Errata

I’m not afraid to admit when I’m wrong. I’m not eager to do it, and I’m certainly not going to go out of my way to announce every little misstatement. But some errors are so egregious that they can’t be allowed to stand.

On July 4, 2017, I said “It’s also probably the simplest recipe I’ll ever post here.”

What was I thinking? That recipe has three ingredients and five steps! A simpler one was inevitable.

You ready for a really simple recipe? I’m not going to claim this one can’t be beat–I’ve learned that lesson–but I can’t think how.

Normally, at this point I’d give credit to the originator of the recipe and explain how we’ve modified it. But in this case, variations are all over the Internet and very few of them are credited. If you want to trace the history, please let me know what you learn.

Slow Cooker Salsa Chicken

Ingredients

  • 3 lbs of boneless, skinless chicken thighs – Don’t use breast meat: it gets dry and doesn’t soak up flavor well.
  • One jar, bottle, or other container of salsa – Whatever variety appeals. Chunky and smooth both work well. Just check the ingredient list before you buy: an unexpectedly high bell pepper concentration can ruin an otherwise delightful salsa.

Steps

  1. Dump the chicken in your slow cooker.
  2. Slop the salsa on top of the chicken.
  3. Cook on Low for 8-9 hours.

The salsa cooks down and combines with the chicken juices to produce a rich liquid that tastes great over rice, and leftovers work well as a chili base. Be aware, however, that the mingling and cooking does reduce the spiciness. If you prefer some kick in your chicken, a mild salsa is not your friend.

The chicken itself can go into the rice along with the salsa liquid, or anchor a burrito. It makes great sandwiches–try it with some pickled carrots or onions–and stuffs into baked potatoes well (don’t forget to add some bacon as well).

This is, by the way, one of those recipes that reheats well in an Instant Pot: pressure cook on low for zero minutes, shut off the cooker, and vent the pressure manually.

There you go: a mindless recipe for taxing times.

And, rest assured that if I find a two-ingredient, two-step recipe, I’ll let you all know.

Chicken!

Why didn’t anybody tell me?

Long-time readers know of my love of Alton Brown and his TV shows. Some may even recall my sorrow three years ago when Cutthroat Kitchen went off the air.

At the time, Alton was talking up his plans for a Good Eats successor. It was supposed to be an online-only show and would tackle subjects the original wasn’t allowed to address.

As best I can tell, that show never happened.

And then. A couple of days ago, Maggie and I were watching Kids Baking Challenge and a little blurb popped up in the corner of the screen. This is something Food Network does with great regularity, and it never fails to annoy me. Normally I do my best to ignore such mini-ads, but this one caught my eye. “Up Next: Good Eats Reloaded

Picture my face with exclamation points replacing my eyes.

On second thought, don’t. That’s a rather creepy image. But you get the idea.

It turns out that Food Network has been running these shows for the past year or so, and I completely missed it. They’re not new content either. They’re reworked and updated versions of some of the original Good Eats episodes.

We’ve seen two of them so far (or most of two of them: Sling’s DVR functionality has issues). Updates on broth are well and good, but the updated pasta show may be useful, given the amount of noodles we go through.

But the really good news is the reason Food Network moved Good Eats Reloaded to a better time slot: Good Eats: The Return is coming. Three weeks from today, in fact. Not quite close enough to set the DVR, but near enough to smell the garlic.

The blurb on Food Network’s website sounds a lot like what Alton was talking about for the never-happened online-only show.

I can’t wait. Well, I can–I have too–but I can’t wait patiently.

To celebrate, I’m going to do something I haven’t done for a while: post a recipe.

As with most recipes I post, it’s not a family recipe or something original. Credit where credit is due: this is stolen and modified from Sara Welch’s Slow Cooker Whole Chicken as posted on “Dinner at the Zoo”.

We’re suckers for crockpot cookery, especially recipes that require very little actual effort. If we can throw some stuff together, turn on the pot, and go to work, we’re in. When we saw this one claimed a five minute prep time, we had to try it.

And, of course, we had to tweak it a bit to our tastes.

Ingredients

  • One five pound whole chicken. Note: a bird this size fits almost perfectly into a three quart slow cooker.
  • Your favorite spice rub. Sara’s suggested mix is tasty, and does largely replicate the flavor of a store-bought rotisserie chicken. But it does require a minute–maybe even ninety seconds–to assemble. We’ve had good results with commercial BBQ rubs. Laziness FTW!
  • 4-6 small potatoes, washed. Keep ’em whole; you don’t want them to cook too quickly.

Steps

  1. Spray the inside of the cooker with cooking spray.
  2. Place the potatoes on the bottom of the cooker. They’re going to serve as your rack so the chicken doesn’t get submerged in its own juices. Soggy chicken is no fun.
  3. Rub your spice mix all over the bird. Be generous. And don’t forget to rub some inside the body cavity.
  4. Put the chicken into the pot on top of the potatoes, put on the lid, and turn the cooker on on High.
  5. After one hour, turn the cooker down to Low.
  6. Ignore it for at least five hours. We’ve gone as long as ten without harm to the result. Be safe: if you’re not letting it cook all day, use a meat thermometer to confirm the thickest part of the thigh has hit at least 165.
  7. Crispy skin is a must. Put the chicken in a baking dish and shove it under your broiler for five minutes.

Yes, you do serve the potatoes too. Why wouldn’t you? They’ve soaked up plenty of chickeny goodness. And save the liquid that’s accumulated at the bottom of the cooker. It freezes well and makes a great base for soups and stews.

Chili

I can’t believe I’ve never written about chili here. It’s a great cold-weather food, freezes well, has an infinite variety of recipes, and comes with an impossible-to-resolve debate. It’s hard to think of another food that matches it for taste, flexibility, and entertainment potential.

We’ve been making chili for about thirty years, and it’s a bit embarrassing to realize how little our recipe has changed. A definite case of “the more things change, the more they stay the same.”

It began as a fairly literal implementation of the one on the Carroll Shelby’s Chili Kit box. (Have I mentioned that we’re lazy cooks?) Over the years, we’ve tweaked it for even more laziness–but also more flavor.

Yes, it’s heavy on cans. There’s that lazy thing again. And also yes, it is a crockpot recipe. That’s not laziness, that’s convenience.

As for that debate? We’re firmly in the pro-bean camp. We’ll cheerfully eat bean-free chili, but if we make it ourselves, it’s gonna have beans. Sorry “real” Texans.

Ready? Great.

Ingredients

  • One bottle of dark beer. Please, not whatever’s cheap. Get something you might actually want to drink. Lately, we’ve been using Guinness. Apologies to any Irish readers who believe contact between stout and solid food is sacriledge.
  • One fifteen ounce can of kidney beans. Go for the low-sodium version. There’s quite enough salt coming in from other ingredients.
  • One fifteen ounce can of black beans. Again, low-sodium. Sure, you could use two cans of black or red beans, but why? They’re both tasty. Embrace the power of “and”.
  • One fifteen ounce can of crushed tomatoes. Just tomatoes. No peppers, no spices. If you can find a salt-free or low-sodium variety, even better.
  • One six ounce can of tomato paste. I’ve heard people claim this is a thickener. Nope. Just a flavor magnifier.
  • Optional but recommended: One onion, chopped. It adds flavor and a little bit of texture. A very little bit.
  • Three tablespoons (plus or minus one, depending on how much of a kick you want) of chili spice. Not mix. This, by the way, is where most of the salt is going to come in.
  • Optional but recommended: Additional spices to taste. Got an interesting barbeque rub? Toss in a tablespoon or so. We think highly of Penzeys’ “Arizona Dreaming”.
  • One pound of stew meat. Beef is good. So is lamb. We’ve never tried it with poultry, but if you do, go for chicken thighs or turkey. Chicken breasts don’t have enough flavor to bother with.
  • One pound of ground meat. Again, think beef or lamb. If your provider offers a “coarse” or “chili” grind, go for it–unless they pre-spice it or mix in peppers. Bell peppers in chili aren’t an abomination in the same way mayo on a burger is, but they take the flavor profile in the wrong direction.

Preparation

  1. Combine the beer, beans, tomatoes, and tomato paste in your crockpot.
  2. Add the spices and stir well.
  3. Toss in the onion if you’re using it.
  4. Stir in the meat. Many recipes recommend browning the meat first. We don’t usually, but if you do, add the fat and liquid that cooks off. You don’t want to lose that flavor. If you don’t brown the ground meat, don’t toss it in as a brick, crumble it.
  5. Cook on low until you’re ready to eat, at least six hours. If possible, stir it once about halfway.

Be aware this makes a very wet chili. One might even go so far as to call it a soup, rather than a stew. Rather than thickening the pot with masa as many recipes advise, we lazily suggest allowing diners to thicken their own portions to suit their tastes:

  • Crumble in a good handful of crackers–we recommend saltines or oyster crackers, but we’ve been known to use Ritz crackers.
  • Serve with a substantial bread, something with a thick crust and dense insides. Dip the bread to soak up chili juice, or drop in bite-sized pieces. Done right, the bread can take on a very dumpling-like texture.
  • Maggie swears by Parmesan cheese as a thickener. I’ll refrain from comment.

As I said above, this chili freezes well. It also keeps well in the fridge and reheats nicely in the oven. Have some for lunch while you watch a Spring Training game!

Hot Cider

I had a lovely Christmas, thanks, and I hope yours was as pleasant as mine.

We slept late–one of the advantages of not having small children in the house–and waited until the caffeine was ready before we opened gifts. I’d like to be able to say we opened them slowly and with due appreciation, but…We’ve been bludgeoning adulthood into submission for enough years that we’re not about to go grown-up now.

We stayed in our jammies all day, talked to family on the phone, watched one of our favorite Christmas movies*, had a nice dinner, gave the Backyard Bunch gooshy fud instead of the usual Kitty Krunchiez, and largely ignored whatever’s was going on in the outside world.

* It’s got its flaws, but it’s also got some of the most quotable lines ever.

Oh, yeah. We also tried a new spiced cider recipe. Since it was wildly successful, I’ll pass along our modified version. For those of you stuck in colder realms, it’s the perfect drink to accompany watching someone else shovel snow.

Credit where credit is due: the original recipe comes from Christine Gallary at The Kitchn. We’ve merely tweaked it slightly and adjusted it for a smaller crockpot.

Hardware and Ingredients

  • A 3-quart slow cooker
  • A tea infuser, small cheesecloth bag, or other similar device for confining spices
  • 1/2 gallon of apple cider. Not the alcoholic stuff (much as we love that) and not the sparkling stuff either. If you can’t get cider, get juice–preferably unfiltered. The important thing is to check the ingredients. If there’s anything other than apple juice listed, put it back on the shelf.
  • 1 baseball-sized orange. Maybe a little bigger, but don’t get up into anything suitable for softball. And no, you can’t substitute a couple of those little clementines that are so popular this time of year. The ratio of flesh to peel and pith is all wrong. Cut it into quarter-inch slices and discard the ends and any other pieces that don’t have much flesh.
  • 3 cinnamon sticks.
  • 1/2 tablespoon of whole cloves
  • 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon of whole peppercorns
  • A few pieces of crystallized ginger (yes, a very precise measurement), cut into half-inch squares.

Instructions

  1. Pour the cider into the crockpot. Hardest thing you’ll do all day.
  2. Toss in the ginger, orange, and cinnamon. Gently: don’t splash.
  3. Restrain the cloves and peppercorns into a single packet and drop it in.
  4. Put the lid on the cooker, set it on Low, and leave it alone for two hours.
  5. Stir. Make sure to shove the orange slices under the surface of the liquid. They’ll float back up, but it helps distribute the flavor if they’re damp on both surfaces.
  6. Leave it alone for another couple of hours.
  7. Ladle it into thick-walled mugs and enjoy.

Note: You will get bits of orange and ginger in your mug. Don’t sweat it, just drink around them. Or eat them. Your choice. Mopping up the spills after you try to pour the contents of a hot crockpot through a filter into another pot just isn’t worth the effort.

Not a Health Food

Happy Independence Day. Yes, even you non-Americans.

I’m not saying anyone has to celebrate–especially those of you outside our borders–but why not have a happy day? All y’all, American or not, can enjoy the fact that for this one day our politicians are too distracted with celebration to bother you.

Or if that’s not enough of motivation, try this recipe. It’s been a while since I posted one, and since this one literally fell into my hands the other day, I figured I should share.

Yes, literally. We’re doing a major cleanup-slash-assault on the garage. Many of the boxes we’re sorting through haven’t been opened in more than two decades. Many things are getting donated or discarded*. But some things you just don’t get rid of.

* There were so many old magazines and other papers in the recycle bin last week, we were afraid the truck would tip over when the claw came out to grab the can. It didn’t–but it did creak quite loudly.

This recipe, which fell out of box of assorted papers, is one of the things you have to keep. It’s right in line with my “lazy cook” philosophy, but the results are tasty, indeed.

Cast your mind back to the late 1970s. A time when jogging was popular, Star Wars was huge, and granola bars were chewy.

Oh, you can still buy chewy granola bars, but back then it was the default choice. And so easy to make!

The origins of this recipe are shrouded in mystery. “Some magazine, I think,” was the best provenance my mother could come up with.

Note that these are not healthy granola bars. You want those, go buy ’em. Or find your own recipe, starting with making your own granola. This version is loaded with fat, sugar, and everything that makes junk food worth eating.

It’s also probably the simplest recipe I’ll ever post here.

Gooey Granola Bars

Ingredients

  • 6 cups granola – You can make your own if you want, but that violates the core principle of the lazy cook. Buy it ready-made. And get one with something more than just oats. Dried fruit, maybe, or some interesting nuts. I used Trader Joe’s ginger and almond granola, and the bars turned out very well–though Maggie says it needs more ginger.
  • 1 can condensed milk – The sweetened, sticky stuff. If your store has a low-fat or fat-free version, ignore it. Get the real thing.
  • 1 1/2 cups chocolate chips – Or more. Two cups is better. More chocolate than granola might be excessive. I suggest using a dark chocolate, something with just enough bitterness to contrast with the sugar from the milk. And if you’ve got a local confectionery, hit ’em up for chocolate chunks.

Steps

  1. Preheat the oven to 375F and grease a baking pan with butter. No, not non-stick spray. Butter.
  2. Mix granola and chips in a large bowl, then mix in the condensed milk.
  3. Spread the mixture evenly into the baking pan. Push it into the corners, and pack it tight.
  4. Bake for 20 minutes.
  5. Allow to cool, slice, pry out of pan, and enjoy. Hint: If the bars crumble or compress into cubes when you try to remove them from the pan, you probably didn’t let them cool long enough.

Unseasonal

It’s been a damned long winter, but signs of spring are everywhere.

I’ve finished my current bag of oatmeal–Bob’s Red Mill Rolled Oats. I don’t insist on the organic variant, but Amazon doesn’t seem to have the inorganic variety–and it’s warm enough I feel no urge to replace it.

The Chron is beginning to run baseball stories that have nothing to do with the As’ attempts to relocate outside of Oakland. According to the latest story, their slogan this year is “Rooted in Oakland”. I’d suggest they reconsider, but since they’ve already filmed commercials using the phrase, it’s probably too late. (To clarify, “root” has several meanings, not all of which convey the sort of message the As probably had in mind. In particular, the Australian slang interpretation makes it a darn good summary of the organization’s attitude towards the team’s fans over the past decade or so.)

And, arguably most importantly, the recent rains have resuscitated our lemon tree. After more than a year of producing next to nothing, it’s suddenly covered in lemons.

Let’s get one thing clear. I know some of you outside the Bay Area are thinking “Whoa, that writing thing must bring in pretty good money if he can afford a house with an attached citrus grove.” Untrue. It’s one tree. And, to be blunt, lemon trees are common around here, only slightly rarer than indoor plumbing. Granted, ours is a little unusual, in that–until the drought took its toll–it produced so many lemons we thought it must be part zucchini. But realty listings don’t even bother mentioning lemons; they’re just assumed.

But I digress.

It’s not exactly the season, but what can you do? When your lemon tree gives you lemons…

So there’s a jug of lemonade in the fridge, made to an exacting, complicated recipe:

  1. Combine one part sugar, two parts lemon juice, and six parts water.
  2. Mix well.

(You can make this at home, even if you don’t have a tree. Do not get packaged lemon juice, especially the kind that comes in a little plastic lemon. The flavor just isn’t there. Buy lemons and squeeze ’em yourself. Better yet, get the kids to squeeze ’em. It’ll keep them out of trouble for a few minutes and give them a sense of accomplishment.)

I know some of you are thinking “Sugar? No, honey!” It’s a valid point. But I’ve never had much luck with honey. It doesn’t dissolve as well as sugar.

And, while I’ve had some tasty honey-based lemonades, IMNSHO the flavor of the honey distracts from the pure lemon-sour/sugar-sweet contrast that’s the soul of the beverage.

Pitchers and catchers begin reporting to Spring Training on Sunday. Have a cold glass of lemonade and enjoy the turning of the season.

A Simple Method for Simple Minds

Since my brain decided to take today off, allow me to present a recipe–or rather, a cooking method–that requires no brain power whatsoever.

This is one of our go-to choices for the end of the week, not just because it’s simply, but also because it’s flexible, tasty, and a darn sight healthier than other no-brain meal options.

I’m talking about salmon.

“What?” I hear somebody say, “Doesn’t that require all sorts of annoying paraphernalia like cedar planks, and finicky cooking over open flames?”

Nope. I mean, you can do it that way, and it’s good eating, but for everyday* cooking, something simpler seems warranted.

* I don’t recommend doing this every day, though I suppose you could. The FDA recommends two meals a week of “fish that are low in mercury” and provides a list that includes salmon. And varying your spices can dramatically change the taste of the fish. But I still think seven meals a week is excessive.

Ready?

Start with the fish. Since we’re going for simplicity, don’t get a whole fish and fillet it yourself. Let someone else do the work. If your local market doesn’t have salmon fillets–fresh or frozen–find a new market.

I’m not going to recapitulate the entire argument about wild-caught versus farm-raised. I’ll just note that the majority of the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch List’s recommendations for salmon are for wild-caught. And, by the way, their choices overwhelmingly favor Pacific salmon, not Atlantic.

So, start the oven pre-heating to 500.

While you’re waiting on the oven, find a cookie sheet or broiling pan large enough to hold your fillets and a piece of aluminum foil twice as long as the pan. Place the foil in the pan so that it only hangs off on one side. Set the fish on the foil, skin side down.

Here’s the part where you can get creative. Sprinkle the top of the fish with the spices of your choice. We usually start with Old Bay and some dried shallot, then build up from there. Salmon is strongly-flavored on its own, so that might be enough, but we’ve also had good results with coriander and garam masala, a few different barbeque rubs, or thin slices of lemon. Don’t use salt or a spice mix containing salt: that sucks the moisture right out of the fish. Bleah!

Once your fish is well-decorated, fold the foil over the top and fold the edges together. Make sure you crimp them tightly together so there’s no way that steam can escape*.

* Assuming you’re not trying to make salmon jerky, that is. If you want dry, chewy salmon, leave a few openings around the edges of the foil.

Hopefully your oven heats faster than ours; we usually have the fish ready to go well before the oven is up to temperature. If yours is like ours, the time can profitably be spent on a side dish. Rice is a good choice.

Once the oven is hot enough and the fish is flavored and tightly sealed, put the fish in the oven and set the timer for ten minutes. Don’t worry that your fillets are too thick or thin. Only once in our years of cooking salmon this way has it come out underdone, and I can’t remember a case of it being overdone.

When the timer goes off, pull the fish out. Don’t open the foil yet. Let it rest for two or three minutes, then carefully* unfold the foil and serve.

* Very carefully. Hot steam will escape and parboiled fingers will ruin your enjoyment of the meal.

A Guilty Pleasure

OK, let’s take a moment to get real.

Tuesday’s election don’t show that the majority of Americans are racist, sexist idiots.

Nor do they confirm that “Americans want change”.

They don’t even show that we need to get rid of the Electoral College.

What the results really tell us is that 44% of Americans don’t care who governs the country.

According to the estimates of the United States Elections Project, there were 231,556,000 people eligible to vote in the election, yet only 130,840,000 ballots were cast (and let’s not forget that not all of those ballots included a vote for president).

This is not a call for mandatory voting. If people don’t care enough to go to the minimal effort of requesting an absentee ballot, filling it out in the comfort of their own home, and dropping it in the mailbox, they’re not going to go to the effort of studying the issues just because they’ll be fined if they don’t vote.

All I’m saying is that if, after a year and a half of promotion of the election as the most important one in history*, nearly half of the population still doesn’t think it matters who’s running things, then, regardless of the result, we’ve gotten the government we deserve.

* Whether that’s right or not is really irrelevant.

And that’s the last thing I’m going to say about the election.

Moving on to something more cheerful.

This is definitely one for the “Guilty Pleasure” file. It’s also a work in progress.

Our local supermarket sells Salt and Vinegar Chicken Wings. They are incredibly tasty. They’re also incredibly bad for me: based on my history of kidney stones, fried foods and high sodium foods are both strongly contra-indicated.

The other problem is that I’m not really crazy about wings. The meat to bone ratio is too low, especially when you’re buying by the pound.

So we don’t have the supermarket product often.

We’ve looked for an alternative, something using thighs instead of wings, and preferably baked or roasted instead of fried. Most of the recipes we’ve turned up have involved crushing salt and vinegar potato chips and using them as breading for the chicken.

Not only is that cheating, but it keeps all of the flavor on the outside of the bird. Great for the skin, less so for the meat down near the bone.

We decided to experiment and work out our own recipe. We took a wing recipe (and thank you, Cheyanne, for coming up with it) as our starting place. It’s been through a couple of iterations, but there’s still some work to be done. More on that below.

Ingredients

  • 2 lbs chicken thighs – that’s 6-8 thighs, and you want want bone-in thighs with the skin, because part of the appeal is that crunchy skin.
  • 1/2 cup white distilled vinegar
  • 1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
  • 3 tsp kosher sea salt
  • 1 tsp dry ranch dressing mix
  • 1/2 tsp granulated sugar

Preparation

  1. Combine all of the non-chicken ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Ideally, all of the sugar and salt will dissolve, but don’t sweat it if a few crystals are left.
  2. Put the chicken in a Ziploc bag, then pour the marinade over it. Press as much air as you can out of the bag, zip it closed, and put it in the refrigerator overnight.
  3. A couple of times during the marination, take the bag out and smoosh the contents around to redistribute the marinade across the bird.
  4. Preheat the oven to 320.
  5. You want some space under the chicken so it’s not sitting in its own fat while it cooks. We use a broiling pan, but a wire rack in a large skillet would do just as well. Make sure the chicken is skin side up.
  6. Cook for an hour (slightly less if the pieces of chicken are widely separated).
  7. Remove from oven and let stand for ten minutes. This will allow the skin to crisp up a bit more.

As I said above, this still needs some tweaking. The salt level is about right, but even thought we’ve almost doubled the vinegar, it still doesn’t have enough punch. We’re considering supplementing the marinade with a light dusting of dried vinegar just before the bird goes in the oven.

If anyone out there has other suggestions, we’d be delighted to hear them.

Versatile Sauce

Peanut butter is good. But what else can you do with that jar of peanuts sitting in your pantry? Aside from just munching them whole, I mean.

How about a very versatile peanut sauce?

We’ve got one we’ve been using for thirty years, give or take. It’s an excellent dip for vegetables, goes well on grilled beef and chicken (try marinading the meat with lemon juice, soy sauce, and ginger), and makes a spectacular pasta sauce (use a noodle with plenty of folds: shells, rotini, or bowties). However, I don’t recommend it in PB&J–unless the J is pepper jelly.

It keeps well in the fridge for several days. Make a big batch and use it on sandwiches with grilled meat and pickled vegetables one night, and over pasta a few days later after the flavors mature.

The recipe is adapted from one in Cynthia Wine’s Hot & Spicy Cooking. The book came out in the mid-80s, so new copies don’t come cheap–that link says they start at $88. After three decades, I don’t think Cynthia would be too offended if you picked it up used.)

Our version has evolved over time; here’s the current version:

Ingredients

  • 1/2 to 2/3 cup shelled, roasted peanuts – depending on your dietary restrictions and mood, you can use salted, unsalted, or flavored. We’ve had excellent results with chipotle- and barbeque-flavored nuts. Err on the side of generosity: the nuts are the star of the dish, after all.
  • 2 tablespoons molasses
  • 2 tablespoons soy sauce
  • 1 to 3 cloves minced garlic – or more, if that’s what floats your boat.
  • 1 tablespoon minced ginger
  • 1 tablespoon crushed dried red chiles – approximate measure here, and to taste. We’ve found this to be an excellent way to use up those packets of pepper the pizza delivery place insists on bringing.
  • 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice – yes, fresh. I know I often encourage laziness in cooking. This is not one of those times. Buy a lemon and squeeze it yourself; don’t use the bottled stuff. Ever.
  • 1/2 cup water – tap water is fine, don’t feel you need to use bottled–unless you’re in California, in which case, please use a brand bottled outside the state. There’s a drought on, you know.
  • 1 tablespoon peanut oil

Preparation

  1. Using your favorite blender, grind the peanuts. Don’t try to get it too smooth. Even if you prefer creamy peanut butter, leave a few small chunks of nut to add some texture.
  2. Combine all the ingredients except the peanut oil in a small saucepan.
  3. Simmer for at least fifteen minutes. You’ve got a lot of latitude here. It should go long enough for all the ingredients to combine and thicken slightly, but not so long that it turns into a paste.
  4. Remove from heat and stir in the peanut oil.

PB & ?

Something a little different from the cynicism of the past couple of weeks.

The peanut butter and jelly sandwich is arguably the centerpiece of the classic American lunch. If you grew up in the U.S., you probably can’t begin to count the number of PB&Js you’ve eaten. There’s a reason for that success: the combination of the rich, slightly salty PB wraps the sweetness of the J; at the same time, the tart aftertaste of the J cuts the unctuousness of the PB. Complementary pairs.

You’ve probably got your favorite variation, the one you go to automatically; the one you eat every day for a week without a qualm. White bread, chunky peanut butter, and grape jelly. Whole wheat, creamy organic, and homemade ginger-apricot jam. But no matter how much you like your favorite, every so often you need a little variety, right?

To my mind, one of the most fascinating things about the PB&J is that most people are only willing to consider changing one of the three ingredients. Change the bread? No way. Change the peanut butter? Are you insane‽ In both cases, people might reluctantly change brands, but not the style. Fans of crunchy will turn up their noses at creamy. Those who prefer a “natural” peanut butter flee from pre-stirred varieties.

Fortunately, there’s plenty of room for experimentation with the “jelly” element. Even the change of mouth feel in switching from jelly to jam can be enough to satisfy your desire for novelty. Apple jelly is different from apple jam, and apple butter is different from either.

But what if you want to go further? Break from convention, abandon the J, and let your taste buds roam free*? What combines well with the immutable pairing of PB and bread?

* OK, that’s a disturbing image.

You could try marmalade. You could. I won’t stop you. I don’t think you’ll enjoy it, though. It would take an unusually strong peanut butter to stand up to marmalade and make a balanced PB&M.

Allow me to make a couple of suggestions.

Honey–Sometimes you just want to rot your teeth*. Honey cranks up the sweetness level beyond the ability of jelly, without the guilty feelings that sprinkling your sandwich with processed sugar would bring. And there’s as much variety in flavors of honey as in jellies.

* Let’s face it: 90% of us are never going to brush after lunch.

Cream cheese–Feeling sugared out? Try cream cheese. Not one of the abominations that come mixed with smoked salmon, chives, strawberries, or, God help us, pumpkin. What are you, sick? Just a simple, pure schmear. It works better with crunchy peanut butter, so you get a bit of textural contrast, but even with creamy PB, the slight bite of the cheese plays nicely against the smooth legume.

OK, the floor is open. What do you all use when you want to break free of the standard PB&J?