Quick Quiche

When two people consistently prepare recipes that serve eight, well, you get gobs of leftovers.

Such is the first major road block on our cooking countdown: stuffing the fridge with dishes and coming back to spaghetti carbonara five days in a row. We've been consuming and accepting pumpkin themed drinks, network television (“The Office” may have peaked during season three, but it’s still far and away the best sitcom on any major station*), and visiting Cowboys Stadium.

Saturday morning, got back to grind mode. Sorta.

During the quiche prep, which is really really really easy by any honest appraisal, Victoria voiced dissent: why do you get all the easy recipes? A fair point of concern and one worth addressing.

It boils down to the fact that, until a few weeks ago, I couldn't differentiate boil from bake or make pasta. Now that these life skills are in my life satchel, I'll turn it up a notch and tackle bigger fish.

The quiche itself was and is delicious. There's still about half of it left. How long is quiche good for?

And while we're on the subject of baseball, I just have to say that it's wonderful to see Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera back in the World Series. I've been a big Yankees fan since I thought their logo was cool in 1996, and despite all the negative sentiment tied to this franchise (an obscenely expensive new stadium citizens of the Bronx get to pay for, Alex Rodriguez, the vast contributions to John McCain's presidential bid), I'll continue to back these guys as long as in-house talent I've followed forever keeps slugging. Bombers in six.

• 4 eggs
• 1 cup half and half
• ½ cup mayonnaise
• 2 Tbsp. flour
• ⅓ cup minced onions
• Salt and garlic powder/granules, to taste
• 8 oz. shredded Swiss cheese
• 1 package frozen chopped spinach, thawed and liquid squeezed out
• 1 9 inch unbaked frozen, deep dish pie shell

Preheat oven to 350. Whisk eggs, half and half, mayonnaise and flour in a mixing bowl. Add remaining ingredients except pie shell. Pour into unbaked pie shell. Cover exposed pie crust edge with strips of aluminum foil before baking to prevent burning. Bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until top is golden brown. Remove aluminum strips last 5 minutes of baking to brown exposed crust.

*The opinions of Ramon Ramirez do not necessarily reflect those of the Final Cookdown staff, many of whom are partial to the decidedly less funny, "30 Rock."

Forgive Me

Suddenly, it's been 11 days since our last blog. I'm terribly sorry. We spent a lot of time clearing out tons of leftovers from the fridge, and then I got some kind of weird bug, and we've been treading water lately and reverting back to old habits! But fear not: Ramon is getting back into the kitchen this weekend, and I'm sure I'll be not far behind. Get ready, world.

We'll be back.

Crispy Potato Wedges

October weekends are rolling.

We had barbeque on three separate occasions and kicked off the latte season with a blowout. Football, family gatherings, good vibes, cool weather, pumpkin-themed beverages, miniature pumpkins at every corner. It’s, hands down, the best month of the year. On Saturday, we likewise drove out to Dripping Springs to see Victoria’s little brother, Jackson, play some touch pigskin.

When I played pee-wee football during the fall of 1996, I was a chubby sixth grader who rarely got the ball. This experience taught me how to take a blow to the head and not immediately well up but rather hold back tears until coaches weren’t looking and sulk solemnly on the sidelines. It taught me how to throw a punch. It taught me how to get kicked out of blowout losses by throwing punches at stronger kids.

There was this kid, Adrian, who stabbed another kid at Bailey Middle School and made local headlines. He was our team’s best player and served no suspension. Adrian could hit the gaps like a 14 year-old, cut up the field like a monster. I remember being elated that Adrian was still in our starting lineup after the stabbing incident.

Like the time our entire class celebrated the O.J. trial’s live verdict, this is a childhood feel good memory that seems liberal to a deranged degree.

I guess my bigger point is that I detested playing tackle football. When I was 11, the league weight limit was 105 lbs. Jackson is not even in middle school and playing enormous chubsters with a 140-pound ceiling. During his game, the line of scrimmage was dominated by the other team’s fat kids. At this age there are rarely passes and the Silver Tigers were able to crush Jackson’s thinner, smaller Black Tigers with relative ease.

The ordeal was fun and family-friendly, but I left pissed that in such a short span of time, American kids have gotten so fat that tackle football regulations allow for 140-pound horse-kids to play alongside normal, 80-pound children. Patently unfair and I was really taken by Jackson’s mature, sportsman, post-game attitude.

Tying the above anecdote to a no-brainer statement about food, it feels good to control consumed ingredients.

During our third weekend barbeque with Victoria’s grandparents, the duty fell on me to bake potato wedges. Like the Denver Broncos 2009 offense, the process was simple, efficient, hugely successful. The resulting wedges were so good, we forgot to take pictures. Crispy, light, well-seasoned.

Again, all glory to Peepaw’s generous measurements. No homo.

• 4 medium Russet potatoes, cut into large wedges or ½ inch slices
• 1 Tbsp. vegetable oil
• ¼ tsp. freshly ground black pepper
• ⅛ tsp. salt
• 2 cloves garlic, minced (optional)

Place potatoes in a large bowl; add cold water to cover. Let stand 15 minutes. Preheat oven to 425. Spray a foil lined baking sheet with cooking spray. Drain potatoes in a colander. Spread on a double layer of paper towels. Cover with a second layer of paper towels. Press down to dry potatoes. Transfer potatoes to a clean, large bowl. Sprinkle with oil, salt and pepper; toss gently to combine. Arrange seasoned potatoes in a single layer on prepared baking sheet. Bake for 15 minutes. Using a spatula, turn potatoes; sprinkle with garlic. Bake until golden, about 15 minutes, turning baking sheet after 10 minutes for even browning. Serve immediately with ketchup if desired.

Mexican Chicken Soup

I type this post sitting on my cozy couch, wrapped up in a blanket. This is remarkable because normally by the afternoon, our A/C is blasting and it's a sauna outside and it couldn't be further from blanket weather. Today, however, is the first Saturday in recent memory I've been able to open the windows, watch some seriously good football, curl up and enjoy the high 50s (!) outside.

In honor of the weather, and in an attempt to woo it to stay for more than a few hours, I made a comforting chicken soup for lunch. It was a lot more labor intensive on the prep side than I expected, but it was more than worth it. The soup is really good and yielded 12 to 15 servings - enough for several meals. And we all know soup just gets better when it's reheated!

My only OOPS moment happened when I forgot to read the "bring to a boil" part before simmering. After about 10 minutes of simmering, I was not happy with how the broth looked and how the chicken was so... raw. Then I realized I am an idiot and forgot to read the boil part. So, I brought the soup to a boil, then simmered for a few more minutes, and all was well.

• 1 tsp. ground cumin
• 1 tsp. chili powder
• 2 tsp. cider vinegar
• ½ tsp. ground cinnamon
• 2 tsp. oil
• 2 ½ lbs. skinless & boneless chicken thighs, cut into bite size pieces
• 2 ½ cups thinly sliced onion (1 large) - Skipped because onions are vile
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 6 ½ cups chicken broth
• 4 cups chopped zucchini
• 1 ½ cups frozen whole kernal corn, thawed
• ¾ tsp. salt
• ¼ tsp. dried oregano
• One 14 oz. can whole tomatoes with liquid, coarsely chopped
• Shredded Monterey Jack cheese for garnish

Combine first 4 ingredients in a small bowl; stir well. Heat oil in a large soup pot over medium-high heat. Add cumin mixture, chicken, onion and garlic and saute 5 minutes. Add broth and next 5 ingredients; bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Ladle into soup bowls and top with cheese.

Spaghetti Carbonara

Challenge just got real.

Thursday, the ball was back in my court. Dish night. Lots of variables, lots of ingredients. Spaghetti Carbonara is a fairly straight-forward dish…if you know how to make pasta.

I had to dig deep, face my demons, somehow, some way turn these little sticks into intersecting, fluffy pasta. I went to the Wizard of Google for solace, for answers.

The prep time on this is 30 minutes and I plowed through the process in an hour and a half. But, I can’t give Victoria’s grandfather enough credit for absolutely nailing these measurements. Get that right, figure out how to fundamentally make pasta, the rest is a breeze.

Fry up some bacon, don’t burn your hands, use your shiny, dusty Kitchen Aid mixer to close the deal.

If I may be so bold, this has been the best dish so far. Or rather, my favorite of the recipes printed.

All glory to God. Shout outs to my wife on the appetizing staff art.

• 1 lb. spaghetti, cooked according to pkg. directions
• 8 ozs. bacon (8 slices), cut into 1 inch pieces
• Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper
• 3 large eggs
• ¾ cup grated Parmesan cheese plus more for serving
• ½ cup half and half

In a large skillet, cook bacon over medium heat, stirring occasionally until crisp, 8 to 12 minutes; transfer to a paper towel lined plate to drain. Meanwhile, in a large bowl, whisk together eggs, Parmesan and half and half. Set aside. Drain pasta, leaving some water clinging to it. Working quickly, add hot pasta to egg mixture. Add bacon; season with salt and pepper, and toss all to combine (heat from pasta will cook eggs). Serve immediately with additional Parmesan cheese.

Flounder (Really Tilapia) Provencal

I had a tough day yesterday. It was the kind of day that made me want to pick up chicken cones for dinner and round out the night with a very sophisticated pairing of white wine and straight-out-of-the-container Blue Bell. Nevertheless, I stuck to my guns and stopped by Central Market to get some last minute ingredients and set out to make Flounder Provencal--made on the cheap with tilapia--while the fish I bought the day before was still fresh.

Wait a second, I thought as I walked into the house--THE FISH! I exclaimed in my head. I FORGOT TO DEFROST THE FISH! Feeling ever so close to ordering pizza (I couldn't possibly expend the energy required to get back in my car to pick up chicken cones at this point. Duh.), I decided to roll with the punches and use the defrost button on the microwave. On my precious fresh fish. Nothing to make me feel like less of a "real" cook than using that blasted button. But I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

The result was very good, after a few road bumps. I misjudged the cooking time on the fillets; I think they were a bit thicker than the recipe called for so they needed more time in the oven. I plated our food and everything before I realized they weren't done in the middle. After a few more minutes cooking, the tilapia tasted great. Despite that damn microwave.

• 4 4 oz. flounder or other lean whitefish fillets - Substituted tilapia for less than half the price.
• 2 Tbsp. grated Parmesan cheese - Substituted Swiss because I couldn't find the Parmesan in the fridge and I am literally that impatient.
• ¾ tsp. dried whole basil
• ¼ tsp. salt
• ¼ tsp. garlic powder
• ¼ tsp. freshly ground black pepper
• 8 ¼ inch thick slices tomato
• 4 ⅛ inch thick slices onion - Skipped because onions are revolting.
• ½ cup chopped green bell pepper
• Non stick cooking spray
• Parchment paper

Cut 4 15X14 inch pieces of parchment paper; fold in half crosswise, creasing firmly. Trim each piece of parchment paper into ½ of a heart shape. Unfold parchment hearts and reveal entire heart shape, and place on baking sheets. Place 1 fillet on each parchment heart, right up to, but not over, the crease. Combine Parmesan cheese, basil, salt, garlic powder and pepper; sprinkle evenly over fish. Arrange tomato and onion slices over cheese mixture; sprinkle with bell pepper. Fold over remaining half of each parchment paper. Starting with rounded top edge, pleat and crimp edges together, working down to the bottom, pointed end of the heart. Twist ends tightly to seal. Packet should now be well sealed. FYI--My packets were not well sealed. The fishies were too big for the parchment. It still turned out fine, though. Coat top of parchment hearts with cooking spray. Bake at 400 for 12 minutes or until puffed and lightly browned. Place on individual serving plates, and cut open. Serve immediately, but be careful of escaping steam.

After all that, we ended up with a superb entree. I paired it with a salad, leftover Okra Nut Bread, and of course a chilled bottle of Evian in keeping with our French theme. We'll be having the other 2 fillets for lunch at work today. And since that takes care of leftovers... you can bet I'll be getting my free chicken cone this evening. If Hudson's on the Bend is responsible, it can't possibly count against our junk food rule. Right? Even though it's essentially fried chicken? Right?

Country Breakfast Casserole and Austin City Limits

I hope this is the year Austin City Limits realizes it desperately needs a little energy. For years I’ve stressed that the lack of an exciting headliner (defined as someone that can spark a sincere mosh pit) is crippling this festival. Everything is pleasant, solid, and burgeoning with key intangibles: gorgeous location, advanced logistics, stellar food options, some of the most educated and pleasant patrons you’ll run into. You can thank southern hospitality and the University of Texas there; a guy actually ran me down Sunday afternoon to hand me a dropped, wet twenty.

Still, without something loud and confrontational and horrendous – Metallica, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Green Day – the closer will continue quietly ending evenings with bleeding attendees and bored masses weighing the pros and cons of sticking around for that one song. Fifteen years ago, Pearl Jam uses mother nature, specifically the mud, to its advantage; to make people go crazy. During their stellar, fantastic, righteous, irrelevant set, people nodded agreeably.
And for all the high decimal ratings Grizzly Bear, Bon Iver and Dirty Projectors pile up along the scene, when it’s pouring and gross and the Cowboys are losing to KYLE ORTON, there’s no patience and no release. It’s no surprise that the only mass appeal highlights during the weekend (local electro dance wizards Ghostland Observatory and mash up heist artist Girl Talk) had the requisite strength to carry the night.
Really, we had an incredible time.

You may be asking yourself, “how do such hardworking, hard-playing young adults find moments to cook during such a weighty weekend?”

Breakfast.
Saturday morning I made my first career casserole; it was simple, easy and spurned the desire for future casseroles. The key ingredient here, and I imagine this is fairly standard but it blew my mind, was the cheap packet of white gravy. At the suggestion of Victoria, we seasoned with Basil and used overpriced, Chipotle sausage. She also took this appealing photo:

• 1 roll (12 to 16 oz.) sausage
• 6 bread slices
• 6 eggs, lightly beaten
• 1 cup water
• ½ cup milk
• 1 pkg. sausage country gravy mix
• 2 cups shredded cheddar cheese
• 2 Tbsp. melted butter
• Paprika

Crumble sausage into a large skillet; cook over medium heat until brown, stirring occasionally. Remove sausage and drain on paper towel. Spread sausage over bottom of a lightly greased 11X8 inch baking dish. Cut bread into 1 inch cubes. Set aside. Whisk together eggs, water, milk and gravy mix. Sprinkle cheese over sausage. Pour egg mixture over cheese. Arrange bread cubes evenly over mixture. Drizzle butter over bread. Sprinkle with paprika. Bake at 325, uncovered, 40 minutes or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove from oven and let stand 10 minutes before serving.

Okra Nut Bread

Last night kicked off our first evening of cooking! Which really meant I dinner-snacked as per usual while Ramon shopped for a few ingredients, getting home well past my old-lady supper time. Forgive me. We must ease into this whole “not living like college kids” thing.

Upon his arrival, I set to work on our first recipe: Okra Nut Bread. The combination of ingredients sounded a little odd, but I had some fresh okra from PP’s garden and was determined to make something with it. So many of my fondest childhood memories are of his garden: shucking corn in the hot summer sun, eating that delicious sweet corn for what felt like months after our hard work, liking tomatoes for the first time (only his, though), and of course eating my favorite childhood vegetable: okra. I even loved it boiled & slimy. I love that I started out this challenge with something that reminds me of PP so much.

Anyway, the bread turned out great--the ingredients mesh surprisingly perfectly! I noted my few minor adjustments below. The only other thing I’d change is the baking time; our electric oven always works superfast so my bread was just on the cusp of being overdone when I took it out at 40 minutes.

• 1 cup raw okra, chopped, cut or diced
• 2 tsp. shredded orange peel (zest) without the white part
• 1 cup orange juice
• 2 cups sifted all purpose flour - used 100% whole wheat flour
• ¾ cup sugar - used Splenda instead
• 3 tsp. baking powder
• ½ tsp. salt
• ¼ cup raisins
• ½ tsp. ground cloves or cinnamon
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 2 Tbsp. oil
• ½ cup chopped pecans

Combine okra, orange zest, raisins and orange juice. Let stand 30 minutes to plump the raisins. Sift together dry ingredients. Combine eggs, oil and okra mixture. Add to dry ingredients, mixing well. Add pecans. Mix and pour into a greased 9X5 inch loaf pan (my 8X8 pan worked fine!) and bake at 350 for 55 minutes. Remove from pan and cool.

I'll Be Missing You

Oftentimes, I’ll sit around and think, “I could really go for a nice soup today. Minestrone or maybe Gazpacho.”

Then I go into the kitchen and make cereal.

Cooking is such an otherworldly concept and every time I’ve tried flipping ingredients into art it’s been a miserable failure. Our kitchen is, you know, an apartment kitchen: small, cramped with shiny wedding presents. We have to stack our silverware on top of our electric stove. We have to line auxiliary glasses that won’t fit in cabinets next to the sink. Suffice it to say, not only is cooking unsuccessful, it quickly turns into a tense, tight mess of ingredients.

My parents make incredible salsa. My father has written me the recipe. My mother has stuffed a plastic bag full of the prepped ingredients, looked me in the eye, and said, “just dump this in the food processor you stupid piece of shit.” In Spanish.

Recently, I crushed a shot glass in the garbage disposal. By recently I mean several months ago. So in addition to the mess of produce piled up after each failed dish, I have to run everything down to the dumpster in real time. By dumpster I mean throw it out the window into the Earth.

The task at hand is towering. Part of the preconditions of our pact include severely cutting eating out expenses. Happy hours stay; mid-afternoon McDonald’s lunches go. Weeknight fine dining goes; weekend brunch and the occasional trip to Hyde Park Grill stays. Breakfast McMuffins go; the Saturday morning breakfast taco hangover recovery effort stays.

To kickoff this challenge in style, we toasted and pinky-swore over bar food at Texas Land and Cattle Wednesday night. Lotta chips, plastic, too-thick white queso; not as much red meat as would be ideal but we’re on a budget. We diagrammed, brainstormed, schemed, respectively ordered the house red and white wines.

Sirloin nachos, I’ll miss you most of all.

THE FINAL COOKDOWN

Dear 0 followers,

My name is Victoria and I am a twentysomething newlywed living in Austin, Texas. My husband Ramon is also a twentysomething newlywed living in Austin, Texas. Once upon last Christmas, my wonderfully talented grandfather--we’ll call him PP--gave me (us) a cookbook of his favorite family recipes. They are called VG, which means they have been deemed to be Very Good by my grandmother. It is one of my (our) most treasured gifts. Sadly, the only culinary actions around our place as of late have been ordering pizza and justifying “high protein” peanut butter and ice cream concoctions. Oh, and actually jumping out of bed in sheer terror at 5:30am last Tuesday when I heard someone put a Chinese food menu on our front door. Those things count.

Every day, the cookbook sits stovetop, flipped open to a recipe for crawfish etouffee that looks absolutely scrumptious and it just sits there and taunts me. “Hey there, Vic! How was your day at work? Feel like cooking some dinner? It’s crawfish season, you know. Oh, you’re tired today. You’ll try tomorr-- ha! How gullible do you think I am? I know your game. Go ahead. Reach for that jar of queso in the fridge and go watch Oprah. It’ll be our little secret. Except I will tell all of the other recipes in this book. Who can also talk.”

So why THE FINAL COOKDOWN? I promise I won’t type that in all caps every time. Well, we are COOKingDOWN through PP’s entire cookbook through the remaining months on our lease. And who among us hasn’t derived a little epicurean inspiration from Europe every now and then? Sidenote: Can we talk about how bands named after places really oughta make a comeback for comedy’s sake? Anyway, if you decide that you want to read about our cooking adventure, we suggest you bookmark us and don’t fumble our URL in an 80s rock daze and accidentally reach this guy. Regardless. We have lived in our apartment for more than two years and have cooked less than a dozen real, honest-to-goodness, non-microwaved, non-ice-cream-involved meals in that time. It’s pathetic. Before we get some fabulous new place we must get acquainted with our tiny kitchen. If it can be done here, it can be done anywhere.

THE GOAL: Cook all of PP’s recipes, Julie & Julia style.
THE DEADLINE: 8 months from today. June 1, 2010.
THE FINAL COOKDOWN: 100 recipes and 243 days to go.