Byzantine Lamb

Here in the UK, daylight savings time ended over the weekend (or started? I don't know how DST works, but we fell back an hour), and now I am getting up during daylight hours but getting off work after work and so far that is not my favourite thing. This is my third Scottish autumn/winter, but I still haven't gotten used to how quickly the seasons change. Living this far north (Edinburgh is on the same latitude line as Alaska!) means that when winter comes, it comes on fast, with the days shrinking until they're only a few hours long. Conversely, it also means that the summer days are so long they seem endless... it's a nice tradeoff, once you get used to the short winter days. But the first few are always a brutal trade, and it doesn't help that the UK, for some reason, does time-changes on a different calendar than the rest of the world, meaning it happens two weeks before my birthday, instead of the weekend of my birthday, like in the US. So, with the time change comes my desire for warm, hearty meals that are still relatively healthy, and thus enters Byzantine Lamb.

As previously discussed last time I made a lamb recipe from the box, we're not really big lamb eaters in the Cowan house. Unless it comes in a curry or in Greek food, we generally stay away from lamb, but not really for any good reason other than the fact that lamb done badly is really bad, whereas most other meats done badly are still, well, edible. While living Stateside, it was easy to avoid lamb-- I don't remember the grocery stores selling it, and try though I might, I never found a decent Greek restaurant in the last few US cities I lived in. Here in Scotland, though, lamb is everywhere. It's always on the menu at restaurants, it has as much space devoted to it at the grocery store as beef does, and, in a country that boasts more sheep (6 million) than people (5 million), it's a pretty ubiquitous dish.

So I've been excited about this Byzantine Lamb recipe for awhile: I mean, it comes from Byzantium, so how could I not be stoked about this? Judson, too, was totally into it until I revealed that it involves a can of tomato soup... at which point I lost him until the dish was on the table and he tasted it and realised how delicious it was. Don't let the weird inclusion of a can of soup deter you: this meal is delicious, and it includes a ton of veggies I usually can't find uses for, like aubergines/eggplants and bell peppers. Plus, because of how long it cooks, you can clean up the entire kitchen before you actually sit down to the meal, and then have minimal clean-up after dinner. We really enjoyed this meal, surprisingly. It makes enough for a good amount of leftovers, but it reheats pretty well, so we didn't mind (though we didn't fight about them the way we did with last week's chili and cornbread).

You can spice it up with sriracha if you're more into that, or just have it plain if that's how you roll. Next time we make it, we're going to swap out the can of soup for a can of tomato passata, but it's still delicious with the soup, and I'd still recommend it. Plus, when was the last time you ate something Byzantine for dinner?

P.S. The reverse of this recipe includes a coupon that expired in 1971. The fine print on the coupon begins 'Dear Mr. Grocer....,' so if I learn nothing else from this recipe project, it's at least nice to know how far women have come since the days of the 1970s, when they weren't even allowed to be grocers.

The verdict:

3 spoons out of five. Swap the soup for a can of tomatoes as noted above, and you can definitely boost this to 4 spoons.

The recipe:

Byzantine Lamb

the directions:

Sprinkle the lamb with salt and pepper, then roast the lamb for 10 minutes at 200C/400F or until just barely cooked through, then set aside.
In a skillet, cook aubergines/eggplant and green pepper with garlic and thyme in butter until tender.
Add soup and lamb.
Bring to a boil, then stir in rice.
Cover and cook over low heat 10 minutes or until most of liquid is absorbed.
Drizzle with lemon juice and serve with fresh lemon slices.

Yields 4 hearty servings.

the ingredients:

2 c aubergine/eggplant, cubed, from about 1 ½ medium aubergines
1/3 c green bell pepper, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
¼ tsp thyme (less if dried)
2 tbsp butter
1 can tomato soup
1 lb lamb, cut in strips
1 1/3 c rice
1 lemon, cut in slices

Chicken Casserole

Here is an awesome fact about my family: My mom was born the exact day Marty McFly goes back to in Back to the Future, and I was born on the exact day that he returns to the present. This is what that should tell you about me and my mom: my mom was 30 when I was born, our birthdays are a week apart (and coming up soon!), and we are awesome.

When I realised that yesterday was 'Back to the Future Day,' the date in Back to the Future II that Marty arrives at when he jumps into the future, I was stoked to be able to go see the movie in a real theatre. We got dinner at a local American restaurant with some friends and caught a late showing of the movie, and when we walked home at 11:30 last night, it was so mild I didn't even zip up my coat. I was so excited that we were having a mild day with no wind at all, that I drastically underdressed for work today, was freezing all day, and spent most of my waking hours pining for something as cosy and warming as this casserole was when I made it last week.

Originally I was putting off making this casserole until it got closer to the new year, because the recipe card that it's on reads 'here are a couple of recipes you will want to clip and save to start 1989 out right,' and I thought it was hilarious that the date is almost exactly 27 years in the past... but then, as often happens, I got hungry, and so we made the chicken casserole for dinner last week. Eleanor had left some pencilled in notes on this one because she apparently only ever made it as a half-recipe, so I followed her lead and cut the whole thing in half (not least because I don't have a single piece of crockery that could hold 2 entire chickens, even if they are cut up).*

Let's be honest: casseroles aren't a cool dish. They're not cool to make, they're definitely not cool to like, and they're even too uncool to serve to a dinner guest. But I still like them, especially ones like this that are hearty and warm, without leaving you feeling as though you just ate a brick after you finish your meal. And the older I get, the more I realise the benefits of a good casserole: All the dishes are washed before you sit down to eat! There're always leftovers! Said leftovers reheat like a charm! Bone-in chicken is so much cheaper than cutlets! The house smells amazing!

We ate it for dinner one night and then were both excited to reheat it the next evening. It's an easy dish to match with any vegetable that's in season, so we had it with a fig-and-green salad. It would go just as perfectly with a tray of roasted veggies, which would be easy to pop into the oven during the last half-hour of cooking.

*I laughed when I realised she had written the halved measurements next to every single ingredient, even the obvious ones like '1 can of soup,' where she crossed out the one and wrote '½' in the margin. I was mocking Eleanor in my head for this, until I remembered how many times I've cut a recipe in half mentally and forgotten to reduce one ingredient, ruining the entire meal. Clearly she was onto something. The version below is cut in half; it could easily and accurately be doubled to serve twice as many... if you have a dish big enough to cook it.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. It's delicious, it's warm, it's super easy, and if you're in for a sudden burst of Arctic weather like we were today, it should already be in your oven by now.

I made judson buy this le creuset for me last time we were in the US because it's a colour that's not sold in britain and then we had to carry it home on a plane and i regret nothing!

I made judson buy this le creuset for me last time we were in the US because it's a colour that's not sold in britain and then we had to carry it home on a plane and i regret nothing!

The recipe:

Chicken Casserole

the directions:

Preheat oven to 160C/325F and grease a large roasting pan.
Mix together can of soup, milk, and rice and pour into the roasting pan.
Lay chicken on top of rice mixture, then sprinkle the dry soup mix over the entire dish, pressing in a bit where necessary.
Cover and bake for 2 hours.
Uncover the dish and bake for an additional 15 minutes to allow it to brown on top.

Serves 4 heartily, or 6 petitely with side dishes.

the ingredients:

1 can cream of mushroom or cream of celery soup
1 ¼ cans milk
1 cup long-grain rice (we used a mixture of basmati and wild rice)
1 chicken, cut up and rubbed liberally with salt and pepper
1 package dry onion soup mix (if you live in the US where you can get Lipton, use it and pour some out for me. I haven't yet found a place that sells it over here, and I do miss cooking with it so much!)

Chili & Cornbread: Autumn Fare

Did you ever stop to think about how 'chilly' and 'chili' mean literally opposite things, but that when the weather turns into the former, all you want to eat is the latter?
Well, I have.

Here's a fun chili story: while Judson and I were dating, I moved into an apartment in an old schoolhouse. My flat was amazing: there were floor to ceiling windows lining one entire wall, and a chalkboard running the length of another wall. I had a pool and a designated parking spot in the busiest neighborhood in town, and it was awesome. So, shortly after moving in, of course I decided to host a game night and dinner party for some friends. Judson, as my co-host, agreed to help me plan the menu, and together we decided on chili and cornbread.

But then we hit our first snag: we both wanted to make our mom's chili recipe. I thought I should get priority because we were hosting the game night in my house, and Judson thought he should get priority because we were using his games. Eventually, we came to the conclusion that we would each get our own mother's recipe, and then compare them to see which one sounded more delicious, and make that one. (Full disclosure: there was a bit of a heated discussion involved in achieving this compromise).

We phoned our moms, diligently wrote down their recipes word for word as they were dictated to us, and then compared notes. But here's what we found: our moms' chili recipes were exactly the same. And what's better? Both of our moms, upon being asked for their chili recipes, responded in kind with some variation of 'I mean, you brown some meat, and some onions and some bell peppers, and then you season it and then you cook it until it looks like chili. I dunno!'

Crisis was averted as we realised we'd be able to make both of our moms' recipes simultaneously, but it would be another year or so before we realised that what this really meant is that we both grew up eating pretty basic chili. Since then, we've figured out how to make it our own, and while we both still prefer a version similar to what we grew up with, we've added toppings and spices and different cooking methods to make it in our own Cowan way.

And ever since that evening in my schoolhouse apartment, not an autumn has gone by that has not seen us brewing up a big pot of chili and inviting our friends over to take part. So when I realised autumn was upon us, I was excited to search out a chili recipe from the box. Eleanor had good taste in cosy foods, and my mom had to have learned her recipe from somewhere, so I assumed this would be a bit of a copout and I'd get to make my favourite chili recipe and still call it a blog entry.

Yeah, you try taking a picture of a bowl of chili and making it look delicious. It's harder than it sounds.

Yeah, you try taking a picture of a bowl of chili and making it look delicious. It's harder than it sounds.

But then I read the recipe. There are only three ingredients listed on it, and here they are:

'5 salts.'
'2 T powder.'
'½ + sugar.'

Ahem. So this one required quite a bit of ingenuity on my part, to say the least. But we were having friends over, so it was the perfect time to try this out, and on this recipe, Eleanor did not fail me (though her vague notes may mean she was trying to). Additionally, we served it with cornbread, as all chili should be, and though I don't have one of those cast-iron pans that makes cornbread in the shape of an ear of corn, it was still delicious.

The verdict:
the chili:

Look at the crumb on that cornbread! look at it!

Look at the crumb on that cornbread! look at it!

5 spoons out of five. This may not be a new dish, but it's classic, comforting, warming, and hearty, and most of all, it's delicious. Make this for some friends, and serve it with pride. Your house will smell amazing, and you'll never feel cosier than you do curled up with friends and a bowl of this chili.

The cornbread:

4 spoons out of five. This cornbread is perfect for what it is (authentic, rustic cornbread). But nowadays the prevalence of Jiffy cornbread mix and Boston Market has made everyone think cornbread should be sweet, and this isn't. So for that, I'm docking a spoon-- just so you don't make it and think that it's boring in it's plainness. Important note: if you, like me in real life but not like me on this blog, are not into following recipes to the letter, then dress this up as you wish. A handful of pickled jalapeños give it kick; some chopped up queso fresco will make it creamier and less crumbly; reducing the butter by a few tablespoons and swapping it with honey will make a sweeter bread; adding in some freshly shucked corn or thawed frozen creamed corn will make a more rustic bread. If you have a corn-ear cast-iron pan, then I am jealous and you should make this in it. If you don't, use a skillet for maximum back-woods-ness. Failing either of these, a round layer cake pan or an 8x8 square pan work just fine.

The recipe:

Classic Chili

the directions:

Chop the onions and saute in a spoonful of oil until soft and translucent.
Add beef and brown over medium heat.
Add chili powder, salt, and green pepper, stirring to combine.
Add well-drained beans and undrained tomatoes.
Stir well, then add sugar to taste.
Stir again and let simmer, uncovered over low heat for at least 10 minutes or until desired consistency (I usually simmer mine for about 40 minutes).

Serve with garnishes as listed above, and fresh warm cornbread.

 

the ingredients:

2 yellow onions, chopped coarsely
1 lb ground beef
1 green bell pepper, chopped coarsely
2 tbsp chili powder
2 tsp salt (+ more to taste)
2 cans kidney beans, well-drained
3 cans tomatoes, not drained
1-2 tbsp sugar

optional (but recommended) additions:

Red pepper
Black pepper
3 cloves chopped garlic, stirred in with the chili powder

Garnishes:

Sour cream
Fresh chilies, chopped
Pickled jalapenos
Sharp cheddar cheese, grated
Hot sauce

The recipe:

Classic, Unsweetened Cornbread

THE DIRECTIONS:

Preheat oven to 218C/425F.
Grease an 8x8 pan or a cast-iron, ovensafe skillet.
Sift flour once, then measure it into your mixing bowl.
Add baking powder, sugar, and salt, and sift again.
Add corn meal or polenta and mix well.
In a separate bowl, combine eggs and milk and beat well.
Add egg mixture to dry ingredients, stirring until combined.
Pour melted butter into batter and stir until texture is uniform.
Bake 30-40 minutes, until brown and firm on top.

Serve with a steaming bowl of chili. Best served fresh within a day of making it, but will last for up to four days at room temperature.

the ingredients:

1 ¼ c flour
2 ¼ c baking powder
2 tbsp sugar
1 tsp salt
1 c cornmeal (in the UK, this will likely be labelled as polenta, and sold in fine-coarse varieties. I recommend coarse yellow polenta. Do not substitute Jiffy cornbread mix from the American grocery store for this, as it won't work)
2 eggs, beaten well
1 ¼ c milk
4 tbsp butter, melted