Baked Orzo

Here’s a recipe that we tried for the first time last night. I got it off Food Network's “Everyday Italian.” Here’s a link to the recipe online. It was a hearty pasta dish that was made interesting by peas and mushrooms. NOTE: Next time, I’ll probably double the amount of mushrooms because they really make the dish. If you do that, I assume you’d have to adjust the butter and Marsala wine accordingly. Also, it calls for fresh mozzarella and fontina cheeses. Doubtless, it would be better that way, but groceries are wicked expensive right now, and this being my first time with this recipe, I opted for the substantially cheaper Italian blend of shredded cheeses. If I were making this for company, I’d definitely get the better cheese.

Baked Orzo with Fontina and Peas

4 cups chicken broth
1 pound orzo pasta
3 tablespoons butter, plus more to grease the baking dish
1 onion, chopped
8 ounces mushrooms, sliced
1 cup Marsala wine
1/2 cup heavy cream
4 ounces shredded fontina cheese (about 1 cup)
4 ounces diced fresh mozzarella cheese (about 1 cup)
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup bread crumbs
1/4 cup grated Parmesan
1 teaspoon dried thyme
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Butter a 9 by 13-inch baking dish. Bring the chicken broth to a boil over medium-high heat in a medium saucepan. Add the orzo and cook until almost tender, about 7 minutes. Pour the orzo and the broth into a large bowl. Set aside. Meanwhile, melt the butter over medium heat in a medium skillet. Add the onions and sauté until tender, about 3 minutes. Add the mushrooms and continue to saute until the mushrooms are beginning to turn golden around the edges, about 7 minutes. Add the Marsala. Scrape the brown bits off the bottom of the pan and cook until the Marsala has reduced by half, about 5 minutes. Add the mushroom mixture to the orzo in the large bowl. Add the cream, fontina, mozzarella, peas, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine. Pour the mixture into the prepared baking dish. In a small bowl combine the bread crumbs, Parmesan, and dried thyme. Sprinkle the bread crumb mixture on top of the pasta. Bake until golden, about 25 minutes. Enjoy.

I am about to begin cooking and freezing meals for Michael and me to eat after the baby comes. If I don't do this, the temptation to just order pizza or run out for fast food will be too overwhelming. Even with a store of healthy meals, there will probably be a lot of fast food consumed. So if anyone has any recipes, cookbooks, or websites that contain freezer-friendly recipes, I'd appreciate the suggestion. You know what that means: It's time to pull out those casserole recipes. Thanks.

The joy of cooking?

I have something of a love/hate relationship with cooking. I absolutely loathe the regular weeknight drudgery of meal preparation, but I love planning meals, searching out recipes, and cooking for special occasions. I suppose it's fair to say that I enjoy the cerebral aspects of cooking far more than the practical. You can't coat your kitchen in flour by just researching the perfect recipe. I'm fairly certain I have never met the perfect recipe; rather, I have never met a recipe I didn't tinker with in some manner. I just can't help myself. Double the amount of cinnamon? Why not? Maybe this would be better with mushrooms? Sure.
I was raised to view cooking as a chore, something one did because it had to be done. The idea of finding enjoyment from the exercise would have been a foreign concept to my mother and my aunts. Mom once told me that the greatest gift she ever gave me was not teaching me to cook. But as I got older, I began to view the kitchen as a mystical realm where ingredients were stirred together and became something else entirely by the simple addition of heat. It was spell casting at its finest, and I wanted to learn to do it. Keep in mind, I had very little to work with. In my house as a kid, vegetables came from a can, spices were dried and never thrown out, and Crisco was a staple.
I doubt I am the only thirty-something who embarked on a cooking journey hampered by these preconceived ideas. Because of this, I am profoundly grateful to the Food Network. Say what you will about Rachael Ray with her "Delish" and "Yummo," but she makes meals for the masses, and uses simple, fresh ingredients. I must admit, she got on my nerves in the beginning, but she's grown on me. Rachael doesn't tell you to peal a pound of potatoes, and then edit so that in the next frame, a perfect pile of pealed potatoes (Say that three times fast) is sitting in front of her. Sure, her recipes take me longer than thirty minutes to make, but I bet I can groom a Labrador or knit a scarf faster than she can. It's all about your experience. Most of the Food Network hosts present down-to-earth recipes designed to Alay the fears of the novice. Let me just say that my admiration stops at Semi-Homemade. No, Sandra Lee, you cannot add Shake 'N Bake to everything and it turn out wonderful. I ain't buying it. I don't care how "super simple" it is. Paula Deen is another one of my favorites, but I recently saw Paula make "ox tails" so I'm having to rethink her.
I don't ask a lot from my kitchen. I want hearty, filling meals when it's cold outside and light, refreshing fair during the summer. I am not likely to challenge myself far beyond my culinary limits, but I have managed to find the enjoyment of cooking, mainly on leisurely Sundays when Michael and I can be in the kitchen together. He's way better than me with a knife or hot skillet, and we all rest easier that way. One of my favorite things is to find a recipe, tinker with it, and have Michael say that it goes in our keeper pile.
My best friend, Molly, has a food blog called a Year in the Kitchen. Molly's kitchen year would look vastly different from mine. She isn't daunted by ingredients that put up a fight or narrow margins of error. Check her out for a real ode to food.

Gobble Gobble

I like a lot of traditional Thanksgiving foods. I realized from reading Molly's and Trina's blogs that I might be in the minority on that one. I'm making a turkey. I am a vegetarian, but since I'm preggers, I've been relaxing on that lately. At this point, I'll eat anything that doesn't make me sick. Also, my mother cannot cook a turkey. Well, bless her heart, there is a lot that my mother can't cook, but turkey ranks at the top of the list. I cook my turkey with cinnamon, ginger, apples, oranges, and butter. Knock on wood-- it usually turns out moist and flavorful. One of the few things Mom can make is dressing, so she'll be bringing that along with her hot potato salad. Michael cannot abide a Thanksgiving without mashed potatoes, so he'll be making those. We will also be contributing glazed carrots and a broccoli casserole. The broccoli casserole, if not a uniquely Southern thing is a typical Southern thing. Every casserole constructed in the South contains a can of cream of mushroom soup, a lot of butter and cheese, and Ritz crackers. It might even be a law. Had I not been raised on such fare, I might turn my nose up at it, but as it is, my family has designated me the official broccoli casserole fixer. For Christmas, Thanksgiving, picnics, whatever-- I'm expected to show up with a broccoli casserole. For dessert, Mom is bringing a banana pudding and I'm making a pumpkin cheesecake. Somehow, something chocolate will find its way onto the table. It always does. This is a very traditional meal, but Michael and I do need a little variety, so we're making sausage balls and hot artichoke and sundried tomato dip, and this will likely be our favorite part of the meal. Sausage balls, in case you don't know, are a construction of spicy pork sausage, sharp cheddar cheese, and Bisquik, rolled into acorn-sized balls. Molly thinks "sausage balls" sound like a porcine version of mountain oysters, so we're trying to think of an alternate name. Sausage poppers anybody? Southern pork circles?
Oh, and one more thing. Ginger has long been a home remedy for pregnancy sickness, and I find that it works better than anything, so I'll be munching on bits of candied ginger throughout the day.
On Black Friday, Michael and I will do nothing. We'll lie around watching TV and movies, and I'll knit on a pair of socks that have been languishing since last November. We do not shop on the weekend after Thanksgiving. It's our way of protesting our culture of consumerism. It's a small statement, but it's important to us. Inevitably, news reports on Monday will say how this year's after-Thanksgiving sales figures were lower than expected. They say that every year, and here's why: The people who make the projections are greedy bastards! A 100% profit just isn't enough for them. Cry me a river, assholes.
The true origins of Thanksgiving are lost, hidden, and/or twisted to suit multiple agendas. This is true of most holidays. For my part, I like Thanksgiving, which is perhaps strange coming from someone with a strong Native American heritage, but I am in favor of continuing and honoring traditions that bring families together, give us a day off work, and encourage individuals to be grateful for the things they have, if only for one day. Regardless of how or to whom you give thanks, or how you choose to observe or ignore Thanksgiving, I wish you health and abundance.