Bee in my bonnet about buns in the oven

Let's face it. All of the baking in the world is done by women.  It's not our fault; sometimes biology is destiny.  Now men have an integral role in getting the bun in the oven, but while it's baking, they're pretty much AWOL--doing things that men do, like trying to win the Republican nomination for president.  Now don't get me wrong, I have an imminent respect for the miracle of baking.  It's a beautiful thing--a mystery really, how the union of flour and yeast can culminate in a perfectly brown bun.  And I fully respect that for some people this union of flour and yeast is a sacred thing.  Having done my fair share of baking, I actually count myself among them.

There are times, however, when things go wrong in the kitchen. The recipe was wrong or the dough didn't rise. Sometimes it's not the right time for baking.  Sometimes the oven is broken and it's too dangerous to wait for the buns to be finished before you fix it.  Sometimes there are enough buns in the pantry already.  Who knows?  Just don't forget whose oven it is and who is doing the baking.  The baker is the best person to figure out what to do.  Scratch that.  She's the only person who can figure out what to do because its her buns and its her oven.  So to the politicians and clergymen and whoever else is trying to control, regulate or otherwise take the baking away from the baker, your ideas and your laws are half-baked.  Please.  Do us all a favor and stay out of the kitchen.    

Happy Anniversary

The one year anniversary of my blog was this month.  It sort of got away from me, and I find myself surprised that's it's been a whole year.  Just like each of my kids' birthdays, my wedding anniversary, and well--ok, my age, I find myself perplexed by the passage of time.  Really--how in the hell does it happen?

But it's been fun, and when I started, I questioned whether I'd be able to keep it going.  I worried whether I could find enough material to scratch out an essay every week about life through the lens of food, or perhaps it's food through the lens of life?  Whatever.  I'm still here.  Along the way I've reconnected with old friends and made some new ones--much how I've reconnected with old recipes and tried some that I never would have otherwise.  A year ago when I googled "minivan cook", I came up with stories of minivan murders in Cook County and how to cook crystal meth in a minivan.  Now the same search pulls up this blog.  Say what you will, but I'll take that as an accomplishment.  Many thanks to those of you who follow me, encourage me, or feed me ideas.  We're a small little cadre, but look at this way, we're keeping crystal meth off the internet.   Happy Anniversary, Minivan Cook!

Anniversary Cake

Yeah right.  If you've been following this blog, you know that I don't bake.
Best I'll do is open a box of mix and add water, eggs, and oil.  Better yet--maybe I'll go buy one.  They're big and cheap at Costco.

Garlic: Stat

So if you read last week's post, there's no surprise about this week's: chicken thighs in garlic and lemon.  To the extent that not having garlic in the house was a crisis, obtaining some became an emergency.  A house without garlic is simply not a home--or at least any kind of home I'd want to live in.   It's like culinary feng shui--without garlic, there is an emptiness in the kitchen that generates negative energy.  Suffice it to say we were without garlic for less than two hours--long enough so that I could not make the recipe that I wanted to, but short enough that our house was still invulnerable to  neighborhood vampires. Now that the garlic stores have been replenished, equilibrium has been restored, evil spirits are at bay, and all is right in my world.

Garlic Chicken  

1.  8-12 chicken thighs on bone or 6 leg quarters cut up, skinned.  You are going for the dark meat here.  Set aside.


2.  3-4 potatoes peeled and sliced into 1/4" thick pieces.  Layer a large Pyrex roasting pan with the potatoes.

3.  Crush a whole bulb of garlic in a large bowl.  Put a note on the kitchen bulletin board to buy more garlic, because it really is a problem when you run out.  

4.  Add about 1/4 cup olive oil to the garlic and the juice of two lemons.  Add salt and pepper.  Mix well.

5.  Add the chicken thighs and coat them well with the garlic mixture.  Place over the potatoes.

6.  Bake on 350 degrees for about one and a half hours.  Check to make sure the internal temperature of the chicken registers at about 180 degrees.  Remove the chicken from the pan.  Stir the potatoes with the pan juices, and broil for about 3-5 minutes to get the potatoes a little crispy and brown. 

Before

After

7.  Take the garlic pact:  if you eat this dish, anyone you intend to kiss has to have eaten it too. 

My Garlic Shame

I recently asked a fellow foodie for ideas on how to spruce up chicken thighs.  I typically just smother them with barbecue sauce and throw them on the grill.  But when it's dark, raining, and 40 degrees outside, there's no way I'm firing up the old Smokey Joe.  I also don't want to wait until Spring to cook the Costco-sized package of thighs that is lurking in my freezer.  Chicken thighs, however, just stump me.  I never know how to make them, which begs the question of why I buy them, but this is a cooking blog not psychoanalysis.  In any event, this guy shoots me about 3 recipes in 30 seconds flat like he's a contestant on Iron Chef or something.   Lightly breaded with rosemary and garlic, sauteed with mushrooms, garlic, and tomatoes, and the one that really got my attention:  lemon juice, garlic, and  olive oil.  And then the words that made my mouth water:  make sure you use lots of garlic.  That was it.  Nothing but lemon juice, olive oil, and lots of garlic; lots and lots of garlic.  Perfect and frightfully simple for a working mom desperate to save some chicken thighs from freezer burn, and with all that garlic, destined to pack a flavor punch.

Except for one thing.  I didn't have any garlic.  For God's sake, I'm ITALIAN.  I NEVER run out of garlic.  My people weren't known as "garlic eaters" for nothing.  How was this possible?  I have 8 different kinds of pasta in my pantry, olives, anchovies, capers, and cans of tomatoes that would rival a food pantry for the homeless, but no garlic.  I felt my poor dead Italian grandmother spin in her grave.  This was bad.  No garlic in the house, except (shudder) for some garlic powder.  I felt like a fallen foodie.   I wound up making the thighs with bread crumbs, Parmesan, and rosemary.  They were actually really good, and I'm sharing the recipe here, but I'm haunted by chicken thighs with lemon juice and garlic.  As soon as I get some garlic, I'll let you know how they turn out.

Parmesan Breaded Chicken Thighs

1.   Remove the skin from 8 chicken thighs.  Chicken thighs are fatty enough.  Dredge in thigh in a little olive oil and set aside.

2.   Finely chop about 4 pieces of old bread in a food processor.  OK, you got me--pull out the store bought canister of prepared bread crumbs.  They work just as well.

3.  Add 1/2 cup of grated Parmesan cheese--the stuff in the green jar is  fine.   Save the good stuff for salads, risotto, or pasta.

4.  Add 2 Tbsp dried parsley.  Mix the dried ingredients together thoroughly.

5.  Coat each thigh with the bread crumb mixture and put in a roasting pan.   Bake for 1 hours at 350 degrees.