Look, I can own from the starting line that I am a wimp when it comes to being sick. That’s why I’m so proud of myself for bearing the Burn Ordeal so well. But the thing most men, all married men in fact I’m betting, save one or two with really mean, drunk wives, don’t understand is that having the stomach flu and working a 10 hour day after coming back from 24 hours of total stomach flu misery and then thinking of having to go to the store to buy those tomato soup and grilled cheese makings – the only thing that sounds even vaguely palatable and after a day of one donut and one orange section – that prospect just is, well, it just wants to make me cry.
See, these men (my bosses here in Corporania) all have wives at home. If their wives get sick they stop off and buy them their tomato soup, and maybe even make it for them. If they get sick their wives certainly make it for them. And really, I would have been happy if I could have just worked nine hours and had that little jump start that would have put me at the store and maybe even home before dark.
But no, see, there’s this directive that we all have to work 10 hours every single day. And there was a memo, and the memo stated quite clearly that no one could work less than that without permission from Himself. And really, truly, if the company hadn’t gotten itself in this position through very poor management, and if they would let us hire the people we’ve been saying we needed for the last two years, then everyone could work eight hours and all would be well. But it’s their fault. And the icing on the cake is that, in my department, we’re not behind. We never are. But we still have to work the overtime because upper management only looks at the numbers, and if our little three or four people (we’ve been short one for several months because they haven’t let us replace the one who quit, even though we interviewed) don’t do the overtime it pulls the overtime numbers stats down for the larger department.
OK, all that said. You get my bitchy drift. But the main point is, these managers are men. They don’t know what it’s like to be sick and have to fend for themselves totally. All I want to do is leave early so I can get to the store before dark and get a little rest for my fluey body before tomorrow comes and here I am again.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
French Thanksgiving Touches
It's less than a week until Thanksgiving, menu planning is in full swing, and as usual my determination to KISS (keep it simple stupid: turkey, oyster and non-oyster dressing, roasted root veggies, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, slaw, corn casserole, cranberries, pumpkin pie, cherry pie, tiramisu) is under erosion from the torrent of fabulous recipes I somehow encounter during the course of a typical day. Steely resolve is mine, however, and so far I have succumbed to only one gully leading to the weediness of our traditional wildly straining-under-the-bounty holiday table. But I still haven't received from my kids their dishes of choice requests. In the mean time, since I know you want to add a touch of French country savory goodness to your own table, here is the magical tempress of a dish that's led me off the path of KISS. If you know me, you know that by the end, unless my discipline is well-tempered and it usually isn't, I will have added several "small, simple little touches" and the menu will have doubled (actually the tiramisu was the first sign of erosion -- the recipe in the latest Cooks Illustrated was just too tempting to ignore). And now it's this Chestnut-fennel purée (Purée de châtaignes au fenouil) from Le Jardins Francais : http://www.frenchgardening.com/cuisine.html.
Chestnut-fennel purée (Purée de châtaignes au fenouil)
3 lbs. fresh chestnuts
2 medium heads fennel, bruised and tough parts removed, sliced in sixths
1 tsp. fennel seed (wild fennel seed if possible)*
4 T. unsalted butter
1/2 c. crème fraîche
Salt and pepper
*Wild fennel seeds are smaller than the usual variety, nearly black in color, and incredibly flavorful.
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.
Cut a slit across the rounded side of each chestnut and place them on a baking sheet. Roast for 20-30 minutes, until peelable (they don't have to be perfectly tender.)
Cover the chestnuts with a towel to keep them hot while you peel them. If they cool, the inner skin won't come off. (If the skin refuses to come off a few of them, don't throw them out. You'll be able to remove it after the next step.)*
Place the peeled chestnuts and the fennel and fennel seeds in a heavy saucepan and just cover them with water. Add a good pinch of salt. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat to medium low and simmer until the chestnuts and the fennel are very tender.
Keep the pot covered to conserve the cooking liquid.
Drain the chestnuts and fennel over a bowl, reserving the cooking liquid. Remove any skin that is still clinging to the chestnuts or has come loose among the vegetables. Pass the vegetables through the fine blade of a food mill back into the saucepan. Add the butter and crème fraîche and whisk until incorporated. Then whisk in enough of the flavorful cooking liquid to make the mixture nearly pourable, or to a consistency that pleases you.**
Note that the purée will thicken as it stands, so don't throw out any remaining cooking liquid until serving time. Correct the seasoning with flakes of sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.
*The technique of roasting the chestnuts before peeling, and then boiling them with the fennel allows you to develop the delicious cooking liquor essential to the flavor of this dish. Boiling the chestnuts in their shells and then peeling makes peeling more difficult in my experience. Reboiling them after peeling gives a less flavorful result. And you can't use the liquid from boiling them in their shells because it has an acrid taste.
**You can reduce the amount of butter and cream if you desire by increasing the amount of cooking liquid you incorporate into the purée. The result will be less unctuous but still flavorful.
Note: This is the most delicious puree I've ever tasted. It's worth the effort, and unfortunately using vacuum-packed chestnuts seriously diminishes the result. A guaranteed star of the Thanksgiving table. You probably won't have leftovers, but if you do, thin them with homemade chicken broth for a fabulous soup.
Chestnut-fennel purée (Purée de châtaignes au fenouil)
3 lbs. fresh chestnuts
2 medium heads fennel, bruised and tough parts removed, sliced in sixths
1 tsp. fennel seed (wild fennel seed if possible)*
4 T. unsalted butter
1/2 c. crème fraîche
Salt and pepper
*Wild fennel seeds are smaller than the usual variety, nearly black in color, and incredibly flavorful.
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.
Cut a slit across the rounded side of each chestnut and place them on a baking sheet. Roast for 20-30 minutes, until peelable (they don't have to be perfectly tender.)
Cover the chestnuts with a towel to keep them hot while you peel them. If they cool, the inner skin won't come off. (If the skin refuses to come off a few of them, don't throw them out. You'll be able to remove it after the next step.)*
Place the peeled chestnuts and the fennel and fennel seeds in a heavy saucepan and just cover them with water. Add a good pinch of salt. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat to medium low and simmer until the chestnuts and the fennel are very tender.
Keep the pot covered to conserve the cooking liquid.
Drain the chestnuts and fennel over a bowl, reserving the cooking liquid. Remove any skin that is still clinging to the chestnuts or has come loose among the vegetables. Pass the vegetables through the fine blade of a food mill back into the saucepan. Add the butter and crème fraîche and whisk until incorporated. Then whisk in enough of the flavorful cooking liquid to make the mixture nearly pourable, or to a consistency that pleases you.**
Note that the purée will thicken as it stands, so don't throw out any remaining cooking liquid until serving time. Correct the seasoning with flakes of sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.
*The technique of roasting the chestnuts before peeling, and then boiling them with the fennel allows you to develop the delicious cooking liquor essential to the flavor of this dish. Boiling the chestnuts in their shells and then peeling makes peeling more difficult in my experience. Reboiling them after peeling gives a less flavorful result. And you can't use the liquid from boiling them in their shells because it has an acrid taste.
**You can reduce the amount of butter and cream if you desire by increasing the amount of cooking liquid you incorporate into the purée. The result will be less unctuous but still flavorful.
Note: This is the most delicious puree I've ever tasted. It's worth the effort, and unfortunately using vacuum-packed chestnuts seriously diminishes the result. A guaranteed star of the Thanksgiving table. You probably won't have leftovers, but if you do, thin them with homemade chicken broth for a fabulous soup.
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