July 26, 2013
Well, it's several different things. The first is merely a matter of being cheap. Just as in summers past, our house has expanded to contain guests. Not Lotus this time, but Grasshopper, his girlfriend, and a pirate. Potatoes go a long way, and this is Idaho, after all. We always have them on hand, even more so than other staples like rice and beans. We've eaten them baked, fried, mashed, and a soup only continues the progression. The second thing is that we were gifted a bunch of fresh dill by my mother-in-law. Our first instinct was to pair the fresh dill with fresh fish, but then our minds returned to the first point. I still wanted a classic pairing, and dill and potatoes go quite nicely together. Finally, and perhaps most importantly in the setting I've described, this soup doesn't require the use of the oven. Just one burner on the stove, and only for half an hour. It might not be actively cool like a gazpacho or raw food, but it seemed like a good plan for feeding six people on a budget on a hot day.
I started by roughly chopping six large potatoes. I don't ever peel potatoes--most of the nutrients are in the peel, and their texture doesn't bother me, even in mashed potatoes--but be sure to give them a good scrubbing before cooking to get all the dirt off. This went into a stock pot along with a large onion and two celery stalks, also roughly chopped, a head of garlic (peeled and crushed), a quarter cup of finely minced fresh dill, 1/4 cup of butter, five cups of chicken or vegetable stock, and salt and pepper to taste. Bring to a boil, then simmer until the potatoes are tender, about forty minutes.
Once the potatoes are done add twelve ounces of evaporated milk along with two tablespoons of lemon juice and two tablespoons of olive oil, adjust your seasonings to taste, and puree the soup in batches in a blender or, if you're lucky enough to have one, blend it with an immersion blender. Divide the soup into six bowls and top each with a teaspoon of minced fresh dill and a quarter cup of thinly sliced smoked salmon. I didn't have any on hand, but if you don't want to use the salmon or want to be especially decadent, you could also add homemade croutons of rye bread. So there you have it, a simple potato soup--perhaps out of place in the middle of summer, but truly worth eating when you are trying to save time, money, and effort.
July 22, 2013
It isn't often anymore that I get to just go out for a few drinks. The children are at that awkward age where they can't really spend the night at home by themselves, but babysitting them consists of more than watching a Disney movie and putting them to bed at 8. Besides, I've always been what you could call "frugal," if you wanted to be kind. Drinking in public doesn't make good economic sense, and before you point out that the same could be said of dining, I have to say they don't have the same level of upside. But I am always tempted to make an exception for craft beer, and when the purveyors of that beer also make an appeal to my frugality? Consider me sold.
That's exactly what happened last week with the Kilted Dragon Brewery (9115 West Chinden Blvd, Garden City, Idaho 208-254-2012). They had "kegs to blow." They needed a place to put their newly brewed beer, but several kegs were sitting around almost but not quite empty. The solution was a sale, announced through Facebook, Twitter, and probably other outlets as well. Two dollar pints and eight dollar growler fills of the selected beers. I'd never tried Kilted Dragon before, so despite my cold I called up my best friend and we made a plan to meet up after work. He lives just up the hill from their shop, and he'd been trying for months to convince me to go. I arrived first, and since it was still pretty empty, I was able to get my pick of tables, which was nice considering that the large windows on the western wall were letting in a searing block of sunlight. I hid in the shade and started with what I considered to be the safest bet, the Knuckle Dragger Porter. It was everything I hoped for and more. Rich, malty, and strong, it almost derailed this blog post. I knew I had enough money to try one of
|Not so much a bar as a brewery with a tasting area, you can see|
behind the curtain as you drink.
After that, it was time to try the Bonnie Heather Amber. This was a pleasant beer, and seemed ideal for drinking in mass quantities. It had a crisp finish that seemed to taunt the heat of the outdoors.
The last of the beers being featured that day was the Highland Honey Blonde (the Frost Bridge Scottish Ale was drained before I arrived, and I arrived early, which must be a testament to that particular brew's quality). It was a tasty beer, and while it seemed to lack the alcohol punch of the others, one thing really stood out to me. Lots of beers profess flavorings, but never have I seen one so honest. Every drop of the Blonde resonated with the taste of honey. While I'll stick with the Porter if I'm looking to get drunk, little bells went off in my head while drinking this beer, and you shouldn't be surprised if you see a dessert recipe pop up with this sweet drink as a star ingredient.
While the Porter was the star of the sale, my favorite beer that I got to try was the one I had last. It was almost time for our party to disband; several of our number were already gone. I'd bought all the beer I'd planned to buy, and my wife was on her way to retrieve me. But I still had an empty glass in front of me, so my friend slipped up to the bar and got a pint of Hand & a Half Stout for us to split. What a wonderful beer. It was chocolaty and thick, just thoroughly delicious with a roasted accent (what I'd later learn was Sumatran coffee) and a bit of spice in the background as well. At the last beer festival I went to, I got to try some mole beers, and there was a similar element to Hand & a Half, but while those beers were good (well, some of them), they were a bit heavy handed in getting across their mole theme. With no promise of heat on the label, Hand & a Half was allowed to be subtle, and the balance was just right. I can guarantee that at the end of August when it's time for my birthday and the question comes up of what I'd like to get snockered on before going to see "World's End," I'm going to go and get myself a growler of Hand & a Half.
I've talked at length about the beer--with good reason, as it's the star of the show--but perhaps a few words about the establishment itself are in order. Kilted Dragon is a small tap house, but it is arranged in a very open manner, and I always felt comfortable, even as it started to get busy. Everything is clean and comfortable. Better yet, they have shuffleboard! One of my favorite bars used to be the Iron Gate, which was located in the University Inn on the corner of Boise State's campus, but that lovely institution was bulldozed in the name of progress, the place where I spent my wedding night now an economics building. Every time I went there, I'd spend hours playing shuffleboard. I decided to keep my cold to myself and not touch it this time around, but seeing the beautiful table in the corner of Kilted Dragon is a selling point that will help keep me coming back. Another would be their dedication to entertainment. We happened to be there on a quiet night, but the Kilted Dragon's event page is filled with bands, food trucks, and more. This is important, because it helps to offset the one negative I have to say about the Dragon. It's location stinks. Maybe not in the affordable rent department, and I understand that's pretty damn important, but as for coming in on a regular basis for drinks? It isn't really close to any major neighborhood, so walking there isn't an option (though it's not too terribly far from the Greenbelt by bike). More importantly, there isn't a whole lot going on as far as neighbors are concerned. There are no restaurants, no theaters, nothing but a Wonder Bread outlet store, a gym, the Garden City DMV, and a gas station. If you wanted something to do while you sobered up, or something to keep your DD entertained, it's not there. I credit the owners for realizing this and making the effort to import those things to do and eat, as it is sorely needed. Maybe eventually they will expand to a more formal pub and eatery like another up-and-coming Garden City brewery, Crooked Fence, just did, but in the mean time it is good to see they are aware of their handicap and actively working to mitigate it. Speaking of the owners, they were both on site during my visit, and the one who wasn't busy brewing was out being social and greeting guests, even challenging them to shuffleboard. That's nice, and adds to this community feeling that is seeming to develop in the "new" Garden City (maybe it's even time to begin retiring some of my meth jokes). Despite being off the main drag, the Kilted Dragon is well worth your business if you like good beer.
UPDATE: It's not often that a little guy like Catfish's Dishes gets a scoop, but the kind folks at Kilted Dragon liked my review and decided to pass along a bit of insider information. The sale I attended is about to become a regular thing! Every Wednesday they'll be having keg blowouts, with $2 pints and $8 growler fills. So now you don't have to wait for some magical sale to find out that what I've been telling you is true, just drop in on a Wednesday and you'll get to try this great beer on the cheap.
July 12, 2013
I questioned whether or not to lump this under the "Other People's Recipes" banner, as it was greatly inspired by this recipe that I found on the internet. I wasn't seeking an orange chicken recipe that emulated Panda Express, but it seemed to be quite popular. Not only did it show up at the top of the search engine results when I began exploring what goes into orange chicken, but most other faux-Panda recipes seemed to emulate this one. It was a great place to start. The flavor profile was excellent. But not immune to changes, and more importantly; despite the high notes the recipe was hitting, it is terribly written.
The first thing you're going to want to do is make your orange sauce. In a small bowl, mix together 5 tablespoons each of sugar and white vinegar, 1 1/2 tablespoons each of soy sauce and orange juice, and a tablespoon of orange zest. Set the sauce aside.
|Trysta is always eager to help in the kitchen.|
Once you have our mise en place, you can make your batter for the tofu. Everything comes together pretty quickly at this point. Mix together an egg with two teaspoons of salt and some freshly ground pepper.
Now stir in a half a cup of cornstarch and a quarter cup of flour. This will get really lumpy and hard to stir. The recipe I am modifying leaves you at this point, with unworkable clumps of nothing. The commentary on that site showed me that a lot of people decided it worked better mixing the flour and cornstarch separately of the egg mix and dredging them that way, but that's not what we're going to do here....this lumpy mix is still perfectly usable, it just needs a bit of liquid love.
Stir in liquid until the lumps gain the consistency of a thick pancake batter (about half a cup of liquid). You can just use water, but I wanted something that complemented the orange flavor without being overwhelming, and used the juice of a freshly squeezed grapefruit (hence the pink chunks in the picture above).
Heat vegetable oil in a pan, deep enough to cover a piece of tofu, to medium-high heat. Once the oil begins to bubble, cook the tofu in batches--my twelve inch cast iron was able to fit them in four groups--so that they brown evenly, don't clump together, and don't cool the oil too rapidly (which will cause them to get logged with oil).
As you begin frying your first batch of tofu, you'll want to get two more skillets going over medium with just a tiny bit of oil to keep things from sticking--I simply used cooking spray, or you could use a non-stick pan if that sort of thing doesn't bother you.
Meanwhile, you should have a pretty good pile of golden brown tofu bites. Drain them on a paper towel, then toss them in the orange sauce until each piece is thoroughly coated. Put the tofu and vegetables on the rice and top with the green part of the green onion, sliced thinly. Makes six large portions.