The “I Need Help” Sandwich

Not just a sandwich

This is a sandwich, a banh mi sandwich, made by Chip, the dude of chickdudefood. It’s not even the sandwich at the heart of this story, but that one was too delicious to take a picture of.

It started like this: Chip makes an incredible, and I mean out-of-this-world BLT. It’s so amazing, and his process for making it so precise, that I wrote a poem about it…that won’t be shared here. I’ve seen him take 45 minutes to get this sandwich to a place that he deems mouth-ready. It involves getting a lot of things exactly right: the kind of bread and how it’s toasted, the amount of mayo, the seitan bacon layered just so, the peeled tomato sliced a certain way, the placement of the must-be-Boston-or-butter lettuce, the salt, the pepper, the final pinch of a secret ingredient that maybe he’ll write about some day.

Anyway, this sandwich usually gets constructed late at night when Chip gets home from work. The smells that come up from the kitchen will wake me from a sound sleep and propel me downstairs in my pjs, with pillow hair and sleepy eyes, just for the chance of a taste, or just to watch something so beautiful get made and consumed. (I know, I’m a little strange about food.) There’s been deep analysis of what makes this sandwich so great, and he thinks he knows, but again, that’s his recipe to share.

About a month ago, maybe a little more, Chip made this BLT at an actual mealtime. For himself. In every possible way I could think of, I took a sidelong approach—to see if I could get him to make one for me. I tried everything, that is, except simply asking for one. He finally turned to me, while he was peeling the tomato, and asked me if I wanted one. You know the answer.

Here’s how this ties in to the “Life” part of this blog. If I can’t ask for a sandwich, how can I ask for help? And if I can’t ask for help, how can I be fully in recovery? Because the truth is, I can’t do this alone. I do need help.

We talk a lot, my friends and I, about how hard it is to ask for help. For me, whose identity was for so long completely dependent on being perceived as strong, as self-reliant and self-sufficient, as perfect as I could be, it’s nearly impossible. My response to difficult emotions or stress or whatever has, in the past, been to isolate myself, pull the covers over my head, and drink or take something until I felt I could face the world again. Sometimes that took hours—sometimes days or weeks or months—and, by the end, I was pretty much silent, alone, miserable, and desperate.

Asking for help makes you vulnerable. Being vulnerable is insanely painful. If you’ve ever been hurt, and we all have, it takes a leap of faith to put yourself and whatever is going on—shame, guilt, confusion, sadness, anxiety—whatever it is—in front of someone else and say the words “I need help.”

It takes courage and practice—to raise my hand at meetings and at home, to share the sorrows and puzzles of my life along with the joys—stories of gratitude are easier to tell. I’m getting a little better at this, slowly, and with the support of my community. I’m slightly more likely to be able to ask for help as freely as I give it.  (Giving?  That’s simple.) I’m trying to give up the facade of strength and self-sufficiency and perfection, because they are destructive and unattainable.  I’m allowing myself to be a mess, when I’m a mess.  And it turns out that I’m surrounded by people who also struggle to ask for help, but who show me how to do it and that it’s safe and that help will be freely given to me.

So last night when Chip said there was probably one more garden tomato to be turned into an October BLT, I said, “Will you make one for me, too?” Straight out, direct, face to face, with eye contact. And so I will get what I want—my reward for asking—an out-of-this-world BLT that is, for me, more than just a sandwich.

Thai Chili Pepper & Lemon Pepper Jelly

Pepper JellyIn anticipation (and maybe a little dread) of making jelly with our Ghost Peppers (Scoville scale: One MILLION units)—we experimented with two other very hot peppers from the garden. Don’t ask us why we grew so many of these. Because, like Mount Everest, they’re there? We do like heat—but some of these, especially the Ghost Peppers, are lethal weapons.

We began with the Thai Chili Peppers—Scoville scale: about 100,000 units—looking to figure out what ratio of pepper to sugar would be hot enough, not too hot, and not too sweet. And it’s always a little bit of a guessing game with pectin, so it got messed with, too.

Start by preparing your jars according to the canner manufacturer’s directions. This will include washing the jars and sterilizing the lids. Have everything clean and ready to go, with a hot water bath on the simmer—this recipe doesn’t take long to put together, and you want to be able to plunge the jars into boiling water right away. (Note—it’s worth it to buy a real canner and accessories—they’re not very expensive and will last a lifetime.)

For the Thai Chili Pepper jelly:

Ingredients:

  • 10 ripe peppers (they’re small but potent), washed, seeds and stems removed
  • 2 large red bell peppers, washed, seeds and stems removed, coarsely chopped
  • 2 cups apple cider vinegar, divided
  • 6 cups sugar
  • 1 packet (3 oz) liquid pectin

Directions:

  • Puree peppers and 1 cup vinegar in blender. Be smart, wear protective gloves when handling the peppers, and a facemask from the hardware store is a good idea too—the fumes can sting.
  • Combine the puree, 1 cup vinegar and the sugar in a saucepan.
  • Bring to a rolling boil and boil for 10 minutes, stirring constantly. Be careful, this mixture can easily boil over.
  • Stir in pectin and return to a rolling boil for 1 minute.
  • Remove from stove and skim foam, if any. Adding the pectin seemed to eliminate the foam in our test.
  • Ladle the hot jelly into clean hot jars, leaving 1/4 inch head space. We used 4 oz jars and filled 12 of them, with some jelly mixture left over.
  • Adjust the caps and process 10 minutes in boiling water in your canner—make sure that jars don’t touch, and if you live at higher elevations, follow adjusted directions.
  • Let set at room temperature for 24 hours out of drafts. If a jar doesn’t vacuum seal, pop it in the fridge to use right away.
  • Store for up to 1 year.

This jelly is good, even delicious, but a bit too sweet and not really as spicy as we’d like. It’s a little bland. Next time, we’ll use more peppers, less sugar, and perhaps a little something else, like orange zest or grated ginger. We worried that this jelly was a bit thin—we might have been a bit light on pectin.

We tried to amp things up with the lemon peppers. Although they rank lower on the Scoville scale, at about 50,000 units, they release a lot of choke-worthy peppery essence into the air, and their taste is distinctively, well, yellow. The directions are the same—just the ingredients changed, slightly.

Ingredients:

  • 8 ripe peppers (they’re larger than the Thai Chilis), washed, seeds and stems removed
  • 2 large yellow bell peppers, washed, seeds and stems removed, coarsely chopped
  • 2 cups apple cider vinegar, divided
  • 6 cups sugar
  • 2 packets (6 oz) liquid pectin

Otherwise, proceed as with the Thai Chili recipe. This batch was also a success—but again, too sweet and a little bland. Next time we’ll be bolder in the number of hot peppers used in both recipes—and will perhaps increase the number of bell peppers, too, so that the essence of pepper is what comes through, not so much the sugar.

Still, no complaints from family and friends on these—they complement just about anything, from a breakfast frittata to chicken, steak, lamb—and we’re happy to have them.  Plus, they look like jewels when the sun shines through the jars.

Pepper prep

Slow Roasted Salmon with Lemon Green Beans, Tomato Water and Basil Quinoa

Slow Roasted SalmonWith this meal, I was trying to think of inventive ways to use the fantastic heirloom tomatoes that we have from the garden.

I was making Canadian bacon and tomato sandwiches with fennel pollen mayo for lunch (that’s another post.) One of the tomatoes was so juicy it fell apart while I was trying to slice it. It still tasted amazing so I put the tomato and all the juice in a container and started pondering what could be done with it.

Tomato Water and Basil Quinoa

1/2 cup tomato water (I used the liquid left on the plate after slicing several tomatoes.)
1 1/2 cups vegetable stock
1 cup quinoa
1/2 cup chopped heirloom tomatoes
1/3 cup chopped fresh basil
3 pinches fleur de sel
5 grinds penja pepper

Put tomato water, vegetable stock and quinoa in a sauce pan and bring to a vigorous boil.  Reduce the heat to simmer, cover and cook for 12 to 15 minutes until quinoa is tender but not mushy and the liquid is mostly absorbed.  Remove from heat and add the tomato, basil and seasoning.  Give it a stir and serve.

Lemon Green Beans

1 tbsp good butter
2 tbsp good olive oil
2 tsp dark brown sugar
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 large garlic clove finely chopped
1 small shallot finely chopped
2 lbs fresh green beans
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp grains of paradise

Blanch the green beans in boiling water for 3-4 minutes then put in an ice bath to stop the cooking.  Drain and set aside.  Put the butter and oil in a large deep skillet over medium high heat.  When the butter melts stir it together with the oil and add the garlic and shallots.  Cook for 3 minutes or until they become fragrant and soft.  Add the green beans, brown sugar, lemon juice, then the salt, pepper and grains of paradise.  Toss together for a few minutes then keep warm on low heat until ready to serve.

Slow Roasted Salmon

1 2lb salmon fillet, skin on, scaled, pin bones removed
olive oil
gray salt
cayenne pepper
penja pepper (also known as “Pearl of Cameroon”)

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees F.  Coat a shallow baking dish with olive oil and place the salmon in the dish, skin side down.  Season with salt, cayenne, and penja pepper, and drizzle with olive oil.  Place in the middle rack of the oven for 12 minutes; the salmon will be just cooked through and medium rare–cook it a few more minutes if you like it medium.  Peel off the skin, which should come off easily.  Transfer to a serving plate and cover until serving.

All three of these dishes have about the same cooking time, so it’s pretty easy to have everything ready together.  Kate and Jack said these were the best green beans they had ever tasted.  I must admit, this whole meal was really delicious.  Try it and tell us about it.

Grilled vegetables and couscous for a crowd

Chip at the grill 2This week, ChickDudeFood went to visit friends on Cape Cod–friends who have 5 kids.  We weren’t the only houseguests–there was another parent there with his 3–and they’re vegetarians.  Well, in exchange for a beautiful place to stay on Herring Pond in Eastham, with our choice of kayaks and paddleboards and sailboats, what could we say?  “We’ll cook dinner tomorrow.”  Or, to be more accurate, I said that, and, to his great credit, Chip didn’t flinch.

Not everybody goes to the supermarket on the prettiest day of the summer, but there we were in the early afternoon, checking out the produce section.  Our original plan was to make a white miso marinade for the veggies–a really delicious and reliable recipe–but there was no miso of any kind in the resort market.  So here’s what we left with:

  • A bag of lemons–about 12 lemons
  • A bottle of good olive oil–about 4 cups
  • Fresh thyme
  • Fresh oregano
  • Crumbled goat cheese
  • Crumbled blue cheese
  • Grated romano cheese
  • Israeli large-grain couscous–enough to make a dozen portions
  • Vegetable stock–about 8 cups
  • 3 multigrain baguettes

And vegetables. Lots of them:

  • Onions
  • Eggplant
  • Zucchini
  • Asparagus
  • Yellow bell peppers
  • Red bell peppers
  • Poblano peppers
  • Portobello mushrooms

When we got back to the house, the music went on, and I started slicing while Chip got the marinade started.  (Note to selves:  from now on, when the ChickDudeFood show goes on the road, take good knives–and/or maybe the mandoline, if there’s going to be a crowd.  This was a bit of a slicing nightmare–it took a couple of hours to get everything ready.)

I cut the veggies lengthwise, except for the asparagus, mushrooms, and poblano peppers, which were left whole for easier handling on the grill.

There wasn’t a recipe for the marinade–and it ran out about ¾ of the way through the grilling.  Chip used the same ingredients and made it again…and it was different, of course, but just as good the second time.  Here’s a rough approximation of what he came up with:

Ingredients:

  • Lemon juice
  • Oil
  • Cayenne pepper (which was already on the shelves)
  • Brown sugar (ditto)
  • Garlic (ditto)
  • Fresh thyme
  • Fresh oregano
  • Freshly ground black pepper (we’re thankful that vacation houses are now often stocked with salt and pepper grinders.  It’s better when it’s fresh.)

Generally, a marinade will be 3 parts acid to 1 part oil, where a vinaigrette goes the other way–3 parts oil to 1 part acid.  This one was more on the vinaigrette side of things–but that’s ok, vinaigrettes make fine marinades, especially for vegetables.

Start with some oil, then squeeze a bunch of lemons to make lemon juice.  Add the lemon juice to taste, along with a couple of cloves of chopped or smashed garlic, pepper, thyme, oregano, cayenne (which adds a nice bit of heat) and a little bit of brown sugar (which takes the edge off the acidity.)  Keep tasting until you have something you (and your co-cook, if you have one) want to have more of.

We were short on time, and wanted a “make your own” presentation, so we didn’t really marinate the vegetables–instead, we took each vegetable and shook it up with the marinade and put it on the grill immediately.  As food came off the grill, it went onto its own platter and everything cooled to room temperature.

I made the couscous in advance (cooking it in the vegetable broth to add flavor) and kept it warm in the oven, along with the baguettes.

Presentation was simple:  everything on the table, followed by a free-or-all while everyone chose their favorite vegetables.  The poblanos turned out to be hotter than expected, and the cheese selection added variety.  Some people skipped the couscous and made veggie sandwiches with cheese.  Everybody had seconds.  It was gratifying to see so many vegetables welcomed by so many kids (8!) and nobody complained that there wasn’t any animal protein.

We also put out a green salad with summer tomatoes and cucumbers, with bottled dressing from the cupboard, but that was overkill. The grilled vegetables with couscous and cheese and baguettes–more than enough to go around–served eight kids, five adults, one au pair (who was very relieved she got the night off cooking)–and everyone was full and happy.  Chip and Michelle and I then went out to listen to NRBQ band members in their new incarnation, but that’s a post (with snarky remarks about how some drunken white people dance, or fail to dance) for another day.

Grilled veggies 1

How do you write a title for a relapse?

IMG_1530

I was a witness as a friend tore into a relapse last night.  I suspected this was happening–it’s happened before–but he told me only a few weeks ago that all was well.  This was obviously, and publicly, a lie.  There couldn’t be a better defined example of powerlessness than standing by while someone you care about suffers, knowing there’s absolutely nothing you can say or do that will get through to that person in that moment, or maybe ever.  I was sad and angry and scared and helpless all at once–maybe the same cluster of feelings were going on in him, who knows?

I walked away and went home, having decided to not be part of the drama this time.  Other choices, perhaps more courageous or more selfless ones, might have been to let his family know he was in bad shape, or to have driven him to a safe place.  But I was afraid of his aggressiveness and of the part of me that’s just like him,  and so I just had to get out of there.

And then came a night of remorseful dreams and a dark start to today…which I was able to deflect by writing and counting my blessings–my usual way out of morning gloom.  He and I came into a rehab program together one day apart, 14 or so months ago.  Almost immediately, he was able to see into me and was key in getting me to get honest with myself, and I’ll always love him and be grateful to him for that.  I wish it had been mutual.  I’ve reached out to him in words and actions but he’s on his own path and it’s painfully clear that right now, nothing and nobody is getting through.

After our last clash, three months ago now, which was also driven by a relapse, I decided to let him go as a friend and as a fellow traveler in recovery. But that turned out to be not so easy last night, when I could look into his eyes–this man I’ve shared so much with–and could see his face and could put my arms around him in a familiar once-meant-something hug.

I’m not proud that I recoiled.  I wish I had a sense of what is or what would have been the right thing to do.  I don’t have any answers today.

How the Garden Grows

IMG_0769.JPG So It’s been about two and a half months since we started our gardening experiment and we just harvested our first tomato! (Tasty!)

The planting tub system we purchased is working really well. Some of the plants are well over 6 feet tall and all of them have tomatoes. We did lose one plant, a green zebra. It was sharing a tub with a hillbilly, a cherokee, and boxcar willie so maybe it was suicide. (Those are real tomato plant names.)

We have had a few scares/challenges in the form of fungus, blossom rot, and heavy winds. So with natural remedies and packing tape we have cured and secured our precious plants to the fruit-bearing stage of their lives.

Now that there is likely to be an abundance of tomatoes and hot peppers in the next few weeks, we are thinking of all the ways to use them. Some experiments with pickling, confit, and sauces are on the agenda so far. Let us know if you have any ideas on what else to try.

Playlist, week of August 3

I’ve been in a trance dance, techno disco kind of mood, which always brings on a binge of Chromeo.  Chip, the indie rock guy in the house, rolls his eyes at me…but then, sometimes, when I’m really lucky, breaks out his dance moves.  This is NOT Chip dancing.  I mean, this guy is good, but Chip makes me laugh.

 

Baked halibut with rainbow carrots and mizuna, artichoke ravioli

Farmers market closeupThe farmer’s market comes to Arlington every Wednesday. I rarely have a chance to get to it because I don’t get home in time–but last week was an exception. This is a non-recipe recipe, because I made it up as I went along, inspired by the beauty of the carrots and the desire for something quick.  Really quick.

Ingredients:
1 lb. fresh halibut
A handful of baby rainbow carrots, each about the size of my pinky
A bunch of mizuna
1 lb. fresh artichoke ravioli

For the vegetables:
Chop the carrots into tiny rounds. Coarsely chop the mizuna. Saute them together in some high-quality olive oil for about 5 minutes until everything is tender.

For the fish:
Preheat oven to 350. Put the fish skin side down on some foil on a baking dish. Add a little butter and your best salt, along with some pepper or grains of paradise, and bake until just cooked through—about 10 minutes per inch.

For the pasta:
Heat water to boiling and add the pasta. They’re done in just a few minutes.

Once everything was plated up, I topped the pasta with some fresh goat cheese. As you can see, I might have taken more trouble with the presentation, but I was HUNGRY. Time from market to table? Less than an hour.

Curried Corn Chowder with Mussels and Cilantro

Corn chowder

This is a show-stopper dish to serve to guests, and it takes almost no work beyond mincing the garlic and chopping the cilantro. You can vary the spice level by playing with the amount of curry paste; this version is mild and summery. The sugar is entirely optional, since the corn adds sweetness. If you use frozen corn, try to get roasted corn, which is rich and nutty. Total time from prep to bowl—about 30 minutes.

Ingredients:

  • 6 lbs of mussels, scrubbed and de-bearded
  • 2 13 ½ oz. cans unsweetened coconut milk
  • 3 Tbs. Thai red or green curry paste
  • 3 Tbs. minced garlic
  • 5 limes
  • 2 Tbs. fish sauce
  • 2 packages frozen corn or 4 ears of corn, cooked and cut off the husk
  • 1 Tbs. sugar, optional
  • 3 cups cilantro, roughly chopped

Juice the limes, you will have about ½ cup. Bring the coconut milk, curry paste, garlic, fish sauce, lime juice, sugar, and corn to a boil in a pan large enough to hold the mussels. Cook the liquid for two to three minutes, then add the mussels, cover tightly, and steam until the mussels open, about six to eight minutes. Check frequently and stir everything up from time to time.

When the mussels open, toss into a bowl and add the cilantro. Serve with a green salad and crusty bread for sopping up the broth.

Serves 6-8

Watermelon and tomato salad with (pine) nuts and (goat) cheese

Watermelon tomato saladSay hi to summer.

ingredients

  • some handfuls of 1-2 inch chunks of seedless watermelon
  • a more or less equal amount of ripe tomatoes, cored and cut into 1-2 inch chunks
  • grey salt, kosher salt, fleur de sel, or salt of your choice, to taste
  • 3-5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1 1/2 tablespoons balsamic or other vinegar of your choice
  • 1 cup tablespoons chopped assorted fresh herbs (such as dill, basil, mint, chervil, tarragon, fennel fronds). The important thing is to use only fresh herbs.
  • a bunch of cups fresh tatsoi, arugula, or watercress, or a combination of all three, about 3 cups
  • some crumbled goat cheese or other cheese that you like
  • some pine nuts, very lightly toasted, or other nuts that you like

preparation

  • combine melon and tomatoes in large bowl. Sprinkle with a couple of pinches of salt and toss to blend; let stand 15 minutes.
  • add some oil and vinegar, and herbs to melon mixture. Season to taste with pepper and more salt, if desired.
  • divide the greens and herbs among plates. Top with melon salad, sprinkle with the cheese and toasted nuts, or put some nuts and cheese out so that people can add their own

notes

This is a very forgiving recipe that can be easily modified depending on what you have around. The blend of sweet and tangy in the watermelon/tomato mixture is matched by the fresh and tangy of the greens. This salad is a great way to say hello to summer and to celebrate freshness all summer long. It takes about 10 minutes to pull together.

For this version, we visited our backyard tomato garden for basil, chervil, dill, and parsley. Use whatever you have around that will complement your main dish. This time, we didn’t use cilantro, although we have some, because we had some leftover green romesco sauce for the baked bluefish. (Take some bluefish, spread some olive oil on it with your fingers, sprinkle salt and pepper on it, bake in a 350 oven, skin side down, for about 15 minutes.)

The watermelon/tomato mix will get pretty runny; you can take advantage of this liquid in your dressing and only add enough vinegar to balance the oil. To avoid a watery plate, use a slotted spoon when you add the mix to your greens.

This is a casual salad—don’t get fussy about the sizes of the chunks. If you can fit them into your mouth, and they’re all more or less equal in size, that’s it. You can save the knife skills showoff for something more ambitious, like our veggie chili.