I like “I Like Food…”

If you don’t know me, or haven’t seen my apartment, I collect cookbooks.  One of the advantages of working at a library is I can get the hook-up in buying cookbooks, which can be a great thing… or a wretched thing, considering my lack of space for said cookbooks, which are currently taking up heaps of space in both my apartment and in boxes at my parents’ house.  I have more cookbooks than I know what to do with, in more ways than one.

So, even though I’ve owned the book for some time, and my friend Melanie borrowed it for a while (two months? three?), I hadn’t made anything out of Kara Zuaro’s recipecompilation, I Like Food, Food Tastes Good: In the Kitchen With Your Favorite Bands.  With no pictures, aka “food porn,” I flipped through it out of novelty and put it away, never really taking it seriously.  It went off to Melanie’s house, to sit among other unused cookbooks, before coming back to mine about a month or so ago, where it was stacked with the obscene number of books which straddle the line between the kitchen and living room in the apartment I share with Clark.

Well, a couple weeks back, I decided to flip through it again, and flip through it in earnest.  And you know, I’ll be damned if there aren’t some really tasty-sounding recipes in this book.  I marked recipes that sounded yum with sticky-tabs, then realised the whole book was nearly tabbed, save for the “Carnivore” section.  And last week, after waking up from a nap at 8 pm, bleary-eyed and hungry, I took the book with me and bought ingredients for Matt Pond’s Vegetable Enchiladas with Homemade Tomatillo Salsa.  Except, well, I cheated and got a can of salsa instead of making my own.  So really, it was just the veggie enchiladas, less the yellow squash (the ones they had at Publix weren’t too great) and the red bell peppers (no organic selection at said Publix).  Still, despite the shortcuts and substitutions, my first round of enchilada-making turned out a success.  I made so much I ate enchiladas for four days straight.  Surprisingly, I wasn’t particularly sick of  it, either.  Merely adding a different salsa on top or some sour cream seemed to satiate me just fine.

Other recipes in this book need to be made, once I get fired up again.  I’m particularly intrigued by the Vegetarian Paella recipe contributed by Camera Obscura member Gavin Dunbar.  Some of the recipes are a bit more free-form than others, which might frustrate those used to their recipes not looking like e-mails.  Devendra Banhart probably has the most creative format for his Africanitas Ricas, in which he refers to bananas as “godsends.”  Still, if there are godsends involved, it’s bound to be tasty.  The recipe for Oatmeal Cake contributed by the instrumental band Pelican looks dead yummy, especially with a topping made with butter, brown sugar, evaporated milk and coconut.  Other contributing bands and artists in the book include Lucero, The Hold Steady, RJD2, The Descendents, The Velvet Teen, Slowdive and Voxtrot.

So, if you have an indie band freak who needs to learn how to cook, how about gifting the hipster with this book?  Or perhaps you want to try your hand at the Pear and Goat Cheese Panini put forth by Mates of State?  Many of the recipes are simple enough, or can be simplified, as I proved with a can of storebought salsa, or just altered to your personal tastes.  I’ll continue to jam on the mixing bowls with this book in the future.

Which leads me to wonder, “What other cookbooks do I have lying around that are completely being ignored?”

Very many.  Very many, indeed.

Damn you, tiny print!

So, I don’t have the best vision in the world.  I grew up as the girl with the thick glasses, which were passed around in class from kid to kid during free time.  The kid would put my glasses on, and inevitably exclaim something along the lines of “Whoa!  You’re really BLIND!!” as they struggle to make out the laughing face of the next kid who wanted to try the lenses on.

By the time I had gotten into high school, I had begged to get contacts, and, at 14, I started wearing them, thinking that ditching the glasses would mean a one-way ticket to Cool Town.  Well, it didn’t, but I still wear contacts for the most part, and most people wouldn’t have really considered me to have a glasses-wearing past unless I tell them, “Yeah, past a couple of inches beyond my face–can’t see a thing.”

And lately, I’ve been concerned my vision is taking a turn for the worst.  My main culprit for the decline in my vision is the fact I stare at a computer screen for two or more hours pretty much consecutively at a time for work.  While driving and looking for street names, my companion in the seat next to me seems to point out the signs before I do.  Unless it’s Clark without his glasses, and for a moment, I feel a bit better about myself, until I put it into perspective: He’s not wearing contacts, but I am.

*sigh*

Just now, in an effort to make a new recipe called “Chocolate Spice Cookies,” I was at a point where something didn’t seem right.  Sure enough, taking a squintier look at the book, I realise the minuscule fraction next to the “1″ and before the word “cups” was not, as I had thought, 1/2, but 1/4.

Damn it.

So, to fix, or at least lessen, my error, I added a bit more butter, more honey (though the recipe called for maple syrup–I cheated) and more cocoa.  The recipe says to “refrigerate until firm,” but I’m impatient.  Also, I’ve already not followed the directions, so I likely won’t be rolling the dough out, as it wants me to, onto floured plastic sheets or plastic wrap.  My parents are out of plastic wrap, by the way.

This whole event goes to show that: 1) I will likely need a stronger prescription for my next set of contacts; and, 2) I really oughtn’t bake in someone else’s kitchen, like my parents’ kitchen, unless I know I have everything I need, not just what’s on the list of ingredients.

I guess now it’s time to plop this dough on a sheet, bake it, and see what happens.

Recovery Mode

I’ve been sick for about a week, and in addition to neglecting the smattering of e-mails that have been accruing in my e-mail inbox, I haven’t been writing anything in this li’l ol’ blog, disappointing many of you–or maybe just my father (hi, Pa).

Since I’ve been too busy going through boxes of tissue like they’re bags of potato chips and, well, otherwise languishing, I haven’t been able to bake at all.  It’s a shame, really, as I recently ordered and received a new cookbook, A Passion for Baking, by Marcy Goldman.  The book has recipies for rolls, pies, pizza dough, scones, cakes, cookies, muffins and more.  There’s even a whole chapter on biscotti.  The photos are exquisite, like for the  “French Strawberry Tart” on page 201 and “Pancetta Layered Bread” on page 77.  I can’t wait to dig into this book’s treasures.

Instead of fresh-baked goodness, I’ve been reliant on Wolfgang Puck’s soups this past week while I’ve been sick, in addition to loads of juice, tea and water.  There’s still a cough and some sinus issues lingering, and my voice isn’t back yet, but my immune system is making progress, so I’ll be well enough to meet with my friend Amy at Dandelion this week, and whenever Fran decides to have her birthday dinner, I should be able to make a showing–unless I’ve spent all my money on tissue, juice and soup lately.