A quick Google tells me that vegetarian shepherd's pie is called "shepherdess pie." That upsets me. I don't understand the feminization of healthier foods. Men eat meat, women eat vegetables. It reminds me of this ad for a masculine version of diet soda.
I started this story last week, here, with my vegan garlic mashed potatoes. Mashed potatoes without butter and milk are pretty easy; you use stock instead. This dish has been called "Swanson Mashed Potatoes," so I'm guessing it was Swanson chicken broth's idea. Or they popularized it. But you can do it with vegetable stock* too. I added roasted garlic to make it a bit richer.
It's been a rough couple of days at Saturday's Mouse HQ. So please allow me to complain about the pettiest little thing in the bag-of-ugly-things that the last few days has brought.
Arriving home from work, Sous Chef Brian went to get a beverage from the fridge and discovered the fridge was not working. And immediately left for class.
I stared at it, willed it to cool, and played with the circuit breakers (I just want to say fuses, but I guess that's not right). Then I turned on the dorm fridge we keep in the basement. The dorm fridge is awesome.
My history with southern food is very fake and touristy. When I was little, we lived in The South*, and I like to imagine my earliest meals were all jambalaya and grits, but I'm pretty sure it was more like pbj and fried bologna. I have no legitimate recollection of southern food. I try to cook something cajun-ish each Fat Tuesday, but that started in adulthood.
As an adult, I was introduced to southern food in two great pretend situations. The first was on a business trip, when I was in my late teens. This may even have been pre-Sous Chef Brian. certainly 21 years old. A group of us, 20 or more, went to the fanciest dinner out I'd ever had at the time, at Justin's. Yes, that's Sean 'P. Diddy' Combs' restaurant. He was still Puff Daddy at the time. The drinks were flowing, and I was a grown up, on my first big business trip. I don't recall what I ate, but I remember thinking I was a big fan of soul food. I probably had the popcorn shrimp.
A few years later, Sous Chef Brian and I went to Las Vegas on our honeymoon. In a city where everything is fake, in a week of gondola rides and obligatory time-share presentations, we went to the House of Blues for the "gospel brunch" and ate catfish and collards while people sang and clapped and praised. I loved catfish. I loved collards.
When I came home, several people explained to me the role of catfish in the ecosystem. Feel free to Google that for yourself. So that's out**. But collards, collards stay.
Sous Chef Brian and I "celebrated" our wedding anniversary last week. "Celebrated" in that we had head colds and ate matzo ball soup. But a few days later, I was feeling good enough to make collards, very likely right about on the anniversary of the first time I tried them. Unintentionally though, I really don't have that sort of relationship with greens.
Week 19. Mid-October already!
Doesn't look that way to me. No winter squash, no new and exciting greens, no brussels sprouts. YET.
For now, we have arugula.
Let's keep this one in our thoughts. I opened the bag and said, "Whoa, that's dirty," (absolutely to be expected) and then gave it a bath and it still looked that way. But I haven't tasted it yet.
And of course, my new best friend, Kale. We met over the summer and have been inseparable since.
Spicy greens mix.
Onions.
Potatoes. I have plans for these, if they work out. They arrived damp, which I guess is a shipping hazard, and their skin was starting to peel. I have them in my tater bin* with a dishtowel to absorb moisture.
And more radishes.
I did cook last week, you know. I'll post a recipe tomorrow, promise.
*my tater bin is a wooden box, smaller than a shoebox, in a cabinet in my kitchen. It is very similar to my onion and garlic bin.
It's cool enough now for veggie chili, which is great, because my favorite veggie chili is the one that comes early in chili-season. When you can still get fresh tomatoes and peppers and zucchini, you can make chili that's fresh and bright even while it's warm and cozy.
I foreshadowed this in my pico de gallo post, but I really don't believe in chili recipes (I barely believe in most recipes). The heat of your peppers varies. The actual number of working tomatoes you end up with varies. Maybe you added more cayenne this time. So this is about basic ideas, not a recipe. Maybe this time you add some of this or that and next time you add more, or none. Whatever, it's chili. Beans, tomatoes, spices and then it's up to you.
When I'm making something that's gonna cook for a few hours, I quick-soak my beans.
This is a cup and a half of kidney beans.
