A college student cooks…well

Noah checks out

Teachable moments. When a child is five, it seems there are a thousand of them. By the time they’re twelve, the stack starts to dwindle. And, at almost 20, I am now down to five or six. Or so it seems.

Noah wants an apartment next year and, with that, will come cooking his own meals. He will have a budget of $100 a week (what, in a year, his meal plan would cost) and I am superior in my assumption that he has no idea how to make that money stretch for a week. So we test the theory. We go to the grocery store with a calculator.

We hit the perimeter of the store first. That’s where you want to shop. The produce, meat and dairy sections. Only go to the dark side for staples like pasta, oil and spices. Hamburger Helper? NO! Chips Ahoy? DANGER! Velveeta? Okay, you’ve got me there. I love me some Velveeta.

So, to make a long story short, he did great. Dammit. He bought (I bought) a package of chicken breasts, thin-cut pork chops and two pounds of bulk sausage. Low rent ham for sandwiches. Lower rent bread. Frozen vegetables, rice, pasta, apples, coffee, canned soup and store brand cheese. He bypassed the relatively expensive convenience foods. He was unsuitably smug in his victory and totally discounted the fact that I had guided him away from the frozen pizza.

Having a basket full of groceries and knowing what to do with them are two different things, however.

Pork chops, mashed potatoes and green beans

Hah! I’ll get him here. “So, son?” I say coyly. “Why don’t you cook us supper with your new groceries? Just whip something up. Anything, really.”

And I leave. I go down to the garage to smoke and play World of Warcraft, confident in the fact that when I ascend again there will be mass chaos, a smoke-filled kitchen and burnt shards of something inedible on the plate.

“Mom?” he says. “Supper’s ready.”

I ascend. I gasp. How did friggin’ Emeril Lagasse find my kitchen? Noah has made coffee rub/breadcrumb coated pork chops, cooked perfectly until just rosy in the middle. He has made buttery mashed potatoes with garlic. He has made hericot verts with garlic. Alright, too much garlic but I am not going to quibble. It was all delicious.

So, tonight we go again. Chicken breasts, chopped green and yellow pepper, red onion, mushrooms.

Chicken, peppers, mushrooms and pasta. Noah style.

He chops the chicken and seasons it with Montreal Chicken Seasoning. Sautes in oil, removes the chicken and then adds the vegetables.  When they’re nice and brown he adds a bit of Madeira (not something he’ll have on campus – I can’t see you)  and then adds a can of cream of mushroom soup. This is going to suck, I think. He thins the soup with milk, adds back the chicken, and then puts the entire mixture over pasta.

Dang it! It’s good. If I hadn’t watched him add the soup, I would never have known. I had seconds. And I wasn’t being polite.

I am proud of my boy. I would like to think that my miniscule attempt at one of the last few teachable moments had the seeds of germination in the hours he’s spent watching me cook over the last 19 years. But as I told him tonight there is no way to teach someone to cook. You either have the intuition or you don’t. You’re a recipe follower or you’re a creator. You can pick up tips and tricks, but you have to just have the knowledge of what goes with what and how much in your gut.

And he has it. No brag, just fact.

Smothered pork chops

If it wasn’t for Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom Soup, we might starve to death. And I don’t think this is a Southern thing, although we can slap wear out a can of cream of mushroom soup for almost any occasion. Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom Soup is a universal addiction. And it has to be Campbell’s. Spare no expense.

I am not sure I know anyone who eats Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom Soup as just plain soup. I’ve never seen it in a bowl. It is actually a sauce. Somehow heat and the addition of other ingredients transforms the soup into a silky, rich sauce.

And the perfect example is smothered pork chops. This is a busy-night, go-to meal. It takes an hour to cook, but just 10 minutes to assemble.

Smothered Pork Chops

4 bone-in pork chops

16 ounces sliced mushrooms

2 cans cream of mushroom soup

2 tablespoons minced dried onion

2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce

Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a skillet. Salt and pepper the chops and brown them on both sides.

Lay the mushrooms in the bottom of a 9-by-13 baking dish. Put the pork chops on top.

Mix together the mushroom soup, dried onion and Worcestershire sauce. Spread over the pork chops.

Bake at 350 degrees for one hour or until the chops are tender.

Whipped potatoes with cilantro pesto

Jealousy is such an ugly emotion. Ugly, ugly, ugly. Especially when it is displayed by me.

Friday night the boys and I go over to our friends Kim and Lori’s house. Kim is also a big-time cook and she and I are making supper. I have not seen Kim’s house since she did a giant remodel, tearing out a wall between her old kitchen and the garage and making a brand new kitchen. I know I am going to be impressed…and jealous. Very jealous.

My kitchen is humble. I like to pretend I live in France because my kitchen is about as big as the average kitchen in Paris. I arrive at Kim’s and there it is. A big honking brand new kitchen with everything. She has two sinks, one with a fancy pot filler. She has custom cabinets and deep, deep drawers for her thousands of high quality pots and pans. Her Le Creuset enamel pots look brand new (my one pot is 25 years old and chipped – am I whining yet?).

And then we get to the crushing blow. The stove. I look like I’m smiling here, but it is a facade masking my intense jealousy over this stove. It is an industrial restaurant stove, a six burner. Gas, naturally. Two ovens. Convection. I am green with envy but I do not display it. However, I actually bring the one kitchen tool that Kim does not have. It is a ricer for the whipped potatoes with cilantro pesto. She marvels at it. Says she’s always wanted one. She has the $6,000 stove. I have the $14.99 ricer. I take what solace I can.

The meal is a great success. Kim makes Bobby Flay’s pork chops with a soy and honey glaze. Here’s the recipe. She grills them on her medium Big Green Egg. I have a large one. Ha! Oh, that’s petty, too, isn’t it.

The chops were very tasty. Very tasty, indeed. But the hit of the supper were those whipped potatoes with cilantro pesto.

They are also from a Bobby Flay recipe. I just love Bobby Flay. He’s such a creative guy and his recipes, unlike my former boyfriend, Thomas Keller, are easy to follow. Maybe I’ll make Bobby Flay my new boyfriend. He makes his whipped potatoes with butter and milk and cream. Yes!

So the evening was a smashing success. Great food and great conversation with two of my favorite gal pals. We’re getting ready to leave. I gather up my cookbooks and head for the ricer. “Uh, could I keep it for a few days?” Kim asks. Of course, I respond with a faint whiff of superiority.

Bobby Flay’s Whipped Potatoes with Cilantro Pesto Serves: 4 Fold, don’t mix, the pesto into the potatoes. You want to marble the potatoes with ribbons of the vibrant green pesto. Cilantro Pesto 1 cup tightly packed fresh cilantro leaves 1/4 cup tightly packed parsley leaves 1 garlic clove, coarsely chopped 2 tablespoons pine nuts 1/2 cup olive oil 1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese Salt and freshly ground pepper Combine cilantro, parsley, garlic and pine nuts in a food processor and process until smooth. With the motor running, slowly add the oil until emulsified. Add the cheese and salt and pepper and pulse a few times until combined. Mashed Potatoes 3 pounds baking potatoes, such as Idaho or Russet, peeled and cut into quarters 1 stick unsalted butter, at room temperature 1 cup heavy cream 1 cup milk Salt and freshly ground pepper 1. Place potatoes in a large pot and cover with cold water by 2-inches. Add 1 tablespoon of salt and bring the potatoes to a boil over high heat and cook until soft, 25-30 minutes. Drain well and return them to the pot on the stove over low heat. 2. Combine the butter and milk in a small saucepan and bring to a simmer over low heat. Add the butter and hot milk/cream mixture to the potatoes and mash until smooth. Fold the cilantro pesto into the mashed potatoes and season with salt and pepper.

Mac and cheese

Velveeta is just one big block of processed cheese food love. I’m just saying.

Today, I had a real craving for macaroni and cheese but I hate making it when there’s just the three of us because I do not think it reheats well. This is why, in my younger, fatter days, I used to eat an entire box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese at one sitting. I just loved that stuff and still do. It’s a food memory from a time when I was starving to death because my mother didn’t cook.

Over the years, I’ve tried probably three dozen recipes for macaroni and cheese. Mac and cheese is peasant food and it shouldn’t cost an arm and a leg to make. But most recipes that look pretty tempting call for cheese that sells for $14 a pound. No, sir.

So, today Noah called and asked if he could have a few friends to supper. Yea! Enough people to eat an entire pan of mac and cheese. Fortunately, I had stocked up on Velveeta when the Publix had it “buy one, get one free.” Velveeta keeps for years, you know.

So, here it is. Isn’t it pretty? Why, yes, thank you. I think it looks fairly appetizing. What to serve with it? I think if you’re busting out the seams with macaroni and cheese you might as well go all the way. We had fried pork chops. Oh, I threw in some green beans just for color. JUST for color.

Macaroni and Cheese

8 ounces elbow macaroni

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons flour

1 1/2 cups whole milk

8 ounces Velveeta

Salt and pepper to taste

Corn flake crumbs

Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium high heat and add the flour. Whisk  about two minutes to get the raw taste of the flour out. Slowly add the milk, whisking continuously, until you get the consistency in the sauce you want. Cube the Velveeta and add it to the pot. Whisk until it melts and season with salt and pepper (I usually throw in a little smoked paprika, too). Taste it.

Cook the macaroni in boiling salted water until it’s just tender. Do not cook the macaroni to mush. It’s the biggest mac and cheese sin.

Combine the macaroni with the cheese sauce and put in a 9-by-9 pan. Top with a generous sprinkling of corn flake crumbs. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes.

Pork chops and fried apples

I would like to be a rich woman. I would like to be a rich woman not so I could buy diamond earrings or a European sports car or a villa in the south of France. I would like to be a rich woman so I could afford more of the $12 pork chops I bought last week. I am not a food snob by any means and I can honestly say that the three organic chickens I have bought in my lifetime tasted just like, well, chicken. But I became a true believer in heritage pork the other night.

I bought the chops from West Wind  Farms, which you will start to think I have some kind of partial ownership in, but I don’t. The first thing I noticed is that the raw chops were really red, not pale pink like the pork in the grocery store. I just cooked them the simplest way possible, coated in bread crumbs and fried in oil. One thing I’ve learned about pork in the modern age is that you don’t want to overcook it. You want there to just be a blush of pink in the center.

They were utterly delicious. Meaty beyond description and moist as could be. I could taste the difference between heritage pork and grocery store pork and I just hate that because it means I am going to buy more $12 pork chops (two to a package, so $6 each). But at least I can buy them using my debit card (don’t you love it that organic farmers take credit cards?) so I won’t actually watch the dollar bills disappear from my wallet.

Now, on to fried apples. I personally believe there is no greater combination that pork and fried apples.

Fried Apples

8 Granny Smith apples

Juice of one lemon

1/3 cup sugar

1 teaspoon cinnamon

3 tablespoons butter

Peel the apples, core them and slice them into 1 inch slices. Sprinkle the slices with lemon juice as you cut them up so they won’t turn brown. Put them in a skillet and sprinkle them with the sugar and cinnamon. Add the butter.

Saute them over medium heat until the apples are soft, about 15 minutes.