Presentation is Everything OR How to Sound Like A Ninja in the Kitchen

If you're like me, most of the food you're making at home isn't all that groundbreaking. I've never made a foam (well, not intentionally), or a gelee, or bacon-and-wasabi-and-chocolate ice cream. (Ugh. Bacon.) But guess what? Nobody needs to know that. NOBODY. It's all in how you frame it, folks, and we're gonna frame it in awesome.

Ever notice how at a restaurant things almost always sound much more delicious and complicated, even if it's the simplest thing in the world to make? That is because restaurateurs know that they've gotta sell you on the dish before they can sell it to you, and we're going to take a cue from them. I will illustrate thusly: Perhaps my daughter asks me what we're having for breakfast. I could tell her "pancakes and fruit", or I could tell her "fluffy, warm whole grain pancakes with a drizzle of maple syrup, accompanied by a selection of local seasonal fruits". She's five, so it might not have the desired effect on her, but I know which breakfast I'd choose. Lunch could be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, or it could be "Creamy all-natural peanut butter paired with apricot preserves and generously slathered on two slices of soft whole wheat bread". Tonight, you're not having spaghetti for dinner, you're having "spaghetti imported from Italy enrobed in a rich, sweet marinara sauce".

Or maybe you don't want to describe the dish. Maybe your kids will roll their eyes or your husband's eyes will glaze over before you can even get going. That's okay, I've got you covered, too. Let's just rename the dish, since someone is bound to ask what you're making for dinner. If you're going to rename the dish to take it from "okay" to "ninja", I've found it's important to name several ingredients as well as two or three key flavors, and if you can, a state, country or region of the world. For instance, in our house, we eat a certain noodle dish a lot. I could just call it peanut noodles- that sums it up and my family knows what I'm talking about- but it sounds infinitely better if I call it Chinese sesame-peanut noodles with cucumbers and cilantro. I could make tilapia, lemony rice and green beans (eh), or I could make talapia in a lemon dill sauce with citrus-scented rice and steamed fresh green beans (ninja). You get the idea. Now, go forth and make yourself sound like a kitchen ninja. Perhaps they'll be so impressed someone else will do the dishes.

Cream Soup is Back on the Menu!

Spring has not sprung in these parts.  In fact, today's forecast calls for snow- and in my particular neck of the woods the word "snow" was followed by "feet", not "inches".  So far we've only received a dusting, but I know better than to think we've dodged it.  All this Winter Redux business means one thing to me: it's still a good time for soup.  (Although it's pretty much always a good time for soup- even if it's 105 degrees outside.) 

Me and soup are friends.  Me and creamy soups are really good friends.  BUT.  I care immensely about health and having arteries that are soft and pliable and adept at keeping me alive, so cream-based soups were, for a long time, off the menu.  Until a couple of years ago, when I discovered the great secret of health-conscious cooks who still want a silky, creamy soup in their bowl.  A mind-blowingly simple substitution that I would like to share with you because it's Works for Me Wednesday over at We Are THAT Family.  Are you ready for this?  I mean, really, are you ready?  

Evaporated milk.

I know, why didn't I think of that?  Now, make sure it's evaporated and not sweetened condensed because they are NOT interchangeable.  Also, using the lowest-fat evaporated milk is good, but any you can find will be better than heavy cream.  Did you know that ONE fluid cup of heavy cream has 821 calories and 88 grams of fat?!?!  And think about how much heavy cream is called for in your favorite cream soup recipe.  Yikes.  If you use just plain old evaporated milk, not the low-fat version, you'll cut the fat by more than half.  Use a low-fat version and your arteries will sing your praises.   And your soup will still be creamy and dreamy.  Cross my heart. 

Blog Carnival Virgin No More

It's Works for Me Wednesday over at Rocks in My Dryer, so I thought I'd join in.  

Breakfast is usually not a big deal at our house.  It's often conquered with a few bananas and some yogurt, oatmeal or cereal.  But sometimes it's not so easy.  Sometimes, there are pancakes. Pancakes themselves are not difficult to make, but I hate getting out the griddle and then cleaning the griddle afterward (or the next day if I'm feeling especially resentful toward the blasted thing).  And once there have been pancakes, there is always leftover batter.  

For a long time I didn't know what to do with the leftover batter until one day, a little light went off in my obviously tiny brain.  And this is my WFMW tip: These days, I cook that leftover batter.  Once the unneeded pancakes have cooled, I place sheets of wax or parchment paper between them, pop them in a ziploc bag and put them in the freezer.  Next time the wee one wants pancakes for breakfast and I don't have the time or the will to make them,  I pull a few out of the freezer and heat them up in the microwave.  This leaves me with no annoying griddle to clean, no wasted batter when pancakes are made, no outrageously priced boxed frozen pancakes (with who-knows-what in them),  and best of all, one uber-happy two-year-old. And that DEFINITELY works for me.