rock up a mountain.

The gods, they are cruel.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
One.

This morning I got up to go to the loo and as I was getting back into bed, I pulled a muscle in my back.

It was the sort of pain that makes you wonder if it's a muscle or your liver finally packing it in, which has you lying there for a few minutes just trying to work out what the hell you've done and being unable to actually get anyone's attention because that would involve moving. Eventually 10B wandered past the bedroom and heard my plaintive cry of distress. He and was kind enough to zap a wheatbag and bring me a glass of water with a straw(and no, I didn't need water because of my back, I was just thirsty although I must say the water did help take my mind off things). Also, the straw was a bendy straw but it had an extra hole in it somewhere so the challenge of trying to drink through it was almost as good as soduku.

Fortunately, within the hour the pain had subsided enough that I went back off to sleep and I was fine three hours later.

Weird.

~~~

Two.

Yesterday we went to the supermarket and I bought me a smoked trout. Mmm smoked trout.

Today I cheerfully pulled it out of the fridge and tried to cut off a slice for lunch. The texture wasn't right - it was kind of crumbly. That's when I did the second dumbest thing in the world and put some in my mouth and yes, it definitely was not right. Then I did the dumbest thing in the world and swallowed it, still trying to convince myself that it was okay because I was *really* looking forward to this little treat.

I've been feeling faintly queasy ever since and even though I've eaten other food and drunk ginger tea and bagged it all up and binned it, put the used utensils in the dishwasher and run it, washed my fishy fingers in dettol and two kinds of soap, I can still smell and taste the rotten thing.

And as I was throwing it out, I realised it was all bendy. Very bad sign.

~~~

What comes next?

So that's two things and things like this come in threes. I fear something else is going to happen.

Am sorely tempted to deliberately stub my toe on something just to get it over with.

It's a very good thing I forgot to do my B12 injection today, I probably would have stuck my eyeball by mistake. In the overall scheme of things I'd prefer a stubbed toe.

~~~

This can't be three.

Case manager came today and things are looking better regarding home care. This is good. Unless she's secretly an assassin just pretending to be a case manager, checking the layout of the place for when she comes back to do us in.

~~~

This can't be three either.

I rang my GP's practice and spoke to a nice man who said to just take something for the runs if I get them, and something for the nausea if I want. In other words (when I pushed him), no it doesn't sound like anything beyond unpleasant.

This is also good. Unless the GP in question is wildly incompetent and doesn't know that mild queasiness is the first sign of wildly dangerous food poisoning. Or is an assassin pretending to be a GP and no doubt probably responsible for the bad fish in the first place.


~~~

Also not three.
It's now midnight and I'm feeling okay as long as I don't dwell on the fact that I've eaten manky fish or remember the taste. I had dry bikkies with promite for tea, and a bit of kefir (that yoghurt drink that I'm trying to convert everyone to because it's so yum and good for you and *everything*, and if more people drank it, maybe it would actually be available more often and at more places), some milk arrowroot biscuits and some lemon cordial. All good things for a touchy stomach.

So this is good too, unless feeling okay is a sign of impending death.



~~~

Ooh - this could be three.

It has just occured to me that I have no desire to eat smoked trout at the moment. If this is one of those defining moments that makes me a non-eater of smoked fish, like those people who go green when they see an oyster and explain that once they loved oyster but one day there they were doing a technicolour yawn all over a nice fashionable restaurant and they haven't been able to eat oysters since, I think my time on this earth may as well be over. I'd rather stub my toe. Badly, every day forever. While pushing a rock up a mountain.

The gods, they are cruel.

Quinces.

Apr. 13th, 2008 02:40 pm
splodgenoodles: (Default)
I am rather buggered today. Was going to go straight back to bed after breaky but I sat down here and don't want to get up.

But last night I managed to cook, of all things.

Yes, this the non-baking noodle has, in fact, baked.

Or something.

We have some quinces, courtesy of [livejournal.com profile] celsa (who has also been a wool fairy!) and I've always been curious about them. Moreso now because I have a baby quince tree and need to decide if it's really worth my while keeping it. I've really only ever eaten quince paste, which I love but which requires a willingness to actually play in the kitchen, which is not something I really have, even when I'm well. So I figure I need to test out idiot-proof cooking methods in search of something yummy enough to make it worth the bother.

So last night I peeled and chopped up two quinces and put them in a small pyrex baking dish with rather a lot of butter and raw sugar, some cinnamon, a slosh of water and a squirt of honey, as per the Stephanie Alexander cooking bible. Cooked for about 90 minutes on 180 and ate with cream.

Not bad, although a bit tart - I suspect they'll be nicer today, eaten chilled. They have a nice rich flavour, much nicer than pears or apples. I think I'll probably prefer them with ginger than cinnamon. The raw quinces were drier inside than I was expecting - possibly they weren't properly ripe. I picked the yellowest that we've got, but it's hard to know what 'yellow' means when you're dealing with an unfamiliar fruit and you don't actually have a colour chart. Swatches are needed.

Apparently they'll keep for ages, and can also be frozen whole -it sounds to me like you could have quinces all year round if you were keen. And the cooking was easy - no precision or thinking required for a good result. (I do have this problem with food, which is that if I have to go to any trouble preparing it, I don't feel like eating it...analyse this to your heart's content).

And my stomach seems to like them: the Crohn's Disease generally means I can't eat much fruit but these seem to have gotten past the doorbitch. Cooked pome fruits (apples, pear and now quinces) seem to be relatively okay for my gut, but I usually dislike cooked apples and find pears kind of dull. But my gut does not appear to be suffering unduly today, so maybe I've hit on something with quinces.

We keep the tree.

~~~~

Quinces.

Apr. 13th, 2008 02:40 pm
splodgenoodles: (Default)
I am rather buggered today. Was going to go straight back to bed after breaky but I sat down here and don't want to get up.

But last night I managed to cook, of all things.

Yes, this the non-baking noodle has, in fact, baked.

Or something.

We have some quinces, courtesy of [livejournal.com profile] celsa (who has also been a wool fairy!) and I've always been curious about them. Moreso now because I have a baby quince tree and need to decide if it's really worth my while keeping it. I've really only ever eaten quince paste, which I love but which requires a willingness to actually play in the kitchen, which is not something I really have, even when I'm well. So I figure I need to test out idiot-proof cooking methods in search of something yummy enough to make it worth the bother.

So last night I peeled and chopped up two quinces and put them in a small pyrex baking dish with rather a lot of butter and raw sugar, some cinnamon, a slosh of water and a squirt of honey, as per the Stephanie Alexander cooking bible. Cooked for about 90 minutes on 180 and ate with cream.

Not bad, although a bit tart - I suspect they'll be nicer today, eaten chilled. They have a nice rich flavour, much nicer than pears or apples. I think I'll probably prefer them with ginger than cinnamon. The raw quinces were drier inside than I was expecting - possibly they weren't properly ripe. I picked the yellowest that we've got, but it's hard to know what 'yellow' means when you're dealing with an unfamiliar fruit and you don't actually have a colour chart. Swatches are needed.

Apparently they'll keep for ages, and can also be frozen whole -it sounds to me like you could have quinces all year round if you were keen. And the cooking was easy - no precision or thinking required for a good result. (I do have this problem with food, which is that if I have to go to any trouble preparing it, I don't feel like eating it...analyse this to your heart's content).

And my stomach seems to like them: the Crohn's Disease generally means I can't eat much fruit but these seem to have gotten past the doorbitch. Cooked pome fruits (apples, pear and now quinces) seem to be relatively okay for my gut, but I usually dislike cooked apples and find pears kind of dull. But my gut does not appear to be suffering unduly today, so maybe I've hit on something with quinces.

We keep the tree.

~~~~
splodgenoodles: (Default)

Cow Wall. Cow Wall.
I was sorry to see this nice wall of cows get mostly painted over a little while ago, but happily it hasn't been entirely covered and now it has these little people catching balls as well.




Roboty Thing. Roboty Thing.
These have also appeared on Cow Wall.




Neat, huh?

In other news, I had a rip-snorting good yum cha today, with [livejournal.com profile] erudito and [livejournal.com profile] montjoye and I'm pretty sure we'll be dragging all and sundry back with us next time - and I reckon I might try dragging Wazza over there sometime too.

And they did really good tripe - when it's done well, it's bloody beautiful. I live for the odd moments where someone actually gets it right, which is why I end up eating a lot of chewy crap. Or not eating it - just chewing it for hours and hours until salivary action and my by-then ground-down teeth have finally reduced it to slush, assuming I haven't found the right moment to discreetly spit it into a serviette or someone else's bag.

Trust me, I wouldn't put myself through that if the good times weren't worth it - I mean it's not like I'm some sort of incurable optimist who expects things to go well and bounces back from disappointment isn't it? No of course not. I just know that I have to take the risk every time or there's no chance of good tripe, ever. (And I spend many nights and days sobbing while holding a heat pad against my jaw, in case you were wondering).

Point is, good tripe.

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