Some one asked me recently if I knew any good, inexpensive recipes.
She’s asking the wrong person. I watch Gordon Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares because I’m interested in problem solving, not food. (Besides, ol' Gordon's kind of cute.)
My level of cooking is anything but sophisticated. I make this claim because every time I pick up a newly published cookbook and read the ingredients list, I either don’t have the faintest idea what the listed items are, or they’re so expensive it would be cheaper to just haul myself down to the nearest bistro and enjoy a night out. Mushrooms must always be Shitaake or Portobello. (Portabello? The mushrooms that come in big slabs.) Ka-ching. Salt must always be sea salt. Ka-ching. You have to use herbs that I’ve never heard of and they must always be fresh, (at $4 per oz.) The cheese must always be from the milk of Alpine-pastured, rare-species goats, KA CHING! And what the hell is arugula? Arugala? (Okay, I don't know how to spell any of this stuff.)
There’s a antique mall near where I live and I like to go in and browse. Every once in a while I’ll pick up a fifty-year old cook book and find ingredients like: potatoes, carrots, lettuce, mushrooms, butter, flour, celery, roast beef, and for those who like to live life to the fullest, a “dash” of wine. Oo-la-la! I always find myself remembering that Mom fed me this kind of food and—this may just be nostalgia for a fairly pleasant childhood—it tasted pretty darn good.
I suppose one could take these recipes and update them a bit, substituting trans-fat free oil for lard, for example, to see if that works. (My friend who loves to cook informs me that it wouldn’t.) I’ve just never bothered. I’m the kind of person who just makes things up as she goes, and if I eat it and it tastes good and I’m still alive the next morning, I do my best to remember what I threw into the pot the night before. So I can do it again a few days later.
Sometimes, according to my friends, the results can be a bit bizarre. For example, that same friend absolutely refuses to even taste one of my favorite concoctions, macaroni and cheese, with onions and lima beans stirred in, the whole cooked or baked until the mac and cheese is crusty. I love the stuff. She shudders at the very thought.
Still, I suppose these experiments could count as original recipes and I hereby offer one up, with no guarantees.
First, let me explain that most of my ‘recipes” are created when I look in my fridge and find I’ve run out of those items I usually eat. What follows is a careful examination of what is there, and a careful consideration of the question: “If I throw a little of this and a bit of this and a handful of that in a pot and cook it, will it taste good?”
Here’s one such combo that did, and I still make it...and like it...and have survived eating it a number of times.
Take a frying pan. Add a squirt of oil. (You expected precise measurements?) What kind of oil? Whatever you have. While it heats up, chop up the last little chunk of onion in the vegetable drawer. And the still-good half-a-tomato. And the quarter-of-a-green pepper. And the meat off one of the two chicken legs that you stuck in the freezer a few days ago, after you cooked a whole roast chicken for dinner. And the last handful of frozen corn left in the package. Throw everything but the tomatoes in the frying pan, medium heat.
Brown everything . While it’s browning, browse through the seasoning shelf. Chili powder? Why not? A few shakes worth. The cream colored powdered fajita seasoning? Toss a capful in. Add the tomatoes, which gives the stuff enough liquid to start making a sauce. Turn down the heat. (How far down? Enough so that the stuff doesn’t start burning.)
Grab a few frozen tortillas out of the freezer. Put them on a plate, upend another plate and put that on top, put this in the microwave. (What, you thought I’d have a tortilla warmer?) Do not turn the microwave on yet. Turn the heat off on the frying pan.
Look for other stuff to add. In the pantry, a can of black beans. Why not? Drain, rinse, add two handfuls to the frying pan. Turn on the microwave for fifteen seconds. Check tortillas. If they are still cold, try another fifteen seconds. While waiting, look for more stuff to add. Aha! A handful of chopped cheese in the fridge. (What kind? Whatever is there, of course.) A half an avocado. Mashed, spread lengthwise across the center of the now-steamed tortillas. Add a sprinkle of the chopped cheese.
Take a spoonful of sour cream (very useful stuff) and add it to the frying pan. Turn on the heat for a minute and stir until you have a thick sauce. Turn off the pan, spread the mixture along the center of the tortillas, roll the tortillas, cook (still on the same plate) in the microwave for a few seconds to melt the cheese and you have —food! Takes about ten minutes, uses maybe three dollars worth of food, serves three and you have one frying pan, two plates, one drainer and two spoons to wash.
Don’t overdo the chili powder.
I love the part about "if I'm still alive the next morning." I'm kind of the same, though....I hate to dump any kind of food, and how hard is it to make a bunch of vegetables into a salad, or put together a casserole?
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