Librari[d]an

As you can see to the right, in a photo by Dong-A Ilbo, there is no more powerful imagery than thousands of votives flickering amongst the illuminated skyscrapers of Seoul. On June 11, 2008, this stunning photo graced the cover of The New York Times.

What compelling idea could unite these concerned citizens under a common banner? Ending world hunger? A push for global human rights? A call for ethnic and racial tolerance?

Nope. These South Koreans are pissed about American beef imports. Yes, American beef imports. Let me say it one more time, for emphasis: AMERICAN BEEF IMPORTS.

Now, the French will riot over anything, you name it: Bread, salt, ethnic tension, just because they are students, just because they are French. This is okay, because they are French and Parisians have a long and glorious history of rioting. (For an analogous American tradition, it’s kind of like rioting at Penn State’s Arts Fest. It just isn’t Arts Fest unless someone throws a flaming couch from a seventh-story apartment onto Beaver Ave, right?) So the French - and to a much lesser extent the students of Penn State - have earned their right to public spectacle. They go crazy, and the world may or may not respond. There’s an understanding. But what do our candlelit South Koreans think they’ll accomplish just by standing around? Do government policies get changed just by standing around?

Lets talk about economics. If you buy a bunch of candles and stand in the street, this will not really impact the importing of beef in your country. It will be a windfall for candlemakers and congest your city’s streets for several hours. You may get on the cover of The New York Times, but nothing will change. However, if you snuff out those candles, go home, and stop buying American beef things might. (The concern is over mad cow disease, so why the hell are they eating beef anyways?) It’s called boycotting; it’s what anyone with a lick of sense does when an issue can hinge on purchasing power.

I honestly have no patience for things like this. Get your stupid luminarias and stupid bodies out of the way and buy South Korean beef.

:: Bibliography ::

• Sang-Hun, Choe. “Korean Leader Considers Ways to Rework Government.” The New York Times, 11 June 2008. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/11/world/asia/11korea.html (21 June 2008).
• Ilbo, Dong-A. “Korean Leader Considers Ways to Rework Government.” The New York Times, 11 June 2008. http://www.nytimes.com/imagepages/2008/06/11/world/11korea.inline1.ready.html (21 June 2008).

Feliz Cinco de Mayo! For the celebration of Mexico’s triumph over the French troops at the Battle of Puebla (don’t worry, the poor frogs weren’t really stampeded by cattle, haha!) I have decided to make a delicious, all American food: Guacamole!

Two days ago, at a rather absurd and expensive party on the NorthSide, I was talking with catering chef Greg ’bout guac. I’ve always had it in my little head that avocados require beaucoup fric ($$$) to acquire, which is why I don’t buy them. In most cases this holds true: the devil Whole Foods, the wonderful but misguided East End Food Co-op, the pedestrian Giant Eagle, etc. are all about swindling - à la Rumpelstiltskin - the everyday shopper. According to Greg, the ever-pragmatic ShurSave - a local supermarket chain with a location within spitting distance of my humble abode - has them for cheap. He was right! On 4 May 2008 I got four for less than four dollars… holler!

This here recipe is “adapted” from Heidi Swanson’s Indian Curry & Cumin Guacamole. I say adapted in quotes because after stripping down Swanson’s recipe, I find that it served only as a very loose base for my own. (However, be sure to read her recipe for tips on recognizing ripe v. overripe avocados. I found it very useful, and was delighted by the condition of my purchase.)

:: Guacamole ::

1 small white onion
1 clove garlic, minced
4 avocados
2 large, firm tomatoes
1 lime
cilantro to taste
salt to taste

1. Chop the onion. Scoop out the avocado flesh, trying to keep it as intact as possible. Throw them, with the garlic, in a bowl.
2. Cut the tomatoes into quarters and remove the central part (the stem’s axis) like you would when cutting apples. Scoop the tomatoes’ pulpy interior out, then chop. (Removing the sloppy interior keeps the guacamole from becoming too wet and salsa-y.)
3. Chop the cilantro. I like to use about 1/2 cup (unpacked).
4. Squeeze the lime and splash the ingredients with its juice. Sprinkle a bit of salt on top.
5. Stir, but be sure not to purée the mixture (unless you prefer it that way).
6. Give it a taste. If it needs more lime juice or salt, add it in now and finish it off with a final stir.
7. Serve, at room temperature or chilled, with tortilla chips.

The resulting guacamole was stellar–easily some of the freshest and best I’ve had. (Although I used pre-minced jar garlic. Lazy!) I whipped up another batch for a photo shoot. I used a red instead of white onion, lemon juice instead of lime, and unfortunately had no more cilantro to toss in. (I’d stick with the original recipe, in terms of taste.) So much guac; what to do with it all?!

:: Bibliography ::

• Swanson, Heidi. A Twist on Guacamole Recipe. 101 Cookbooks. http://www.101cookbooks.com/archives/a-twist-on-guacamole-recipe.html (5 May 2008).

I can’t stop thinking about fair weather, cycling, applying for jobs, ALA in Anaheim, and moving away from Pittsburgh. Not that I’m down on Pittsburgh–just ready for an adventure. (Or, if need be, a misadventure!) Nick called his desire to constantly move wanderlust. I, on the other hand, have always felt a dialectic need for and need to tear myself away from the familiar, the routine. It’s plagued me these past few years, having always found reasons to come back to or stay in Pittsburgh.

I’ve also realized that I am leading a life without music. (Not really, actually. It just feels like it.) Before the ‘pod broke, during my long walks - and occasionally bicycle rides (I know, unsafe!) - I would immerse myself in tunes nouveau and old. I think it’s time to make a financially unsound decision and get another.

This approximate recipe, which I gleaned from the gray, wet recipe book my Mom (pictured) calls a brain, sums up the amazing summer and early fall I had last year. I am resolved that it will be the last of my staple recipes that I post. From here on out, everything will be neuf.

:: Rene’s Vegan Bruschetta ::

Tomatoes
Onions (white)
Olive oil
Salt and Pepper
Basil
Oregano
Garlic (minced)

Directions are simple: Chop the tomatoes and onions and then throw everything in a bowl using amounts that suit your palate. Serve atop rounds of freshly toasted bread (baguette for a snack/appetizer, or something larger for a main course). You may want to brush the rounds with olive oil or put butter on them (if you’re not concerned about dietary restrictions).

Things to consider:

• If you find that this recipe yields bruschetta that’s too wet, remove and discard some (or all) of the tomatoes’ pulpy interiors.
• The type of tomato used can change how this recipe tastes dramatically.
• If you over-spice or put in too much olive oil, just add more tomato until things even out.
• If you have a few “problem” tomatoes (disappointing in taste or color, only edible in part, not exactly at the peak of ripeness, etc.) you can hide them rather wonderfully in this recipe.

I have battled with hummus recipes since long before I acquired a food processor. Without even a mortar and pestle, I would toil over a mess of mashed chick peas –attempting to transmogrify them into something palatable (if not delicious). You name it, I tried it: Different brands, methodologies, recipes, etc. One of my potluck efforts (the hummus and veggie squares) was very nearly undermined by disastrous hummus efforts. So when Erin over at Paper Rose Designs sent her own recipe my way, I was excited but skeptical.

I knew after the first pulse of my Cuisinart that the recipe was perfect. My hummus was too dry; I was skimping on olive oil/tahini, water, and lemon juice. And to my delight, I found that this recipe is infinitely adaptable. Want something a bit more spreadable? More water and lemon juice. Prefer the taste of olive oil to tahini? Go ahead and substitute or fiddle with the ratio of the two. Tweak the recipe to your taste. I can’t wait to try black bean hummus (at Andy’s suggestion) and locate the strange bread product in the Moroccan hummus that Usman told me about.

:: Erin’s Adventure Hummus ::

5 cloves garlic (2 cloves if using elephant garlic)
1/4 cup lemon juice
1 14-oz. can of chickpeas, drained
1/4 cup water
1/2 cup tahini
1 teaspoon salt
cumin and parsley to taste

1. Blend in a food processor.

2. Refrigerate before serving.

I use minced garlic in the jar, more lemon juice, and put in a bit of the lemon’s pulp (thinking about zest, instead). Erin suggests using the chickpea liquid rather than water, but I prefer the lighter taste that water achieves. If you’d like the hummus to look fancy, serve it on a flat plate, garnish it with fresh parsley and cumin (rather than blending it in), and top with a bit of olive oil. The Middle Eastern restaurant that I swore off a few months ago put some delicious pickles atop their hummus plate. If you know what kind of pickle they are, let me know! (I may have to do some reconnaissance work.)

There’s nothing quite like refining a recipe you already know and love. It’s the same type of pleasure that you get after crafting a masterful sentence. The recipe for Confetti Bites (known in my household as “Veggie Pizza”) is delicious. However, I found myself constantly thinking about what I could change to make it healthier.

I recently took my highly edited version of this recipe to a potluck, and although it didn’t stand out among the many excellent dishes, everyone was well pleased. (I had to compete against homemade pasta and cheesecake! Gone are the simple days when my culinary skills wowed the entirety of the Stacks department.)

:: Hummus and veggie squares ::

1 Container garlic hummus
2 Eight ounce packages of refrigerated crescent rolls
Salad Supreme
Basil
Chopped vegetables (carrots, red peppers, broccoli, cauliflower)

1. Press the contents of each crescent roll package onto a 15×10x1″ baking sheet to form crust. (No need to grease the sheet.)
2. Bake in a 350° F oven for 12-15 min. (They burn easily. Be vigilant.)
3. Spread hummus over the cooled crust.
4. Top with: Salad Supreme, basil, chopped vegetables.

I used Tribe brand hummus, but I think a more finely puréed one, such as Sabra, might taste better. (I had tried to make my own, but alas, it wasn’t very good.) It may also be advisable to experiment with a plain or flavored hummus if you plan on changing the vegetables. I chose these based on color, then taste. Other flavors may require a slightly different spread.

In the future, I’m going to try mushing the crescent roll dough into a ball and rolling it out. Hopefully this will prevent the final crust from breaking along the dough’s original perforated lines (despite my efforts to blend the dough into one mass on the sheet).

Note: Salad Supreme (and most likely the crescent roll dough) is not vegan; it contains Romano cheese. To create a vegan substitute mix: salt, sesame seeds, poppy seeds, paprika, celery seeds, garlic powder, black pepper, and red pepper. (You’re on your own when it comes to making a vegan crust!)

Having recently sworn off my favorite Middle Eastern restaurant, I thought it was about time to rev up my fancy new Cuisinart for another misadventure. Two eggplants and a lemon later, I was ready to embark on some culinary Orientalism. (According to Liz, I was caught on film returning from the store à vélo.) Not knowing where to look for rockin’ recipes - dearest kittee didn’t have anything on her website or blog and I have not yet signed up for Epicurious - I settled on an ingredient list from [the internet?] and a methodology supplied by my Food Network arch-nemesis: Rachael Ray.

:: Baba ghanoush ::

1 eggplant
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons sesame tahini
2 tablespoons fresh basil
1 (4 ounce) can green chili peppers
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 pinch ground cumin
1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
salt and pepper to taste

1. Preheat the oven to 400°F. Prick the eggplants all over with a fork and place on a baking sheet.

2. Bake, flipping once, until skin shrivels and flesh softens, about 35 minutes. Let cool, about a half-hour or so. Remove and discard the stems and skin. Cut eggplant into large chunks and drain any excess liquid.

3. Using a food processor, puree the eggplant, parsley, lemon juice, tahini, garlic, chili peppers, and olive oil. Season with salt and pepper and add more lemon juice to taste.

4. Transfer the baba ghanoush to another container and refrigerate.

Yeah, so I didn’t really follow the measures all that faithfully. I cut down on the amount of olive oil and tahini, eyeballed the spices using the cheap dry stuff, refused to add any salt, and doubled the eggplant. I also didn’t let it cool, because it was easier to get the skin off the piping hot eggplants.

Despite this, it turned out very nice. I was a bit heavy handed with the cumin, but other than that it tasted rather good.

Post script: I recently made Lisa’s sweet and spicy nuts and chocolate chip cookies without the chocolate chips. (I put a few walnuts on some instead of adding chips.) Because neither recipe resulted in a gastronomic cataclysm, they have been omitted from this cycle of recipes.

:: Bibliography ::

“Car Crimes Reported In Pittsburgh Neighborhood“. 4 February 2008. WPXI. Accessed 4 February 2008. <http://www.wpxi.com/news/15218029/detail.html>.

Pearson, Liz. Baba Ghanoush recipe - Every Day with Rachael Ray. June 2007. The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc. Accessed 4 February 2008. <http://www.rachaelraymag.com/recipes/appetizer-side-dish-recipes/baba-ghanoush/article.html>.

What is this!? Pace yourself, man! Not too many recipes at once! Actually, I plan on adding recipes as I make them. Just makes the most sense. So. What is obscene about this pizza dough? Well, it never turns out the same twice. Not ever! That makes it obscenely dynamic and interesting. But the results are always scrumptious, even when I put so many spices on that it tanks my sisters’ stomaches.

:: Jen and Kate’s Mystery Pizza Dough ::

2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (or just a package, if you don’t feel like measuring)
1/2 teaspoon brown sugar (or cane sugar)
1 1/2 cups warm water
1 teaspoon salt (I use less)
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 1/3 cups flour

1. In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast and brown sugar in the water, and let sit for 10 minutes. (If the water it too hot or too cold the yeast won’t metabolize the sugar, so be careful.)

2. Stir the salt and oil into the yeast solution. Mix in 2 1/2 cups of the flour. (Use any type of flour you want. I have had excellent results with all-purpose, unbleached, whole-wheat, and even graham flour.) Add spices to the dough if you’re feeling bold and forward!

3. Turn the dough out onto a clean, well floured surface and knead in a bit more flour until the dough is no longer sticky. Place the dough into a bowl sprayed with non-stick cooking spray and cover with a cloth. Let the dough rise approximately one hour. (A warm and humid place is best. Try putting it on top of the stove as the oven preheats.)

4. Top with your favorite pizza sauce and fixings. This recipe should make two substantial pizzas. (I like to use meatless spaghetti sauce that’s low in sodium. As for fixings, experiment. One of my favorite combinations is white onion and chick peas!)

4. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit/220 degrees Celsius. If you are using a pan/baking sheet rather than a pizza stone, be sure to spray it with non-stick cooking spray. Bake the pizza until the cheese and crust are done to your liking (about 15 to 20 minutes).

I have cut a lot of the useless, time-wasting steps out of this recipe. (I like to keep things simple, but not in a reductive way–like Bush’s State of the Union a few hours ago. Although, I did like the way he spit out the second part of this sentence: “If we fail to pass this agreement, we will embolden the purveyors of false populism in our hemisphere.”)

But yeah, that hour for the dough to rise still turns some people’s screws. I find it easy to deal with, especially if you have the foresight to plan your evening. (“Company at the door? Why, I just happen to have pizza dough ready to be garnished and consumed!”) Also, if your friends are over, enlist their help in making the dough first, then socialize, then complete the recipe and feast.

:: Bibliography ::

Jen probably got this sucker from the internet. Everyone’s taking credit for it, look.