Monthly Archive for October, 2008

Chicken Doodle Soup

After a brutal work week, two children with colds and headaches, and the general malaise I feel in pregnancy, it was time to park it on the couch for a day. We’re watching movies, and drinking mugs of Sleepytime tea with milk and honey.

And, of course, we’re eating chicken soup.

I am passionate about fresh chicken soup. My recipe is adapted from a method I learned making gumbo — fresh parsley, celery, onion and garlic are cooked together as the base. It’s green and delicious and fresh.

Even when money has been very tight for us, the kids — and I when I am pregnant — eat only organic meat. This is especially important to me when it comes to soups and stews because you are boiling them and getting everything out of them. I don’t want the children getting antibiotics or growth hormones.

A small organic local chicken was $8. It’s much meatier, more flavorful, and it contains no growth hormones or antibiotics. With the rest of the ingredients — all local, all organic — the bill came to about $30. A lot more than Campbell’s, but not so much when you think of it as dinner for four people with leftovers.

I use organic chicken broth rather than water to cook the chicken in because the end flavor is so good. It’s kind of cheating, though. Just FYI.

So here goes.

Home Made Chicken Doodle Soup
1 organic free range chicken
3 onions
1 bunch (about seven) organic carrots
1 head organic celery
1 head garlic
1 lemon, plus juice from 1 lemon
1 bunch fresh parsley
crushed black pepper
bay leaf
2 containers organic chicken broth
1 pound pappardelle pasta
Salt and pepper to taste

1) Wash the chicken and cut into pieces. Dry. Put all but the breast in a large stockpot over medium heat. (Reserve the breast in a plate in the fridge.) Note: I also rinse the giblets and use those in the stock, all but the liver which adds a bitter taste.

2) Peel one onion and 1/2 head of garlic. Cut onion in half, smash the garlic cloves a little, and add all to the pot. Add a few chunks each, washed carrot and celery. Scrub the lemon, then cut in half and add it to the pot, along with a handful of the parsley, bay leaf and crushed pepper. Cook about 30 minutes, or until the chicken releases its juices. (Note: pepper is a nice addition at this stage because it serves as an aromatic and infuses the cooking oils. Salt is a very bad addition at this stage because as the soup cooks down it condenses, and the salt will be far too strong. So add salt to taste at the very end and not before.)

3) Add the chicken breast back, and then the chicken broth, plus any additional water needed to cover.

3) Boil about 20 minutes, or until chicken breast is cooked through. Remove all chicken to a cutting board, let cool while broth continues to simmer. Remove meat from bones, add bones back to broth, simmer.

4) Pick over chicken meat removing all fat, tiny piece of bone, or anything else that you don’t want to eat. Cut it into bite-sized pieces and put it into the refrigerator.

5) Prep remaining vegetables. Cut celery, carrots, onion into chunks. (Note: organic carrots don’t need to be peeled. Just wash them carefully and cut off bases and tips.) Crush and chop remaining garlic and parsley.

6) Skim the broth. Pour through strainer into a large bowl. Discard vegetables and bones. Skim fat, reserving 2 tablespoons for cooking.

7) Rinse out stock pot and place on burner over medium heat. Add chicken fat and onions, cooking until onions are translucent. Then add parsley, celery and garlic. When celery is soft, add carrots. Grind fresh pepper over it.

8.) Add skimmed broth back and bring to a boil. Skim foam off the top.

9) Break pappardelle into smaller chunks. Cook in salted water until just soft, and then add them to the broth. Continue to boil until the vegetables and pasta are completely cooked. Add back chicken.

10) Season with salt, a little more pepper, and the juice of a lemon.

Blood? Or Gore?

I open my front door, aching and nauseated, and smile to find Sunbeam working at the kitchen sink. I have walked in on her daily mission of mercy — emptying the girls’ lunch boxes and cleaning the Tupperware before I get one whiff and spend the night barfing.

I grin, and she knows the sonogram was okay, and then I show her the picture — a silhouette, Little One in profile. A nose, little lips, belly, two perfect little arms and legs.

“Do you know? Is it a boy or girl?”

Why is does everyone keep freaking asking me that?

“Cutest little crossed ankles you ever saw,” I say. “C’mon.” She follows me to the living room where I open a drawer and dig among the placemats. I take out a shiny white cardboard package.

PINK OR BLUE?? — It screams in fonts of the requisite colors.

“OHMAGAWD!” she says.

“I KNOW!!” I say. She follows me to the family room. Mare is there, putting the finishing touches on her homework before bed.

“What’s that?” Mare asks.

“It’s a test to find out whether the baby is a boy or girl. It’s science. Want to help?”

Make sure there are no males present,” Sunbeam reads from the instructions. “Wash area to be tested carefully with enclosed alcohol wipe.” We open the package and Sunbeam smears the wipe around my middle finger — which was already stabbed twice today for the blood for the AFP test. (My middle finger hasn’t been this exercised since I first learned how to drive in downtown Boston.)

To avoid male contamination from the surface, lay out a clean paper towel to set the test strip on.” She dutifully rips off a paper towel and sets it out.

“Hey, gang,” Cute Husband says from the door. “What’s –”

“AAIEEEEEEEE!!!!!” Three girly screams and a door slammed in his face.

“Good job, Mare,” I say, as she barricades the door against her father. Who just wants to sit on the couch with a beer and watch the tube.

“What did I do?” he asks meekly from the other side.

“You’ll contamimate the test!” Mare shouts.

“ContaMINate,” I correct.

“CONTAMIMATE!!” she says.

“Okay,” Sunbeam says with great authority. (Have I mentioned she is considering a career in medicine? I think she will be fabulous, don’t you?) “I think you use this thing to stab yourself,” — she hands me a little plastic tool that looks oddly like the thing I used to put Mare’s princess castle together — “.. and then you bleed on the card.”

She points to the picture for reference.

“Stab,” she repeats, “bleed.”

Okedoke. Stab …

Sumbitch that hurt.

… bleed?

I squeeze. One little pinprick of blood comes out, and I drop it over the test card, right into the middle of one of the little circles. I’m pleased. We look at the blood, the card, my sad aching little finger.

“It’s not enough,” Sunbeam says.

“Well, it’s going to have to do,” I say.

“No, look, right here, it’s not enough.” Another picture in the little pamphlet: depicting a little drop of blood in the middle of a circle. It looks eerily like the one I just made. Over it, the words: NOT ENOUGH.

“That’s why they gave you two of these.” She hands me another finger-stabber-thingy and nods expectantly at the other hand. I swallow.

Holy shit this is my fourth stab of the day.

“OW!” Another little red pinprick.

“Okay, look, we need to get the blood down there,” Sunbeam says. She starts kneading my arms. I’m holding my finger over that freaking circle trying my very best to bleed adequately. Then she starts with the karate chops. Up and down my arms. Little drops of blood are going every where. Some are even getting on the card, but it’s turning out to be monstrously difficult to bleed on target.

She’s chopping one arm, I’m squeezing the finger on the other, and Mare is standing, staring in horror.

“I got it, I got it,” Sunbeam says.

Blood. Everywhere. It’s all over the play room. It’s on the table, the floor. We pick up the card. It’s dripping.

“I think that’s good,” she says.

“Yeah, yeah,” I agree. That’s when I drop the card. The carefully-uncontaminated-judiciously-bled-on-freaking-card.

It lands, face down, on the floor.

What’s the rule on bloody cardboard? Ten seconds, what?

“Still good, still good,” I say, scooping it up.

“Congratulations, we are pleased to inform you you are having a cat,” Sunbeam says.

Whatever. We cram it into the envelope. If they need any help identifying me, they can use the bloody thumbprint on the package.

I do wonder, though, what the mailman will think.

***

I received this product for free to review on this website. The test is produced byConsumer Genetics and is very simple and logical. 7 weeks after conception (or about 10 weeks from LMP) the baby is emitting DNA material that goes into the mother’s blood stream. A sample of the blood is tested for male DNA. If there is some, then it’s a boy. If there isn’t, it’s a girl. That’s why it’s important not to contaminate your little bloody card.

The test was pretty easy to do, and the company was very responsive to my e-mailed inquiries. The downside, of course, is the price tag. $244, according to their website. Given that most prenatal providers now are happy to identify sex by sonogram, it’s basically a lot of money to pay for impatience.

However, if you have the money to spend, and don’t mind a little blood, it’s fun. It’s also amazingly fast. I sent the sample late last week and received an e-mail result as I was typing this post.

Not that I’m going to tell you what it was.

Macaroni and Cheese, Food Whore Style

One of the great luxuries of cold weather is a large pan of macaroni and cheese. I make it in massive batches a couple of times a year, freezing a bunch, bringing it in to school, or to the home of a pregnant friend, and always a bunch over to Sunbeam. The result is that I am frequently asked for the recipe.

But the recipe isn’t mine, it’s the Food Whore’s, and credit must go where it’s due. So she agreed to type it up for me, and allow me to publish it.

My preferred way to eat this is with a salad and cold beer.

The Food Whore‘s Mac and Cheese
www.thefoodwhore.com

1 lb. macaroni pasta cooked just past al dente. I do this so that the pasta will soak the sauce, but also leave a good amount to keep it extra creamy. (For the record, I prefer DeCecco pasta.)

1 Stick of Butter (people need to get over it)
5 or 6 TBS Flour
1/2 Onion – minced
2 Cloves Garlic – minced
Salt & Pepper To Taste
6 Cups Heavy Cream
Fresh Nutmeg (a few grates – or about 1/4 tsp)

1 1/2 Lbs. Cheese – Extra Sharp Cheddar, Fontina, Parmesan in whatever amounts to equal 5 or 6 cups

Sautee the onion and garlic in butter until translucent. Add flour and cook mixture – don’t let the roux cook too long. Too much color changes the flavor.

Whisk in heavy cream, season with salt, pepper and nutmeg.

Remove from heat, add in grated cheeses. Stir until melted.

Pour over drained pasta and place in a buttered casserole dish.

Top with a mixture of 2 Cups Breadcrumbs (I use whatever I have on hand, or I make fresh with crusty bread, but do love the texture of Panko) mixed with 4 TBS melted butter, and 1/2 cup grated Parmesan.

Bake at 375 degrees until bubbly and browned on top.

Sometimes – when I am really naughty, I add crumbled bacon to the top.

And sometimes I use the recipe and replace the cheddar with gruyere, and I add prosciutto.

And other days, when I am in a hormonal abyss of rage, I eat the Blue Box.