Even easier

I've been dragging my feet with regards to posting these days, but I think I have a good excuse.



It's finally (finally!!!!!!!) summer!

I have had big plans to tell you about rediscovering one of my favorite Chinese cookbook authors, and about The Glory That Is Laundry Day, and of course, we are more than overdue on a Theo update.

But the days are getting brighter, longer, and lazier, and so all I have to offer you today is these.

After finding some winter refuge at the computer, I feel the tug to spend more of my time unplugged and outside. We have too many popsicles to eat and too few days.

Ever since I saw Molly Orangette write about these I have been dreaming about making them. For some reason I thought they were more complicated than they really are. But in fact they are really easy, like boozy pudding (something else I need to tell you about later*) but even easier.

(*ehhh, if you're new around here, I've talked about it plenty on the old food blog with Stephie. You're welcome. So embarrassing.)

Anyway, without further ado, and so that I can get back to laying out on the deck, here are the fudgsicles you need in your life today.

Fudgsicles
adapted from Orangette

If you're fancy, you should definitely read up on Molly's recipe to get all the details about chocolate, because she's obviously thought it through. I've tried to keep it simple and easy here, and it's more for my reference to make it again. She also called for heavy cream and milk; I had lots of half and half so I've simplified it here. Obviously, you can use your brain and do things differently.

8 oz chocolate chips (preferably mixed in with some bittersweet, but don't go all dark)
2 1/2 cups half and half
2 T unsweetened cocoa powder
2 t vanilla extract, or (spiced) rum since vanilla extract costs a million dollars these days

Heat up half and half on the stove with cocoa powder, whisking to dissolve. Remove pan from heat, and after a minute, dump chocolate chips into the pan, whisking until it's all incorporated. Add in vanilla extract and then pour into popsicle molds. Freeze until hard.

P.S. Comment below with a caption for the second picture in this post. The winner gets a fudgsicle!

The life-changing magic of Vietnamese noodle bowls

It's Wednesday again and I can't think of anything we ate this week that was really noteworthy.



I blame KonMari, which has been slowly but surely taking over our house. Giggle all you want but I (and David!) have been delightfully surprised by how addicting it is to follow her method. (There's lots of stuff on the web about it but this was a favorite essay.)

Yes, I really need three mustard yellow scarves.

So far we've done clothes, books (gasp!), papers, and some komono.

In light of that, there hasn't been that much time for cooking, so I'll just share a regular standby that serves us well whenever we need a quick dinner. Sometime in our first year of marriage, we discovered our favorite Vietnamese noodle bowl at The Backdoor Kitchen on San Juan Island. We loved the bright, lime-y dressing (dressing is really too heavy of a word to describe what this is though) and we spent most of the meal (as we often do when we are out) dissecting the rest of the dish.



Normally I don't like places that do fusion, but I think that Northwest restaurants often do a good job of it. In fact despite the PNW being full of great Viet restaurants, the Backdoor's bún has been the best I've tasted, since most of the aforementioned Viet restaurants - though they serve a rockin' bowl of phó - often sweeten their nuoc cham to the point of cloying.

We love that this dish works well with any kind of leftover meat - rotisserie chicken from Costco or leftover steak - or even no meat at all.

Tofu works great, obvs, and in a pinch even hard-boiled eggs will do.

It can be simple or fancy but what we think makes it really special is when you make the effort to buy the herbs (especially mint) and roast peanuts fresh to serve on top. Here's an outline of a recipe.

Vietnamese Noodle Bowl

• For the dressing: Squeeze one lime into a bowl. Add 1-2 T of brown sugar and about 6-8 T of water. Stir and taste. You're looking for it to taste like a very dilute limeade. Then add one medium garlic clove, minced, and 1 fresh Thai chile, also minced, if you have it. Finally, add 2-3 T fish sauce. 
• Bring to boil a pot of water and cook 8 oz rice noodles (you want the cylindrical noodles often labeled "bun gao"). When they are tender (take one out and taste it, they can be deceptive), drain them and rinse them cold. If you want to be super fancy, you can lay them out on a dishtowel and get them really dry. David likes this method because it makes the dressing even more concentrated. I still go the lazy way and think it tastes just fine.
• Prep all your desired veggies. We usually do romaine, sliced thin. Cucumbers are a must. Carrots are great but I can feel lazy about making them pretty (the best would be to julienne them on a mandoline). Any other vegetables would be great; radish would be especially pretty. 
• For herbs, pick your favorite few from this list: green onions, cilantro, Thai basil, mint, dill
• Prep meat in bite-sized servings.
• Roast 1/2 cup peanuts and crush in a mortar and pestle.
• Let everyone make their own salad at the table and dress as they see fit.

---

And now for the reason you even read this blog at all.

Theo

• is still 2 years old.
• replied, upon being asked by David if he wanted to go out with him on some errands, "No. Stay home. Eat food. Watch show." Boy after my own heart.
• used the word "combine" as a noun. I seriously did not know that word until high school when we had to read One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I'm still not sure I even know what they are now. 

How did my baby become a boy?

 Emilyn

• turns 20 weeks today.
• still loves to roll.
• has started to giggle more.
• is most definitely teething. There is lots of drool and she was even cranky this week. 
• slept before 9pm six out of seven nights this past weekend. W00t.

David and Lisa

• are still super enamored by The Life-changing Magic of Tidying Up. Want your life transformed? Apply: (1) the gospel, (2) Dave Ramsey, (3) KonMari. No joke. 

Blame the food

As promised, I'm here to tell you about ratatouille.

It's terrible, I know, that I don't have a picture of the final product, but that's mostly because it doesn't last very long on the table.

I'm blaming the ratatouille.

I'm not even going to post the recipe here, because the original is perfect as written. Francis Lam (it's Lam, right?) is a hilarious recipe writer. I once heard someone say that it's like he's standing right there in the kitchen with you.

(Wouldn't we all like our moms to be there while we cook? "How much of [ingredient of choice] should I use-- like, is this enough?)

So check it out.

However, if I were to dare add anything to his perfect recipe, I would say that if you can get your hands on Chinese eggplant, use that instead. 

I also dared to say I would make it with eggplant only-- "I don't care for zucchini or summer squash," I said at the dining table, but then I got a look from one of our guests. I'm an anomaly, I guess, but, if you are weird like me, too, just know that everything - even zucchini - gets an amazing lift when roasted at 450 degrees. 

Yes, I ate a few of them right off the roasting pan, like chips. But in my defense, they do shrink a lot when roasted. (All that evaporation is what concentrates that delicious flavor.) 

That's my excuse, at least. 'Cause it's so much easier to blame food than to take responsibility.

Do we do anything around here other than eat?

Nope. Now, stay away from my bottle.