trinidadian black-eyed pea stew

After uploading all the photos for this post, I almost didn't want to start writing the copy. Contemplated a nap. Decided to persevere. So this is a recipe for a Trinidadian stew. I can't vouch for its authenticity, not being Trinidadian. But it sounded good.



I based my recipe on the above recipe for Trinidadian Black-Eyed Pea Soup.



I found it in a book called World Vegetarian by Madhur Jaffrey. She's like the Godmother of Indian cooking. I don't know if she knows anything about West Indian cooking... but I bet she can fake it. I'm also thinking she's looking pretty awesome in that photograph, because her Wikipedia entry tells me she was born in 1933. If her recipes keep me looking that fine when I'm 70-something, I'd be happy.



This is a package of dried black-eyed peas. I'm totally making this recipe from scratch, sorry for your luck. You can take the wimpy way out and used canned black-eyed peas. I'll enable you that much.



For the real cooks out there, pre-soak the beans in a pot full of water. I'm using my Crock Pot here. Soak the beans for several hours (eight is always quoted as a good number, but I'm pretty loosey-goosey with cooking times myself, so feel free to make it up), then drain off the soaking water, re-fill your cooking vessel, and cook the beans until they're done. I totally meant to cook my beans in the slow cooker overnight, but forgot to. This morning I was greeted by some beans that had been soaking for about 20 hours. Awesome.



I also made the mistake of trying to cook too many beans for the capacity of my Crock Pot. They made a total mess of my counter and my kitchen floor when the cooking water boiled over. Also awesome.



When the beans are done they will be soft (i.e. try one and see if it breaks a tooth or not). Another way to tell if beans are done is by blowing on them; if the skins start to curl away from the insides, then they're done. I really wanted to demonstrate that technique in the above photo, but apparently my beans weren't cooked enough. I called them done anyhow.



I had the brilliant idea that I would like to cook the entire stew in my Crock Pot, and so I rushed to clean it out after the beans were cooked. I don't really recommend trying to wash a REALLY HOT Crock Pot. Like really - pretend I never even suggested it might be possible. But this hypothetical woman I might know? She does it all the time. And when she doesn't burn herself, it's mostly successful. Just remember to unplug the outside container first if you should be so foolhardy, yourself. After all that work, I realized that IF THE BEANS WERE TOO FULL FOR THE CROCK AND MADE IT BOIL OVER, then the stew would probably be, too. And maybe even more so. Ya think? So I cleaned this bugger for nothing. Sigh.



Okay, don't be frightened. I meant to have a nice picture of three lovely bell peppers to introduce the whole chapter on "How to Roast Peppers," but I neglected to actually take that photo. I'm sorry. The charred mess, above, is actually what these things look like after they've been roasted. When I do them, anyhow. Simply wash and dry the peppers and put them on a cookie sheet lined with aluminum foil. Then stick them under the broiler and turn them regularly. This is one instance when the presence of a smoke alarm anywhere near the vicinity of your kitchen will be really annoying. I had to take the batteries out of mine before these babies were done. True.



Cover the roasted peppers with plastic wrap (if you're fond of zeno-estrogens in your food supply) or aluminum foil (if you're playing Russian Roulette with Alzheimer's), and let them sit, covered, for 10-15 minutes. This helps sweat the skins off. In theory. The above peppers have done their sweating, and as you can see from the middle pepper, the skin should just peel right off without much trouble. I totally recommend you let the peppers cool completely before trying to remove the skins. Not that I follow my own advice. But I totally recommend that you do.



The peppers will now be all limp and slimy; slice them in half lengthwise and remove the stem end and seeds. You may need to scrape all the stray seeds with a knife or something. I don't recommend you use your fingers, because that then becomes a lovely game akin to the whole peanut butter on the roof of your mouth phenomenon. Chop the seeded peppers into a large dice.



Take an onion.



Chop it into a fine dice.



Take some sinfully yummy coconut oil (my new favorite cooking oil, because of its high smoking point and delicious flavour - and its multitude of health benefits including weight loss and anti-infection properties (I'm not making this stuff up, although that doesn't mean that it's true)), and heat the oil in a skillet.



Saute the onions in the coconut oil until they're soft and slightly browned. My onions are a little browner than you're aiming for. Thought I'd offer that up as a bit of a cautionary tale. (More like I just got preoccupied with other stuff in the kitchen before I took the photograph.)



Remove the onion from the heat and add the chopped, roasted peppers to the onions. You can see how successful I was at removing all the pepper seeds. What can I say? I always use my fingers.



Take four carrots.



Chop them into a medium dice. Note that my dice qualifiers are totally arbitrary and only meant to sound professional. Which I am not. At least I've styled the photograph in such a way that it appears to demonstrate how to chop carrots into a dice. I've forgotten what I actually did here, though.



Saute the diced carrots in more coconut oil. Add them to the onions and peppers.



Next comes a bunch of fiddly little ingredients that you add to the onions, peppers and carrots. Start with 4 tablespoons of uncooked brown rice.



Then add this much ginger. I'm calling it 1 1/2 teaspoons, but then I like ginger. If you don't like ginger, add less. Or none. Why are you even making this recipe if you don't like ginger, though?



Okay, the next few photos might be a bit confusing. The recipe called for allspice, which I don't have. But I'm thinking, "Allspice is called allspice because it tastes like all the baking spices." You know - like cloves and cinnamon and nutmeg. I think. So here I'm adding a tiny bit of ground cloves. If you have allspice (show-off), just add some allspice and forget about these other spices, okay?



This is cinnamon. I think.



I'm pretty sure this is nutmeg. I'm pretty sure I don't remember how much I added. Seems to me I was grinding this thing for a long time. I like nutmeg, though. You might not.



Okay, now we're adding some mustard. The recipe called for dried, ground mustard, but I totally didn't have that either. This is prepared mustard from a squeeze bottle. I was thinking it was Dijon or something, but then I noticed the label said honey mustard. Doh. I don't think it will matter, though.



Okay... now here the recipe called for thyme, and I don't have any of that either. But I'm thinking that thyme and sage are kind of the same, so I added ground sage. Sounded good in my head, anyway.



The recipe also called for bonnet peppers. I think those are super hot. I'm not a bit fan of even barely hot, myself, so I substituted red pepper flakes. Feel free to improvise with an eye towards your own particular level of hotitude.



This liquid that looks like dishwater is actually vegetable stock that I save from cooking vegetables and freeze until I need it in recipes. Yes, I am that awesome. Feel free to use plain water if you must, or some kind of vegetable boullion from the store. Total aside: Guerilla Firebox is telling me that I'm spelling boullion wrong. Totally had to look that one up, just to be sure. Don't know where they're getting their spell-check words from, but I think boullion is totally the way Americans spell that word. The French spell it bouillon, and the English and Canadians add another 'u' in there somewhere, I think.



Add everything (black-eyed peas, vegetables, rice, spices and herbs) to your cooking pot, and then add the stock or broth until everything is just covered. I don't like watery soups, which is why this recipe is called "stew." Go ahead and make a soup if you really want a soup. I don't. Simmer the stew (soup) for about 45 minutes until the rice is cooked. You'll know it's cooked because the individual grains will be all puffed up and splitting apart.



This is what my stew looked like when it was done.



Okay, now comes another confession: The soup recipe called for fresh cilantro. I didn't have any of that either. I made a special trip to the grocery store after the stew was all cooked, because while the stew tasted good, I knew it would be so much better with cilantro in it. I LOVE cilantro. Some of you might not. In fact, to some of you, cilantro might taste like soap. True. I'm so glad I'm not one of those people. Anyhow, to finish off this recipe properly, you really need some fresh cilantro.



Cut off a big handful of the leaves, and wash them well. They'll probably be quite sandy, and that's such an unpleasant feeling against the teeth, let me tell you. To chop the cilantro, I use a pair of scissors. It feels like cheating, but apparently real chefs do it that way too, so I'm passing the tip along for what it's worth.



This is what my finished, finished stew looked like. And it tasted awesome. Really.



Packing up leftovers into glass sealers, so I can freeze them for another meal. You don't have to be that anal if you don't want to be. So there you go. You're welcome.

potato recipe

This is one of my favorite ways to eat potatoes. Recently, anyhow. For this recipe you will need: whole potatoes (preferably waxy ones, but if you don't know what that means, don't worry about it, or at least try not to use baking potatoes in this recipe), olive oil, salt, garam masala (an Indian spice blend), red pepper flakes and lime juice. Start by washing the potatoes and putting them (whole and unpeeled) in a large pot with enough water to cover them.



I seem to have chosen a winning bag of potatoes this time around; had to cut off a lot of rotting spots before I put them in the pot. It's alright if you have to do this. Just don't be cooking any rotting potatoes, okay?



Here are the potatoes cooking in the pot. How long will they take to cook? Gosh, I don't know. I usually put the timer on for about 25 minutes, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. I often ignore the timer whenever it goes off. Which basically means I don't know how long it really takes to cook anything. You can tell they're done when 1) You can stick a fork in the potatoes and the fork goes through them easily, or 2) The smoke alarm goes off. I don't necessarily endorse option 2), because it doesn't guarantee that you'll actually be able to eat the potatoes. Just saying.



Cooked potatoes. Yum, yum. When I took this photograph, I was planning on eating both these potatoes for my lunch. I apparently have no high glycemic fear.



Mash the potatoes with a fork. I like them kind of chunky - the point is not to make real mashed potatoes. I would have called this post, "mashed potato recipe," in that case.



Drizzle extra virgin olive oil on the potatoes. This is my favorite brand of extra virgin olive oil. I see I have cleverly hidden the actual name when taking this photograph. No product placement here, Gallo.



Sprinkle the potatoes with salt. I prefer a New-Age-y organic herb salt called Herbamare. It's good. Really.



Sprinkle a bit of garam masala on the potatoes. I use my fingers. You don't eat my food, so it doesn't matter. Go ahead and use your own fingers - I dare you. (Better yet, I dare you to sprinkle the spice directly from the open container. Re-read the above comment about the smoke alarm first, though.)



Sprinkle some red pepper flakes on the potatoes. I don't really like spicy food, so I use the "air kiss" version of sprinkling here, but you may actually want to get some pepper flakes on your own potatoes. I have bad flashbacks from my childhood when I accidentally sprinkled too many red pepper flakes on my Mother's pizza during family outings. (That's "Mother's" as in the restaurant, "Mother's." Not my own mother. Her pizzas came out of a box.) Repressed memory just surfacing: OMG, my brother and I totally used to dare each other to eat the red pepper flakes straight from the jar at Mother's!



Sprinkle a bit of lime juice on the potatoes. I'm a total esoteric foodie, so I prefer fresh lime juice. Go for the bottle instead, if you like. (You'll regret it, though. Just saying.)



I use one of these wooden citrus reamer thingies to juice my fresh limes. Yes, totally a pain in the @ss.



That's it. No more sprinkling needed, unless you have some other brilliant ideas. These potatoes will go well as a side dish for just about any meal, or - as I've chosen - the main feature of a solitary repast where no-one will notice (or ask) why you're not eating anything else with those potatoes. You're welcome.

kittens

My sister's cat, Tulip, had these kittens sometime between Monday night and Tuesday morning. This picture was taken when they were less than 24 hours old. I want them all. (But will probably settle for two.)

Funny story about Tulip: A year ago my sister brought home two kittens for my niece and nephew. The kids named them Ted and Tulip; Ted belonged to Kyle, and Tulip belonged to Meghan. The gender attribution was little more than wishful thinking, however: At that young age, it was really unclear whether the kittens were actually a male and a female. Even I couldn't tell, after multiple examinations of their rear ends - and I consider myself somewhat of a Doctor Doolittle. As time went on, it seemed like they were both males, but the names stuck.

Ted and Tulip were awesome cats - so friendly, and very tolerant of being carried around by Meghan and Kyle. Ted, the more adventurous of the two, would follow Kyle out to the road every morning when he waited for the school bus, and unfortunately one day Ted was hit by a car and killed.

Tulip has received much love and attention ever since, and when he suddenly started getting very fat, my sister suspected he might actually be pregnant. When she added that she had once seen a stray cat mounting Tulip, the evidence seemed pretty conclusive. Also helped me make sense of Kyle's story about the "bad black cat that bit Tulip's neck." Hope he was not too traumatized from witnessing that primal scene. Country kids sure grow up fast...

Anyhow, Tulip had kittens yesterday. Awesome. As mentioned above, I want them all. Before the kittens were born, Kyle and Meghan had decided amongst themselves that Tulip would have five kittens; Meghan would get three (because Tulip was her cat), and Kyle would get two. Personally, I think Kyle should get the extra one after the tragic loss of Ted, but anyhow...

Tulip did, indeed have five kittens. Am starting to think that my niece and nephew may have some latent prescient powers.

various photos

Going a little nuts taking pictures lately... Here's a smattering of them for your viewing pleasure. They uploaded in reverse chronological order, so I'm leaving them that way. Doesn't really matter, for the sake of enjoying them. Above is a new rubber (silicone) scraper I got at the grocery store on the weekend. I can't resist this colour. Makes me think of robins' eggs and Caribbean water.



Also bought these narcissi at the grocery store. Impulse buy that is making me very happy right now.



At a rummage sale on Saturday I got this egg separator. I don't really need an egg separator - can't remember the last time I separated an egg - but I love its design.



At the same rummage sale I also got these three chunks of amethyst. They were totally dusty, but look AMAZING since I've washed them.




Below is a random shot of the top of my toilet tank. Slice of life, you might say.




Above is my cutlery drawer. The sight of the silver-greys inside the creamy white drawer makes me so happy every time I open it.



My aloe vera plant. I recently moved it from my kitchen to my front room, which gets better sunlight.

rocking chair

I have loved rocking chairs since I was a kid. Their soothing action always calms me. It wasn't until I saw contemporary remakes of traditional designs, however - with 21st-century proportions and finishes - that I began coveting a rocking chair (or seven) for myself. I still have this dream of filling my living room with no other seating but rocking chairs, so all my guests can comfortably rock away the hours whenever they came to visit. (Or get suitably seasick. Which might also be fun.)

East of London there is a farmer's market called Trail's End, where a furniture seller carries finished and unfinished oak rockers that would look at home on any gracious country veranda. I visit them every once in a while, sitting in the generously-sized chairs and dreaming of a day when my budget will allow me to purchase one of my own.

Today my friend Laurie suggested an impromptu visit to Goodwill to find a single dinner plate to replace one I'd broken earlier this morning; while in the store, I saw a gorgeous wooden rocker with simple lines and a wide seat, and I was smitten. It was marked $49.99, and I decided it would be my birthday present from my family. When I took it to the cashier, she informed me that it was 50% off! Whoo-hoo! - a rocking chair in perfect condition for 25 bucks.

The sturdy chair (pictured above) is now in my middle room, where its simple wood finish blends perfectly with my bookshelves and floor. A little piece of heaven. Doing a little happy dance about my rocking chair right now...