Wow, those bananas are gross.

So when I got back from Austin, I found what looked like two month old bananas in my freezer. What surprised me the most is that they actually were two month old bananas that Christine had bagged and popped in amongst my 8,000 Aldi chicken breasts. Most people would view this as a cruel and fruit fly infested practical joke. I, being the magnanimous person that I am, saw it as an opportunity to make lots and lots of banana bread. Which I did. Using this recipe, courtesy of the lovely Christine. Of course I didn't have most of the ingredients in the house, be aware that you can replace rum-soaked raisins with vodka-soaked cranberries (or probably any sort of alcohol-soaked dried fruit) and pumpkin seeds for crushed peanuts (always fun to smash things). And what the hell, throw in a third banana. You know you have one!

Tonight I shall attempt to make another loaf with a different recipe. I will recommend this one as well. It was my first attempt at banana bread and pretty solid. Now if only I had a kitchen timer so I didn't leave things in 15 minutes too long. Hrm.

Minephoney

So tonight, I decided to celebrate my triumphant return to the Champaign-Urbana area by creating a tasty meal for the lovely Christine, who amused me with Spring Break (Spring Break!) stories while I made for her a partially made-up concoction that originally came from this recipe, but became a strange hybrid because of my lack of several essential ingredients. Thus, below follows the directions for what has been dubbed "Minephoney". It is delicious. Screw Food Network. (Wait! No! Not really! Giada, I want to marry you and bear your parmesan-encrusted children! Come back!)

--

"Minephoney"

2 tablespoons olive oil (or basil-infused olive oil, if you're cool like me and own it.)
2 carrots, peeled, chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
6 garlic cloves, minced
1 package baby spinach
1 cup white rice
2 cups water
1 (14 1/2-ounce) can diced tomatoes
1 tbp dried rosemary
1 tsp onion powder
1 (15-ounce) can white beans, drained, rinsed
2 (14-ounce) cans low-sodium chicken broth
1 ounce freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 pound shrimp, shelled, deveined
1/4 cup chopped fresh Italian parsley leaves
Salt and pepper

Heat the oil in a heavy large pot over medium heat. Add the carrots, celery, and garlic. Saute about 7 minutes. Add the spinach, rice, and water; saute for about 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes, onion powder, and rosemary. Simmer until the spinach is wilted and the tomatoes break down, about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, blend 3/4 cup of the beans with 1/4 cup of the broth in a processor until almost smooth. Add the pureed bean mixture, remaining broth, and Parmesan cheese rind to the vegetable mixture. Simmer until the rice is tender, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes. Stir in the whole beans, shrimp, and parsley. Simmer until the shrimp are cooked and the soup is thick, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, to taste.

Ladle the soup into bowls and serve.

Mushrooms are for grinding

The question, dear readers, is who names their child Wolfgang? Firstly (and thus foremostly) a group of wolves is a pack, not a gang. And if it were a gang, I have a hard time viewing it as anymore than a West Side Story kind of gang with the black combs and the dancing and the spontaneity of song. Something tells me people named Wolfgang do not do this. Even when animated and put into Disney movies.

Regardless, Mr. Wolfgang Puck (I do like the hockey-liciousness of that last name though) does have a pretty fabulous recipe for mushroom soup, which can be found here. I suppose my ludicrous number of links to the Food Network belies my daytime obsession, but really, who can resist the charms of women doing women's work. (That was the RHET student in me coming out. Remember, since the dawn of time, men have been different than women.)

With said soup Christine made a pretty damn fabulous cake made of miscellaneous root vegetables and some other stuff. (She can tell you about that one.)

Other things made in my kitchen recently --

- Pizza Rustica -- "It feels like angels are making love on my tongue." -Carl

- Turkey Tonnato -- You put what on what? And did I just have to buy anchovy paste. Yes, yes I did.

- Brown Sugar Chewies -- I was actually supermodel thin before these. Really, I have pictures!

Lazy Sunday

This morning, Christine slept in. Then she woke up to snow and ice hitting her window. Then she decided, I must make German pancakes. What are German pancakes, you ask? Do they include marzipan? Do they use sauerkraut as a base? Do they involve liters of bier? No, Christine would tell you. Oh no.

They are a puffy custard onto which one squirts fresh lemon juice, then sprinkles powdered sugar. Then, this lucky one drinks black coffee and noshes, perhaps, on fresh cantelope and grapes. Who cares about snow, Christine thought gleefully after devouring half a pie plate's worth of pancake.

Because Christine loves you, dear reader, she has included the recipe below. My husband's family introduced me to these. They demanded that I make them when I was a new bride, and though I was intimidated, I won them over with my mad skillz. I beat a good egg.

Classic German Pancakes (serves 4 well)

8 eggs
1 c. half and half
1/2 c. milk
2 c. flour
1/2 c. XXX sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla
Lemon juice, melted butter, sifted XXX sugar

Preheat oven to 475 degrees.
Beat eggs with a whisk, then add half and half and milk. In a separate bowl, combine flour, sugar and salt. Add dry ingredients to egg mixtures, and beat ingredients until smooth.
Pour into well greased pie tins or oven-safe, slope sided round pans by 1/2 cup for 7 inch and 1 cup into 9 inch pans (I used one 9-inch pie plate, one 2.5 quart casserole, and one 1.5 quart casserole).
Once in oven do not open door.
Bake until lightly golden (20-25 minutes). Carefully remove with hot pan holders. Serve immediately, topping with melted butter, XXX sugar and lemon juice or fruit compote as desired.