More Omelette Adventures and Some Cooking Not From Julia's Kitchen

Omelette Update: Omelettes are a conquest, to be certain. After much grumbling, I decided to use new, thinner aluminum pan after my brother washed ole faithful. I've made a lot of progress in that I can successfully flip the omelette several times without spilling (much). But I seem to have a problem cooking the damn thing all the way through. If I have to gag down runny whites one more time, I will scream.

This morning, in an attempt to avoid death by salmonella, I let the 'formed' omelette (I use that term loosely; my omelettes are far from formed) sit in the pan for 10 seconds instead of 5. This resulted in a crispy brown surface and a less than fluffy texture. Very un-JC. But my quest will continue tomorrow. And every morning afterward until I can no long eat eggs.

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In other news, I made my first white sauce and ate my first Spaghetti Squash. If you're never eaten spaghetti squash before, it is beyond bizarre. The squash goes in the oven for 1 hour, then is cut in half and scraped out into a bowl. The fibers in the squash break apart into long, yellow strands that resemble spaghetti in shape, but nothing else. Their taste is curious; I still can't get my head around it. Light and buttery, but almost nutty. And the texture... I imagine it must be similar to putting a series of extremely tender, fibrous twigs in your mouth.

I didn't really feel like the bechamel worked with the squash, but it would have been lovely in a veggie lasanga. The recipe called for mushroom juices (?.?), which my confused brain decided to interpret as mushrooms blended in the food processor. The concept actually worked out quite nicely, though I'm not sure what JC would have said. And I'm in love with bechamel sauces now. (go figure, it's made with butter and milk) I would have eaten it as a soup.

Which speaking of soups, my lentil soup was not as much of a disaster as I though it would be. (Amen) I was worried about wolfing that green gloop down all by myself.

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Next on the JC side of things: Quiche

On the non-JC side, Hummus. Every vegetarian should have a kick-ass hummus recipe.

L'omelette nature: 2 egg Omelette Craziness

I should have known that a dish with such a short ingredient list (eggs, butter, salt, and pepper) would require extensive attention to the aspects of cooking to which I don't pay any heed. Namely, equipment.

After a picturesque story of the first time she tried  a French Omelette, Julia delves into a lengthy examination of the perfect omelette pan. The perfect Omelette pan is 7- 7 1/2 inches. Nothing else will do. Next, what material is your pan made out of? The hell. If I. Know.

I do know that the only pan in my kitchen that fits those measurements is a worn-out veteran. It has definitely seen better days. In the center, you can see the impression of two soy sausage patties long ago devoured. The teflon coating is flaking off around the corners. Still, this ole boy is my only chance at omelette perfection.

Julia says turn the stove on high and stick the butter in the pan. I turn the stove on high and start cracking and beating the eggs. After about a minute or so, I see ole boy is starting to smoke. Shit. Forgot the butter.

In goes the butter, but after 10 seconds have passed, it has gone from melting, to foaming, to browning, to... what is that rusty color? Butter doesn't turn red. I give the pan a swirl. Yup, that's the uncoated surfaces of the pan rusting into my butter. Out goes the butter. I wipe the pan down with olive oil as instructed.

Damn, didn't even get to add the egg.

Round Two: This time, I add the butter before the heat and things turn out alright. I avoid butter-rust and turn out a decent looking mess of egg. It may not look pretty, but it is fluffy and delicious. After eating it, I try to clean up the egg I spilled all over the stove.

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Round Three (One day later): Butter-rust again. Curses. AND I didn't notice it until after I added the egg. That's 2 would-be chickens sacrificed to the almighty JC. (But at least the omelette looked fluffy!)

Round Four: Moderate success. One bit was not entirely cooked. And I have a metallic taste in my mouth. But other than that, fluffy, buttery deliciousness.

PS: I found a different pan without exposed iron. That means it's time for round five. I'm going to be eating eggs for a week.

Cheese Croquettes (Fried Cheese Custard Balls) & Lentils: Take 2

Both Success and possible failure today. I made Cheese Croquettes for the second time today. The first time, when Julia instructed me to stir flour  and milk over heat until it was thick, I didn't take her seriously enough. I ended up trying to fry gloopy white paste that was more flour than cheese. Tasted... well, not bad, but it was terrible to work with. I got frustrated and threw it out.

Then today, I stuck it out under the heat. That milk and flour could not have been thicker. I was so happy that I forgot to check out the seasoning before rolling them up into adorable little balls to fry. Something was off. But the breading was perfect. (Thank you, Alton Brown, for telling me of the wonders of Panko bread crumbs.)

Things to try next time: Regular Swiss instead of Baby Swiss, more salt, smaller balls.

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Now, Lentil Soup. Some successes, some disappointments. To be fair, I haven't tastes it hot yet, but I was not a fan of the smell. Not at all. Serves me right for being distracted by hummus and not reading the recipe. Apparently my soup pan is not the proper size for browning that amount of vegetables, which explains why I haven't had any success with the "light browning" of the base vegetables. Also, I added 1 cup of diced turnip instead of 1/3 of a cup... and I added the turnip in with the other vegetables instead of with the lentils...

But I compensated for lack of a food mill by food-processing the shit out of those little buggers. Texture? Win. I am pleased. Taste will stand judgement tomorrow.

Notes for perfection: Fix that shit with the turnips. Fresh thyme? Go back to brown lentils. Those green french ones that were a dollar more a pound were not an improvement.

I saw a muffin in fridge. Think I might have to skip to the dessert section.

Potage Purée de lentilles (Lentil Soup with a Fancy Name)

Something I have learned as of yesterday: Those stringy fibrous bits on the back of celery don't belong in a purée. Either that, or my mother's immersion blender is not capable of wrestling with those ropes of cellulose.

Speaking of the immersion blender, I'm starting to wonder if Julia would approve- all of her recipes call for a food mill. What is a food mill?*

The soup was good though, better than any lentils I've ventured to try before. Which is good, because I need all the protein I can get. But it was definitely missing something... maybe it was the optional turnip Julia mentioned? Maybe it was the 3-year-old thyme in the back of the cupboard? Or maybe it was the stringy texture... Either way, I will be adventuring in lentil soup land again until my taste buds sing like they did for Potage Parmentier.




*Note: Google tells me that a food mill is a sort of torture device for cooked vegetables. It probably would have removed my celery strings. But should I buy one? Or just remove the strings... Think I'll be sticking with the latter option, even though it is tempting to shell out $40 on a stainless steal soup filter.

Warning: This has been done before

Did you watch the movie Julie & Julia? It was cute. I liked it a lot.

I'm on a similar mission, with a few alternations.

Armed with my mother's copy of From Julia's Kitchen, I'm going to spend this summer letting Julia teach me how to cook. Except, I'm going to skip over half the recipes because I don't meat. I'm hoping that tweak will make my cooking adventure more complete-able.

I have my misgivings about this whole blogging thing, though. It has always seemed silly to me. Yet, here I am, at my lap-top, dying to write about this Potage Parmentier (Potato and Leek Soup) I made yesterday. It literally made my toes tingle. I though people said that as a figure of speech, but really, my mouth was in ecstasy. I don't think it had ever realized that food was supposed to taste that good.

I had another bowl of it a couple minutes ago. I'm still floored.