Noodle Redemption

Pensive Amy contemplates West Coast reality

Baby daughter Amy flew in from New York's Manhattan to help me magically combine the necessary elements into egg noodles like my mother used to make.

The entire staff of the Q-CC Institute hummed with excitement.  Actually, I was more, Da da da da da daaa Julie Schellenbaum than hum, but only because I had recently seen a good episode of Hawaii Five-O.

It took Amy two days to acclimate herself to sunny West Coast reality, including a visit to San Diego where my sister demonstrated the proper way to cook a feast after my brother-in-law and nephew took us sailing on Mission Bay so Amy could remember there is a life without subways.

Amy in NYC "sun"

Bright and early on Memorial Day, I arose and made coffee, but Amy was apparently still adjusting to the east to west coast time change, which put her 21 hours behind plus one day ahead.

As the first order of the day, I demonstrated how to prepare Q-CC bacon and eggs with toast and sliced tomatoes, a tried-and-true recipe that has led to international acclaim and not a few Michelin Stars for your humble correspondent.

Amy almost looked up from her Mac Pro screen once or twice as I cooked, and after Amy, Julie and I enjoyed that delicious breakfast, we immediately continued submersion into Southern California culture by surfing..............................the internet and watching Project Runway.

Just as Steven Spielberg watches Lawrence of Arabia before starting a new movie project, Amy apparently finds inspiration in "Project Runway," so we watched a second episode.

We then walked along the waterfront to Hermosa Beach, where a Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young cover band was playing in Pier Plaza for the annual Plaza Hermosa celebration, as we tried to find cheap polarized sunglasses for Amy. Unbelievably, none of the two for $10 sunglasses were polarized, but we walked away more than satisfied, with a new hat for Julie.

On the way home, we stopped at Smart & Final to pick up three pounds of boneless, skinless chicken breasts before returning to the hallowed halls of the impressive Q-CC Institute where we would begin Project Noodle Redemption.

As you may recall, my solo attempt to recreate Mom's German noodles was not a roaring success, but this time we had a plan: make the noodles good, not bad. And to make some chicken tacos at the same time, as long as we were already boiling chicken.

Julie contemplates revealing large mixing bowl.

With our objectives clear, we put all four chicken breasts into the Teflon-coated pot and added enough water to cover them, putting the covered pot on the stove with the burner set on medium and our timer set for 60 minutes.

We immediately began trying to decipher what went wrong the last time. Julie revealed a large white and pink mixing bowl, lost for eons in the Q-CC's dramatic exodus from Manhattan Beach, and we knew we would not be deterred on our quest for good, not bad, noodles.  Could this be the missing piece of the puzzle?

Amy kept saying the noodles were a total fail last time so we should start from scratch, and after several minutes reading through my careful record of the prior disaster, I realized my recipe was almost entirely incomprehensible anyway, so she found one online that had similar pictures, and we appropriated its essence, tweaking it for our purposes (and to avoid any litigation and complications similar to General Hospital's relish controversy).



First, Amy poured 2 1/2 cups of flour into the mixing bowl and thoroughly blended it with a pinch of salt. When we eventually ate the noodles, we decided that we probably could have used a bigger pinch or possibly two pinches of salt, but as we don't really know exactly what a pinch is, you may not find this revelation particularly enlightening.

We mixed in two eggs.

To make a tablespoon of butter mix easier, I put it in the measuring cup and nuked it for 24 seconds, then poured it into the bowl. Putting a half cup of low fat milk in the measuring cup added most remnants of flour and butter when we poured it into the bowl.

Amy mixed the dough until it had a consistency similar to Play Doh, and then kneaded it by hand for about five minutes.

I lightly coated a sheet of parchment paper with flour and proceeded to flatten the dough ball until it was about 1/4 to 3/8 inch thick, and then Amy rolled it with a Guinness glass until it was 1/8 to 1/4 inch thick, flipping it over periodically as she rolled it out.

Amy cut the flattened dough into strips and separated them to dry.

On a cutting board, we cut carrots and celery into bite-sized pieces, and the timer had still not reached zero. Actually, I knew an hour was probably overkill, even for twice the usual amount of chicken as usual, and we started shredding chicken in a bowl with about 55 minutes after we started cooking it. Shredding chicken involves cutting the chicken breast in half and then separating the natural stringiness with a knife and fork.

New York Lamb says, "Eat more chicken."

While it probably didn't need to cook that long, the chicken did shred very nicely, and after shredding two, we put them in a separate pan with about 3/4 of a cup of the hot water from the pot. Then, in the small pan we stirred a package of McCormick's Taco Seasoning Mix plus, because it was about 1 1/2 pounds of chicken rather than 1 pound of beef as would be required by the mix recipe, a little extra seasoned salt, garlic salt, onion flakes, black pepper and ground cumin to amp it to the proper level of seasoning.

While that cooked, we proceeded to shred the other chicken breasts in the bowl (actually, it was more separated into bite-sized chunks than shredded for the soup) and then put the chicken back in the pot with the hot water, into which we put Campbell's Cream of Chicken Soup and a can of milk.

We also added some onion flakes, pepper and salt, but the salt wasn't really necessary. We stirred in the vegetables and set it to simmer, covered. We started to boil water in a separate spaghetti pot into which we should have added salt, but hunger (it was now about 2:30 PM) motivated us to alter our original plan to save the chicken tacos for the next day and instead eat them immediately, so we turned off the kettle of water and soup to be completed later for dinner.

Chef Amy and Acclaimed Food Critic Stephanie Klugman

Everyone who has been to Taco Bell knows how to assemble a soft taco, but I'll tell you how in case you are asking with a humorous regional accent, "Taco?  What's a taco?" 

 

We heated a flour tortilla on a glass plate, added the seasoned shredded chicken, shredded cheese and some diced tomatoes (lettuce is for suckers!), plus a little Tapatillo or salsa for some. We repeated that process until we all had plenty to eat, including Amy's friend Stephanie who as an unbiased observer, declared them to be the true food of the Mayan gods (or at least she thought that, I'm sure).

But I didn't come to tell you about our delicious chicken tacos. No, this is about completing the quest for the perfect noodle. And to do this, we decided the next order of business was to take a hot tub at the Institute's Spa, after which Amy washed her hair while Julie and I enjoyed sitting in lounge chairs under the California sun before returning to the Institute to check e-mails and conduct other important business.

Gina, Emma and Laszlo in NYC

About two hours later, we started heating the soup pot and brought the water kettle (be sure to add salt) to a boil. We couldn't be sure if we had let the noodles dry too long, but they still appeared pliable, so we decided to push forward. Right at that exact moment, the familiar chimes of an incoming Skype call took me to the kitchen table, where the green computer sat open, and I began chatting with other daughter and Associate Professor Gina, on loan to Columbia University in New York, who was soon joined by granddaughter Emma and son-in-law Laszlo, so I didn't actually see Amy put the noodles into the water, but I will accept on faith (and the fact that we ate noodles a few minutes later) that she did so, after the water was at a full boil.  After the noodles cooked for three minutes, Amy, Julie and I shared a sample noodle, unanily mousdeclaring unanimously declaring them to be done and delicious.

We put both pots side by side on hot pads on the counter to avoid splashing soup all over the hot stove where it would be hard to clean, and Julie expertly transferred the noodles from the kettle to the soup pan.

After cooking for another few minutes, allowing the noodles to soak up the flavors of the soup, we down to try our improved recipe. 

And the noodles were good! 


Mom, Darlene and Brooks in February, 2008

Were the noodles as good as my mother's?  Not quite, but this time they were definitely more than just edible.  By comparison to any mortal noodle, they were quite tasty, but the next time, we will try to tweak the recipe with a pinch of salt in the boiling noodle water and this insight from Julie: "Didn't your mom say the recipe was exactly proportional, with two eggs to two cups of flour?"

Yes, we will try that next time.

By the way, as you can tell from the mixing bowl, measuring cup, cutting board, pot, pan, kettle and utensils, this was not the typical Quick-Clean Cuisine easy clean up, but we did not leave a big mess.

Having multiple hands enabled me to clean the dishes as we went along rather than piling them in the sink where they would dry crusty and require scrubbing. 

Because we enjoyed the tacos so much, we didn't eat as many noodles as normal, so we will be having another noodle feast today, in lieu of the chicken tacos we had planned (although we do have enough leftover seasoned shredded chicken for a couple of tacos).

Tip: Try Tri-Tip

As with most activities in life, the biggest obstacle to cooking lies between your own ears. 

Henry Ford said, "Whether you think you can or can't---you're right."

That's not to say that anyone will reward you for your efforts.  You may be the greatest in the world at something, but that won't necessarily lead to a Blue Ribbon for Most Icing (an award I am proud to say I snagged a few years ago, though I don't like to brag) or similar adulation.



Jay and Kendra at Kern River in July, 1989

No, the satisfaction of setting a goal and accomplishing it may lead to nothing more than self-congratulations.  With regard to cooking, however, it also leads to tasty meals.

Long ago, on a family camping trip to the Kern River, we made some great discoveries.  One was that sitting in an innertube to take a bouncy ride through rapids can be a lot of fun, even if it did require a long hike up the stream and occasionally resulted in bruised backsides from bumping over rocks going down the river.  Another was that tri-tip roast beef makes a delicious main course.

My ex-brother-in-law Sam and I had gone to the store (both of us having remembered our wallets as usual despite being in swim trunks most of the day) to pick up Budweiser and the makings for dinner.  An old, bald dude in orange robes, skulking in the shadows, observed us pondering the butcher's display and decided to help out.  "Tri-tip marinated in Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce."  We started to reply, but he held a single finger to his lips and whispered , "Nuff said."  He ran down the shopping aisle, never to be seen outside of his Himalayan monastery again.

We followed this sage advice, and cooked a great dinner over the campfire that night.  The leftovers became the makings of a legendary breakfast, and the rest is history.

A couple of years later, my Carmel Mountain neighbor Roy introduced me to barbecuing the pre-marinated Bill Bailey's Tri-Tip, and over the years, I grilled quite a few of those in assorted flavors. Had the prices not continued to spiral higher and higher, I might still be cooking those exclusively.

Return to Kern River in 1990

I might have reverted to the Kern River recipe, but worcetershire sauce seems to tenderize my gums to the point that they hurt. This may be something that only I experience, but I'll put it out there nonetheless Because of that, when I found trimmed tri-tip on sale at Ralph's for $3.99 per pound and bought the best looking two-pounder (approximate weight) on display, I took it home and marinated it in Lawry's Mesquite Marinade instead. 

Does this sound familiar?  Well, if you think it is quite similar to my preparation for London Broil, you would be completely wrong. You'll detect no British accent here (except for incidental accents of Leo Sayer, Roy (not actually British but close) and the Moody Blues), so this is a totally different dish.  And to prove it, note this meat has a lot more fat on it, even if it has been pre-trimmed.  We don't like fat, so I trim even more off, but that really isn't necessary (or possibly even advisable, depending on how you view the tastiness of fat and its juices).  For us, however, the marbling of the meat is sufficient without much fat on the sides.

Pour marinade on the roast, then spread the sauce around, poking the roast with a knife or fork to maximize absorption of the marinade.  Sprinkle liberally with pepper and either garlic salt or seasoned salt.  Flip the meat over and repeat the marinade and seasoning process.  I put garlic salt on one side and seasoned salt on the other, and I couldn't tell which was which when I ate it, so do whatever works best for you.

Cover it and let it marinade in the refrigerator for at least two or three hours.  Because I always get a plastic bag at the butcher's counter to isolate meat purchases, I just put the styrofoam tray back in the bag and tied it off with a rubber band, saving an extra dish to clean.

About two hours before dinner, pre-heat the oven to 400 degrees, or if you have a convection oven, make that 375. 

Line a glass baking dish in Reynnolds Non-Stick Pan Lining Paper, with the parchment side up.  Carefully transfer the tri-tip to the dish to avoid splattering.

Put it in the oven and cook for 55 minutes in a conventional oven or 48 minutes in a convection oven.

At the end of the time, remove the dish from the oven and cover it in aluminum foil for about a half hour.  This takes it from pretty rare to medium.  If you want it medium rare, reduce the time under foil to five or ten minutes.  The more often you cook any meal, the better you'll get the hang of what is best for your tastes.

For a side dish last night, we had one of the simplest vegetable dishes of all: uncooked carrots with ranch dressing on the side. 

Jay and Julie on Mother's Day, 2013

However, when my son Jay came over for Mother's Day a couple of days earlier, I made sauteed mushrooms as a side dish for meatloaf, and that was great.

To sautee mushrooms, heat a tablespooon of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter Olive Oil Light Spread (boy, that product name rolls off the tongue easily) in a frying pan. 

Rinse and slice six large, fresh mushrooms on a cutting board.  When the ICBINBOOLS is hot, add the mushrooms, then sprinkle liberally with garlic salt.  Stir the mushrooms around to coat them as much as possible, and then add another tablespoon of ICBINBOOLS as you continue mixing it all up.  It only takes two or three minutes to cook mushrooms, and that makes a delicious side dish that really adds a special touch. 

By the way, you can also slice up a yellow squash or zucchini and cook it with the mushrooms in the same manner for an alternative side dish.  Of course you can cook....anything!

And you don't need to make a mess in the process.

Barbecued Pot Roast

Our family has always loved to barbecue, grilling burgers and hot dogs at least once a week while the kids were growing up, so you might find it odd that when Julie and I downsized to a condo in Redondo, we dedicated the small balcony to being a comfortable sitting space for two rather than carving out space for a barbecue grill.

It was one of the compromises we made to get an ocean view home at a price we were prepared to pay.

Besides, according to Amy, grilling meat is theoretically more carcinogenic than other forms of cooking. 

We now eat burgers only when we go out, whether stopping at McDonald's on the road or getting a Lighthouse Burger while listening to live jazz in Hermosa Beach.

As such, that opened up a large slot in our dinner rotation for beef to take the place of hamburgers.

Chuck roast is a rather inexpensive cut of beef generously marbled with fat, so it is best cooked a long time over low heat.  In fact, I mentioned briefly in the previous article that you can basically make something very similar to Beef Bourguignon using chuck roast.

That's what I set out to do last night, but as often happens with me, something went a bit wrong so I adapted the recipe and came up with something better.

To start out, heat a couple of tablespoons of olive oil in a Teflon-coated pot with the heat to medium.  Season a 2 pound chuck roast with seasoned salt and pepper on one side, and when the oil is hot, put that side down in the pot.

Season the other side with garlic salt, pepper, onion flakes and Jamaican All Spice. 

After 7 minutes, turn the roast over with a fork, and you will see that it is braised dark brown (almost blackened).  Braise the other side for 7 minutes.  This seals the juices in.

After both sides are braised, add one can of beef stock and two cups of water.  Bring that to a boil, and then reduce the heat to about halfway between simmer and medium.  Cover and let it cook for two or three hours, turning the meat every twenty minutes or so.  When you turn the meat over, be sure that you haven't cooked away all the liquid.  The longer it cooks, the more tender the meat gets.

Yesterday, at about three hours, most of the liquid was gone, and it was about to start burning on the bottom of the pan.  I didn't have any more beef broth to add, and I didn't want to water it down too much, so instead I diced a large Roma tomato and added that, along with a half cup of water.  I actually thought about using a can of diced tomatoes with peppers that I had on hand to make chili, but Julie despises peppers.  That would definitely work for most people, though.

I chopped up two cups of carrots and added them, but it still didn't look like there was enough liquid in there.  I didn't want to use one of my better bottles of red wine (read wine that cost $5 to $8 a bottle), and I saw about a cup of Sutter Home Sweet Red (our favorite) was still left in the bottle on the counter, so I added that.

I don't know why, because the wine is quite tasty to drink, but the smell that kicked off that particular wine was not good when it hit the pot. I needed to do something to change that aroma, because I don't like it when the first thing Julie says when she comes home is, "What stinks?"  So, I looked at my spices...and as you may guess from the previous articles, that really isn't a huge selection.

In a flash of genius, I thought "Jack Daniels Barbecue Sauce."  I poured a few dollops of that into the liquid surrounding the roast.  Plop plop plop. Plop plop plop plop.  I don't know exactly how much it was, but it sounded like that.  Maybe it was a half cup. 

I stirred around the outside of the meat and then turned the meat over, allowing liquid to go under it.  Immediately, the aroma became tempting rather than repelling.

I commenced chopping up the other vegetables I happened to have in the crisper of my refrigerator: one banana squash and two stalks of celery.

I checked the carrots with a fork, and they were still pretty stiff, but I tasted one, and it was surprisingly flavorful, which was a good sign.

After letting that cook for another five minutes, I added the other vegetables. 

I picked up the beef and allowed the vegetables and liquid to fill the gap in the middle of the pot, and then put the roast on top of them. After another ten minutes, it was done.

The tender meat and vegetables all had a delicious barbecue tang.  Success!

Fatty beef makes for tougher cleanup, but filling the pot with hot water and dish soap along with swiping occasionally with a paper towel does the trick eventually.  '