Day Fifty: Don't Wash Your Cast Iron Pots

This morning I was loading my dishwasher and I found something shocking.  Someone had put my cast iron skillet....in. the. dishwasher.


:pause for dramatic effect:


Some of you may be wondering why I am so terribly concerned about my skillet being in the dishwasher. I am distraught because my cast iron skillet was almost washed.  One does not wash cast iron pots.  One cleans cast iron pots, but never ever with soap and never ever ever put it in your dishwasher.  It will rust.

I learned this lesson before I had ever even heard of Martha.  A little old Southern lady who taught finishing school imparted this wisdom on me:  "Nevah wash your cast iron, honey. You clean it, with sah-llt."

She was a wise lady.  Not everyone can turn "salt" into a two syllable word.

I didn't understand this wisdom at the time, mainly because I did not actually own any cast iron pots at the age of sixteen.  However, when my mother gave me a cast iron pot (about the same time she taught me to cook a chicken), she too imparted this same wisdom.  Never mind that two very wise women had given me the same tip, I had to double-check with Martha.

Martha says to clean a cast iron pot you should wipe with only hot water and never use detergent. If food is still stuck to the pan, scrub it with coarse salt, and wipe immediately with a clean cloth.  To read her complete instructions and all about seasoning a cast iron pot in the first place, see Housekeeping p. 68.

Dirty skillet with cleaning salt:

Scrubbing with salt:

Clean as a whistle:

....and nary a lick of soap was used.  Skillet saved.

Day Forty Nine: Paper Flower Wreath or All I Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

I was reading this feature by Martha on Paper flowers.  Sweet, but how whimsical would they be in patterned paper?  Maybe instead of another failed cherry tree arrangement, I'll try a wreath.  It would be perfect for my garden party in a few weeks.  Maybe I'll make two.  And, I have some paper leftover from another project that I can use...

Channel your inner kindergartener and fold and cut the paper. You will probably have flashbacks of making paper snowflakes.  But this time, little Colin Smith won't put gum in your hair. 

Repeat about five hundred twenty times:

I cut the center out of a cardboard circle to form this "wreath".  The cardboard circle was recycled from a frozen pizza and wrapped in paper leftover from the bunny boxes.  (Yes, a frozen pizza.  Don't tell Martha.)

Flowers placed on wreath:

I hot-glued my flowers on the wreath and hung it on our gate:

It looks super cute in person:  all the patterns make it fun.  They almost look like little butterflies.

I'd like to thank Mrs. Barry, my Kindergarten teacher, for showing me how to make paper snowflakes...and thanks to the frozen pizza peeps for including the cardboard with the pizza.  It was clutch.

And to little Colin Smith, I haven't forgiven you for the gum.

Day Forty Eight: I'm Down With That

As I may have mentioned a few (hundred) times before, I have several kids. When we check on them before bed, they are sometimes turned completely around in the bed, toes on pillows, or sometimes curled up on a pillow like a puppy on a dog bed.

I believe this nocturnal activity is the culprit of my discovery this morning:  a sort of...damp...pillow.  I'm not sure if it has been drooled on or if someone didn't make it to the bathroom.

I'm fairly baffled.

What to do?  I think the pillow should be cleaned but it's a down-feather pillow.  I can't wash it, right?

:runs to check Martha:

Martha says I can!  Hurrah!  I thought I was going to have to toss it.

In Martha's Homekeeping book, she says you can wash down either by hand or in your front-loading washer. After it's clean, you can throw it in the dryer on low heat for a few hours until it's dry.  Check out Homekeeping, p. 387-388 for more info.

Now my pillow is clean...of whatever was on it.

I would post photos, but there's not much to see...except my relieved face.

Whew.

Day Forty Seven: Second-Life Salmon

I believe in re-incarnation...Of food, at least.  I like a good leftover, but I can hardly get my husband to eat anything twice.  I sometimes wonder if his mother didn't force-feed him leftovers as a child.  Now he has an aversion.  Whatever the cause, I'm afraid of him starting a grass-roots campaign at our house. Then my kids will stop eating leftovers too.  Soon you'll start hearing about leftover-revolts all over the nation.

I think that's how the French Revolution started.

Or something like that.

When the salmon from the other night was just mediocre, I knew I'd have to be sneaky about the leftovers. So I reinvented the salmon filets by making Martha's Salmon Cakes.

Leftover "eh" salmon:

Salmon mixed up with a couple eggs and a bunch of other stuff:

Made into a patty...

Completed salmon cake served with zucchini and squash:

These were a vast improvement from the original salmon filets, but since I ate them both myself, I can't tell you if my husband approved.  Obviously, I thought they were delicious.

And I think the Dalai Lama would approve too.

Day Forty Six: Pretty Good Fudgy Brownies

Our family visited some friends yesterday.  The lady of the house kindly allowed me to bring a treat for the kiddos.  I decided to bring Martha's Fudgy Brownies with ganache.  Kids like brownies and these looked pretty darn good.  And they were pretty good.

Too bad my girlfriend also made brownies....and her brownies out brown-ied mine.  If it was a battle, it would have been a bloodbath.  And she would have been the conquering hero. 

If I had known she was going to make brownies, I would have made something different, like Martha's chocolate chip cookies.  I would have brought my A-game.  

I'm not exactly sure what my A-game is, but I would have brought it over.  

If my friend will share her recipe (hint hint) I will share it with you.  Then you can make both recipes and see which you prefer.   I'm going to bet it won't be these fudgy brownies.  

How can you lose with a start like this?

Cooked brownies:  The recipe makes about nine brownies but the ganache recipe makes enough for about seven batches of brownies...

So you end up with icing that's approximately an inch thick.

Still, they are pretty good.  Not A-game, but pretty darn good.

Day Forty Five: Spicy Cauliflower Surprise

I am trying to lose my baby weight.  "Baby weight" is the weight one gains while pregnant (and that hangs around after the baby is born).  For me, that number encompasses the extra weight from my baby plus that ten pounds I wanted to lose before I was pregnant.

My baby is welcome to this last few pounds.

I don't know a single person who doesn't want to lose a few pounds.  After all, this is America, land of the Overwieght, home of the Diet.  Of course, my writing this blog and consequently buying butter in bulk doesn't help at all.

To that end, I thought I would take advantage of Martha's Healthy Main Dishes and try her Roasted Salmon with Spicy Cauliflower.

According to my husband, the salmon was just "eh".  Nothing really exciting to say there.  The Cauliflower is another story.  Warning:  disgusting-looking photos ahead.

The Cauliflower starts by taking a bunch of anchovies, garlic and red pepper flakes and mashing it up into a paste:

The result looks like something you'd find on the floor of a frat-boy's car on a Sunday morning, or what your cat threw up last week.

Lovely cauliflower:

Then take the cauliflower and toss it into the cat vomit garlic-anchovy paste:

When it's cooked, not only does the cauliflower look brown and burnt, but the garlic-anchovy paste has blackened into something that looks like bird droppings...

HOWEVER, it tastes like a bit of spicy heaven....if you like garlic, red pepper and salt (which I do).  My hubby and I were fighting over who was going to get the last bit of cauliflower. But if you make this for guests, don't worry about people fighting over second-helpings.  This dish looks so terrible, you'll probably have plenty of leftovers. 

Day Forty Four: Making Pizza 101

When I left home for college, my mother made sure I knew how to cook a chicken.  I don't recall exactly her instructions (calling it a "recipe" would be a stretch), but I'm sure she said something like, "cook at 350 degrees until the meat is no longer bloody, or you'll die."

Needless to say, I didn't cook many chickens.

Luckily I went to school before the low-carb craze really hit, so I subsisted on baked potatoes, granola bars, pizza and plain pasta. It's hard to die from undercooked pasta.

When my kids leave home to start their lives, I want them to know how to cook.  I don't expect anything fancy, but I want them to be able to make a few of their favorite recipes. I try to explain to them how things are made, but I can tell it's not really getting through:

Me:  See this pasta?

Three-year old daughter:  Yes, mommy, I see it.  :Takes one look at pasta then down at doll in hand:

Me:  When this pot of water boils, I'm going to put the pasta inside.  When the pasta is soft, it will be ready to eat!   :trying to sound excited:

Three-year-old daughter:  Ready to eat?

Me:  Yes!  All ready for you to put in your tummy! :pats child's tummy:

Three-year-old daughter looks at me, looks blankly at pot of water, then back at me and says:

Mommy, I want to play princess!  Cinderella!!   :runs into next room:

I'm left standing in the kitchen, cooking lesson in tatters, wondering what happened to my fairy godmother.

So today, instead of just telling them about how things are made, I let them make pizza.  We made Martha's Three cheese pizza.  It was complete success, except for the part when they started fighting over the cheese and proceeded to wrestle over the pepperoni*, until we almost launched one pizza onto the floor. Luckily, I have cat-like reflexes was lucky and managed to save the pizza from ruin.

*Pepperoni not in the recipe.

Fixings:
I used naan bread, which for the uninitiated, is an Indian flatbread.  If you've never had naan, try it.  I will preemptively issue an apology, because once you try naan, you will love it, and it will quickly become one of the Things You Try To Avoid.  Sorry about that.

My son sorting through the pepperoni...and sneaking some when he thinks I'm not looking.

Spreading the sauce on the naan:

 Mozzarella application:  (I let them eat any they spilled on the counter...so they were not exactly careful in this process.  I'm rethinking that rule for next time.)

 Pepperoni on top (with a few in the mouth for good measure):

Delicious pizza.  They were so proud of themselves.

Pizza's finished now and I'm still waiting on my fairy godmother...but the kids have already asked what they can learn to make next.  

That glow you see on the horizon?  That's me.  I'm beaming I'm so proud.