Cheese and crackers aren’t supposed to be exciting. But call it a Smörgåsbord and suddenly, Jan and I are in. It’s the go-to supper when we don’t really feel like cooking or going out. But it’s also not the meal to make if we’re feeling lazy either, as we typically spend a good deal of time slicing every type of meat or cheese currently in our refrigerator.
Growing up, the Smorgasbord was the typical Christmas Eve dinner in my family. In additional to meats, cheeses, crackers and breads, we’d add special items like smoked Salmon and homemade Swedish meatballs. We’d also make sure to have pickled herring on hand, which I loved as a kid, that is, before I realized that it was pickled fish swimming in a sour cream sauce. Though I went through many years disgusted by it, I’m now slowing letting the little jar back into my life.
And now, even minus the excitement of impending Christmas-present-opening, this dinner is so much fun. Maybe because we have a soft spot for the appetizers-for-dinner meal, or creating each little bite at the table makes us take our time enjoying dinner. I think the best part is trying different combinations and determining the best.
Clockwise from top: spreadable Port cheese, blue cheese, Gruyere, Dubliner, Muenster, double-cream Brie, and Swiss in the center
This last time, Jan raved about the prosciutto paired with aged Parmesan, while I was smitten with the Black Forest Ham and Swiss Cheese on Black Rye bread. While Jan got creative with his presentation, drizzling balsamic vinegar over a log of goat cheese and sprinkling chopped fresh basil on top, I took it one step further and spread this mixture on a slice of Granny Smith apple for a surprisingly tasty combination.
While some items make it back for another Smorgasbord dinner, each of these meals is never the same, and maybe that’s why it’s so exciting. Something traditional and simple can sometimes lead to innovation, if we’re willing to try something new.
When Jan comes back from being away at a fire assignment, he’ll often ask me what I ate while he was gone. It’s a simple enough question, but I’m always embarrassed to answer. See the thing is, I don’t always feel like going to great lengths cooking dinner when it’s just me. Really, I’m lazy. When Jan returns, I’ll go through my list of lunch and dinner dates catching up with friends, or my rundown of what I ate at my dad’s house.
But I’m really just putting off his question with a bunch of distractions. He cracks up when I finally answer with one word: chicken.
Chicken ten ways, I call it.
Or more precisely, Costco rotisserie chicken (and you can’t beat the price at $4.99), cooked and ready to enjoy. There’s no end to all the different meals I can make with it, besides just eating the chicken by itself. I’ll eat the drumstick and thigh the same night I buy it, still often finger-burning-hot by the time I get it home. Then I use the rest for a variety of other meals over the course of a week, including Chinese chicken salad, chicken noodle soup, chicken tacos, and chicken enchiladas.
The short list of dinner ingredients
I recently shared the first night dinner (when you eat the chicken right away when it is fresh and hot) with my friend Nevin, and she was impressed by the simplicity of it.
That day, I came home from a visit to my dad’s with a bounty of eggplant, squash, tomatoes, figs, and some gourds I have no name for. But for this dinner, I was focusing on the fresh tomatoes.
From dad's garden
I sautéed some spinach in olive oil and garlic, along with some tomatoes. After plating, I sprinkled the vegetables with some parmesan cheese and enjoyed.
When I told Jan about this dinner, he only shook his head. On one hand, I think he’s glad my diet hadn’t consisted solely of Cheerios and rocky road ice cream, while on the other, he’s disappointed at my lack of creativity in the kitchen. After all, he had either been eating hearty catered meals at fire camp, or helicoptered-in MREs out in the wilderness (MRE=Meal, Ready to Eat, also known as military rations). With my access to a kitchen full of ingredients, he’d hoped I’d be eating better than him.
But with this year’s fire season keeping Jan closer to home, somewhere along the way, he started to open his mind up a little more to this Costco chicken. He started brainstorming dishes outside of my usual salads and Tex-Mex, and while he has yet to purchase a chicken on his own, he may be getting close.
I’m hoping this post will serve as part one in a series about all the great things we can do with a pre-cooked Costco rotisserie chicken, with more semi-lazy dinners and lunches to come.
After a day of walking up and down hills, good food, great friends, and free-flowing drinks, I’m happily exhausted. I love how that’s the way things are on visits to San Francisco.
When Jan had a bachelor party to attend in the city and suggested I drive up with him and spend time with our friend Lucy, I quickly agreed.
After arriving at Lucy’s in Haight Ashbury, our first stop, before we could do anything else, was to get Jan some serious food. We walked to Rosamunde’s Sausage Grill, where Jan ordered the nuernberger bratwurst (savory pork). We waited in the small restaurant, which had a handful of barstools lining the counters at the front windows.
Two sausages were grilled and served with sauerkraut and peppers on a toasted French roll. This was the kind of gourmet hot dog Jan had been dreaming of. But we had to get back in time to head off for the picnic Lucy planned, so we tested the to-go qualities of the bun as we walked back to get the rest of the picnic ready. Jan might have had mustard all over his face, but he could now carve the chicken Lucy had roasted earlier without dying of hunger.
While Jan headed off to meet the boys at AT&T Park for a Giants game, Lucy and I caught the bus and headed toward the Presidio.
The multi-million dollar view
We met friends at the top of the Lyon steps at Lyon and Broadway, enjoying a beautiful view on a sunny day. Then we walked into the adjacent Presidio in search of a good picnic spot. Our map hadn’t told us of all the construction projects going on where picnic tables had been listed, but we finally found a table hidden away between rows of converted army housing.
Not your average picnic
Lucy was a picnic pro, and I was so impressed that she brought tablecloths, real plates, and silverware. I thought that was what had made Lucy’s backpack so heavy on our walk through the Presidio, at least until Lucy pulled out the 32 oz. bottle of Tapatio we’d gotten for her during our last visit! (See An open mind, and mouth, for oysters).
Zesty gazpacho
We feasted on roast chicken, sausages from Rosamunde’s, guacamole, cheese, pickles, dried fruits and several bottles of Pinot Noir. Though I’m not usually a gazpacho fan, Lucy’s gazpacho topped with avocado was excellent. I thought it would have also made the most delicious bloody mary.
But we stuck to red wine, and continued stuffing ourselves on tasty two-bite brownies and chewy peanut butter cookies from Whole Foods. We rolled ourselves to the bus stop and up the last hill back to Lucy’s place.
After resting our feet and several cups of tea at Lucy’s, it was time to continue work burning off our picnic. We met up with Jan on his way back from the bachelor party and all headed to the Castro.
The Mix bar on 18th street provided the atmosphere we needed. And it was conveniently located across from Nizario’s pizza, where Jan sampled a combination slice on our way into the bar and the California (chicken, pesto, spinach, and feta) on the way out.
Beautiful breakfast
In the morning, Lucy had prepared us a real Midwestern breakfast. (She’d asked me the day before if I preferred cereal and granola for a lighter option, and I heartily declined, saying I liked to use the vacation excuse whenever I could.)
Sausage, Canadian bacon, bacon, pancakes, berries, and more
We had breakfast sausage, Canadian bacon, and bacon served on the meat platter. There were also pancakes, strawberries, blackberries, and Greek yogurt. Then there was fresh walnut bread and butter. And Lucy even heated the maple syrup on the stove and put it in a mini-pitcher, the perfect combination of West meets Midwest!
Planter at Flora GrubbEven the coffee was artfully arranged
We headed to Flora Grubb Gardens for some backyard inspiration, and Lucy enjoyed a beautiful cup of coffee as I took in garden ideas to duplicate at home (though I won’t be copying the car-as-planter idea).
Gravad lax: a taste of SwedenLast stop: meatballs
After saying goodbye to our gracious host, Jan and I headed across the Bay Bridge. We already had our lunch in mind: meatballs at IKEA in Emeryville. It’s become the tradition that we’ll brave Saturday IKEA crowds for, even though we realize the meatballs aren’t the best. But, we did get to stock up on a staple in our household: Lingonberry preserves.
Finally it was time to head home, for some much-needed rest after our two-day vacation.
Gordon Ramsay had me scared silly over risotto. I’d tasted it once at a friend’s dinner party and wasn’t impressed with what I considered to be a mash-up of mushrooms and mushy rice. So why were all these fancy chefs trying to cook it, to the result of even more bleeps coming from Chef Ramsay’s mouth? On Hell’s Kitchen, one poor chef would always undercook the risotto, causing me to worry that Ramsay would have an immediate heart attack. Kitchen Nightmares (I enjoy the British version seen on BBC America far more than its US counterpart) featured another chef being berated for overcooked, soggy risotto. And I don’t even know how many contestants on Top Chef went home for not cooking the dish just right.
I was determined, I wasn’t going there. But as usual, Jan wanted to push me out of my comfort zone and insisted we try making risotto. After all, with my one below-average taste testing of it, he said there had to be some reason why all these people would risk reality show elimination and Ramsay-sized smackdowns to cook this dish. There had to be something about it that I was missing.
We tried the recipe Chef Jean-Christophe Novelli shared on Chef Academy (recipe here), another cooking reality show that took wannabe chefs and put them through a sort of cooking school boot camp. Chef Novelli was tough, but nurturing. He showed his students the secrets behind risotto without using too many obscenities. (And despite my fear of him coming through my TV to personally spit out my own risotto, I like Chef Ramsay and am convinced he really is a good guy underneath his TV persona and profanity.)
Initial saute of arborio rice
While Jan poured over the recipe and got the ingredients together, I readied myself by the stovetop. After Jan sautéed the onions and herbs, he handed me a spoon and told me to get busy. I poured in the wine and followed the instructions carefully, adding hot broth a spoonful at a time, allowing the rice to absorb the liquid before adding any more. I did not leave my post for a good 45 minutes, watching the arborio rice grains as they slowly became more puffed up with moisture.
Red wine in, slowly adding heated broth
I don’t think you have to be that vigilant to stir for the entire cooking process, but I didn’t want to take any chances. Besides, I was having fun with my task. I could alternate sips of red wine for me, and spoonfuls of broth for the risotto.
Adding the cheese just before serving
I tasted and tasted, not sure when I would know that the risotto was done. For a while, I knew for sure that it needed more cooking time, and then all of a sudden, it seemed like the rice had absorbed the correct amount of broth to be done. I added cheese just before serving, stirring until thoroughly mixed.
It was so delicious! The rice was cooked so that it was still firm when you bit down on it, creating a nutty and slightly chewy (but in a good way) texture. The cheese took the risotto to the next level. It compared to a good mac and cheese: rich, creamy, and comforting, but with more sophistication.
Nothing compares to melty cheese
The first time we tried making risotto, we used white wine. We have since tried it with red wine, which I like because it goes even better with beef. By the time we served it with the bacon wraped filet, tiger prawns, and sautéed spinach seen at the top of this post, I felt like a risotto pro (fourth time making it).
Would it stand up to Chef Ramsay’s standards? I don’t know. I’m glad I’ll never have to find out.
I love homemade hamburgers for many reasons. I’ll stick with the top two. First, I can load up all my favorite toppings and sauces without someone charging me an arm and a leg for a piece of bacon, slice of cheese, or dollop of guacamole. Second, we buy beef chuck or sirloin and use our meat grinder attachment to make our own ground beef, so we have a lot better idea of what’s actually in there.
Prepping the meat for the grinder
There’s only one problem. It’s not how they taste, they’re great in their simplicity and freshness (just salt, pepper, onion, and soy sauce), it’s forming the hamburger patties where we run into trouble. When you go out for a hamburger, the patties are perfectly shaped and evenly sized. I don’t have a problem with imperfect patties aesthetically, it’s just that our patties don’t turn out much like patties at all. They’re more like meatballs. Hence my need to come up with a more appropriate name for the hamburgers served at our house.
I started with the name “meatball-ger,” but that didn’t roll off the tongue very easily. Next came “hamburball,” which I think is perfect. It sounds like one of the evil Bond movie villains, which encapsulates a bit of how I view the hamburball, especially after I learned that Jan was making the patties this way on purpose. Here I was this whole time, thinking, gosh, I wish Jan would just take out my rolling-pin and make those patties look gorgeous. But no, he said he wanted them that way. That the meat was juicier, or thicker in the middle, or something.
Ready for patty-making
But I had to disagree. If you’ve got something shaped like a football, it’s going to cook a lot less evenly than its flying-saucer-shaped counterpart. Besides, how was I going to load up all my toppings (even with a thin bun) and end up with a burger less than three inches tall? To me, an impossible-to-eat burger is on the same scale as a James Bond nemisis.
The whole dinner party debated this topic as we constructed our own burgers from all the fixings: Pickles, mayo, mustard, ketchup, barbecue sauce, guacamole, bacon, cheese, onions, and tomatoes. The goal had been to create an “American” feast for my friend Carina visiting from Sweden, and we might have been successful in that. After all, once we’d moved on from the burger and bun conversation, we discussed the Jerry Springer Show in great depth. And you can’t get any more American than that.
Jan is always looking for the next gadget to assist him in making the perfect meal. I, however, am perpetually concerned about the increasing amount of small, countertop kitchen appliances we accumulate in our linen closet/overflow pantry. It’s not exactly a good combination. It’s the same battle we experience with the condiments (An abundance of condiments, May 2010), but on a larger scale, as appliances are a bigger investment, both in money and space.
I hate being a spoil-sport who always says no, but regardless of what Jan will tell you, I do compromise. I still don’t think we need a pizza oven or a Margaritaville triple Frozen Concoction Maker. But, I’ll admit that the immersion blender is definitely a keeper as is the Williams-Sonoma Vegetable Chop & Measure we’ve recently been using to make quick and easy Pico de Gallo.
We recently made stuffed pasta shells and I realized, in making this meal, we were getting dangerously close to another kitchen gadget I have been putting off — the dreaded pasta maker. After the success of the stuffed shells, Jan’s thinking big: ravioli, tortellini, and–I know it’s coming. But, as we’ve yet to try the ravioli or tortellini with prepared dough, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.
Smažený sýr (I attempt to pronounce it like the Czechs as smah-jeh-knee seer) is a dish that Jan and I ate every day that we were in the Czech Republic. This probably doesn’t sound too bad until you realize that it is basically a steak-sized portion of breaded and deep-fried cheese, often served with french fries, braised cabbage, and a tartar-type sauce. I had never experienced this cheesy goodness until visiting the Czech Republic, and it didn’t sound appealing to me when Jan described it to me beforehand. But, it was so amazing, whenever we sat down at a restaurant to eat there, that had to be one of the dishes we ordered.
Upon our return, Jan assured me that we were safe from continuing our overindulgence in smažený sýr at home, since he’d tried multiple times to make it and it never turned out right.
Well, we were safe for a while. Some time later we ate at San Francisco’s Cafe Prague, and Jan got to talking to one of the chefs there. The two began speaking in Czech so rapidly that I couldn’t even pick out the five Czech words I knew (which include the essentials: beer, ice cream, good, bad, and cheese = syr). Later, Jan reported to me the most important part of their conversation: the secret to making smažený sýr, or fried cheese. Continue reading →
Hosting friends for dinner at our home is a regular occurrence and one of my favorite pastimes. I also enjoy being a dinner guest. I love when our friend Nevin has us for dinner, as it often involves sampling many Trader Joe’s appetizers at her house, or her taking us out. Nevin’s philosophy is, if she bought it, that means she cooked it, and that works for us. This time, it was the Sushi love boat for two, which we realized, after the three of us devoured the whole thing, probably should feed about four. At Japanese Kitchen in Clovis.
Ribs and Champagne might not be a traditional combination, but it ought to be. When paired with Jan’s version of brussels sprouts and Czech potato salad, all the components came together surprisingly well. I found brussels sprouts too bitter before I tried Jan’s take on them, which he sautéd in chicken broth and bacon.
Wash Brussels sprouts, trim the ends, cut them in half, and set aside. Cut bacon into 1/2 inch strips and saute over medium-high heat until crispy. Remove bacon and the fat from the pan, leaving about 1 teaspoon worth of bacon fat. Add olive oil to pan and add the Brussells sprouts to begin cooking. (Option to keep all the bacon fat and use instead of the olive oil, or remove all the bacon fat and use only olive oil). Add chicken broth, and cover pan with lid. Let cook until Brussels sprouts are tender and the broth is mostly absorbed. Uncover, add bacon, salt and pepper, and stir together for another few minutes.
For a bacon-free version, simply sauté the Brussels sprouts in the olive oil, then add the chicken broth.
Rough translation: spiced Indian feast. Since Laura gave me Madhur Jaffrey’s Quick & Easy Indian Cooking and a large bag full of Indian spices and ingredients, I’ve been excited for my first foray into Indian cooking. A weekend visit from my friend Anjali was the perfect time: I would have a well-practiced coach to guide me.
Our list of items to make from the cookbook: onion fritters, yogurt sauce with tomato and cucumber, and rice with mushrooms and mustard seed. Anjali used her own recipe for Chana Masala, which translates to spiced chickpeas. I knew it wasn’t Indian, but I included a toned-down version of the Lebanese Fattoush salad with Romaine lettuce, cucumber, tomato, green onion, radish, and the Sumac salad dressing.
The spices bring the scent of Indian cuisine into the kitchen
We made a list of things we needed from the store, including the spices nutmeg and cardamom, chickpea flour, and vegetables. We already had many of the spices, including whole and ground cumin, whole cloves, and whole coriander seeds, and even though the recipes called for ground versions of those, I was confident we could use the mini food processor to grind the spices.
India Sweets and Spices on Cedar and Herndon (in the same shopping center as Tahoe Joe’s and Casa Corona) provided us with chickpea flour, which was called Besan or Chana flour. Anjali also recommended an Indian trail mix of sorts called Kaju mixture, which was a spicy blend of nuts, puffed rice, potato sticks, chickpeas and spices.
Turning whole cloves into ground
At home, as soon as we began grinding the spices, the kitchen smelled fragrantly warm and rich. The food processor, however, couldn’t get the spices ground fine enough, and the volcanic mortar and pestle wasn’t cutting it either.
Through a combination of the mortar and pestle, as well as putting the spices in a zip-top bag and hitting them with the smooth side of the meat grinder, we managed to grind them sufficiently. Next time, I’ll buy the spices pre-ground or figure out a better solution.
Onion fritters
We made the yogurt sauce first, which combined plain yogurt with salt, black pepper, cayenne pepper, ground cumin, diced tomato, and diced cucumber. I often make a similar yogurt sauce to serve with grilled salmon, but this version kicked it up a notch with the spices.
Anjali began prepping the ingredients for the rice and Chana Masala, and quoted her mom, saying the beginning to a great Indian feast starts with oil, cumin, and onions. Soon after, she added the mustard seeds, and waited for them to start popping in the oil. The kitchen began to smell better and better.
Fireworks on our plates and for the Fourth of July
While the rice and chickpeas cooked, we got to work on the onion fritters, which combined onions, yellow mustard seed, chickpea flour, chopped jalapeno, and spices.
We sat outside in the front courtyard and watched Jan and our neighbors set off fireworks for the Fourth of July. Our Indian feast was definitely a success and the onion fritters were the biggest hit of the night. The yogurt sauce offered a light and tangy flavor that complimented the fried bites. I also found the combination of the mushroom rice and Chana Masala to be surprisingly good. With a full stomach, a new confidence and sense of adventure, I was ready to tackle more recipes in the book.
Cheese and crackers aren’t supposed to be exciting. But call it a Smörgåsbord and suddenly, Jan and I are in. It’s the go-to supper when we don’t really feel like cooking or going out. But it’s also not the meal to make if we’re feeling lazy either, as we typically spend a good deal of time slicing every type of meat or cheese currently in our refrigerator.
Our Life in Meals 
