Quarantine Kitchen: A Sauce That Goes With Everything (Except Maybe Dessert)

Do you know what this is?

I’ve decided not to number each dish or recipe or even each Quarantine Kitchen post individually. What if the numbers reached triple digits? That would be disheartening, wouldn’t it? So I’ll just go along from now on, one day at a time, combining more than one experiment into each post. Today, for example, I have to report one blazing success, one save, and one near-complete flop. I’d call that last a complete flop, except that my quarantine partner was happy with the results, and we did eat them. First, however, the success.

“What is it?” neighbor Therese asked during our walk with dogs, when I told her neighbor Dorothy had suggested I make a batch of chimichurri with parsley from her, Dorothy’s, greenhouse. I’d never heard of chimichurri before and was reminded of a song from the “Mary Poppins” (the movie) sung — well, performed — by Dick Van Dyke. 

I packed that quarter-cup measure full

When you look up chimichurri, as I know you will and I encourage you to do, you’ll learn that it is an Argentinian sauce, used as often in Argentina as red and green salsa are here in the borderland, though it has more in common with Italian pesto. You’ll also quickly realize that there is great controversy about which ingredients may be included, which must be, and which would make any self-respecting Argentinian roll over in his or her grave. For instance, one recipe I read online got five stars and raves in the form of “I love this recipe!” from several readers, while others were outraged and said it was “not chimchurri at all!”

Maybe mine was "not chimchurri at all" — who am I to judge? — but I can tell you that we loved it!

I have no food processor but am now possessed of a simple blender, and that would have to do. Chopped fresh parsley (1/4 cup), chopped garlic (4 big cloves), balsamic vinegar, salt, crushed red pepper, and oregano went into the blender. 

Right from the start, though, I had to make adjustments in the basic recipe I'd chosen to follow: (1) With no red wine vinegar on hand, balsamic vinegar would have to do; however, it is a very strong-flavored vinegar, so (2) I reduced the three tablespoons to two tablespoons and added a tablespoon of water to make up the difference. Also, (3) as I had no oregano leaves but only ground oregano (oregano molido), I cut that amount in half as well. (4) Olive oil was to be added only when the parsley mixture went from food processor to bowl, but in my case, as it began in the blender I added some of the olive oil then and there, for the sake of consistency. 

Getting all that in the bowl at last, I added the remainder of the olive oil, after which it had to sit 10 minutes before being stirred. The suspense was nerve-wracking! After stirring and a tiny, tentative taste, there was still the suspense of how the sauce would work to complement the evening’s chicken. 

With olive oil floating on top before stirring

The photo at the top of the screen today is the final product. 

I neglected to photograph the plated dinner but can report that the the sauce was delicious not only on the chicken but also on the sweet potato and steamed broccoli! And that the following evening it brought a fresh tomato salad to sparkling life! Dorothy tells me it’s good simply spread on bread, so there’s something we can try in the days ahead.

Chimichurri — resounding success in the quarantine kitchen and something that will spark up our meals for, I hope, many years to come!

Something else, an experiment that was disappointing on the first day, turned around and became (surprisingly) glorious by the second. I had been preparing an entire post on bananas and how there’s more you can do with them than make banana bread. For example (and I have photographs for these), banana pancakes. For a more obvious example, fruit smoothies.

Handy new blender again

I make my own yogurt at home during the months my bookstore is closed, but one of the tricks of making yogurt is to avoid ultrapasturized milk. Sadly, the last time I shopped, all I could find was ultrapasteurized. What would happen? I tried and found out. The yogurt did not set up but had a runny, gooey, gluey consistency. Oh, well, I could put it on my granola, couldn’t I? And how could it hurt a fruit smoothie?

Substandard homemade yogurt, a couple of very ripe bananas, mango-coconut juice, a handful of blueberries and a handful of raspberries from the freezer all went into the blender. The result was drinkable. The taste was all right. The consistency, however, was disappointing. Not like a smoothie at all. My quarantine partner (known in my main blog as the Artist) turned down the offer of a disappointing smoothie, and I couldn’t blame him at all.

Not the best I've ever made

But waste not, want not. I am my grandmother’s daughter! Into the fridge it went. And lo and behold! The next day the consistency and texture had undergone a transformation! My smoothie (and it still tasted good) had become rich and thick and velvety smooth. Very satisfying!

A miracle!

I’ll note one more experiment but without a single image and without detailing the foolish improvisation I made that led to failure. The experiment was cheese popovers. Cheese popovers were one of my mother specialties, and for years someone has entreated me to make them for him. Okay, it felt like the time had come. We needed a treat. Long story short: they didn’t pop. I have figured out what I did wrong, though, and the next time will be a success — with pictures.

Thanks for visiting. Hope you are managing to enjoy a few experiments in your quarantine kitchen. -- I should say "sheltering-in-place kitchen" but the sound works better with the stronger word.

What To Do When Restaurants Close: Savory Sweet Potato Pie

Soup is only one idea

One of my sisters in Illinois told me that as of Monday, 16 March, 2002, all restaurants in the state will close for a minimum of two weeks. Governor’s orders. I guess the situation will be reassessed as the two-week deadline approaches. “Chicago? Restaurants in Chicago?” the Artist asked, disbelieving and aghast as, for the first time, it occurs to him that travel back to Michigan could be more difficult than usual. I’d already been mentally reviewing road food provisions for the trip, still a month and a half in the future — the unforeseeable future, as it now appears, more and more.  I mean, all the sidewalk cafes in Paris are closed!

Travel aside, what does one do when restaurant dining is not an option? Most of us eat at home as a general rule, anyway, saving restaurant meals for special occasions. And haven’t we all been stocking our home pantries against the possibility of being on “lock-down” (as one friend calls it) for a minimum of two weeks, in case of quarantine? Obviously, if under absolute quarantine, we would have to eat all our meals at home.

Little things play important roles

I’d already been thinking of making a list of Things to Do (in general) when “going out” is not an option and exercised a few of them during the day: walking the dog; photographing the first spring blossoms; reorganizing under-counter cupboards; and pruning back a mesquite I’ve been wanting to prune for over a year and could finally get at, thanks to a recent thrift shop purchase. When I idly mentioned the idea of making, one of these days, a savory — not sweet — sweet potato pie, however, the Artist was instantly on board and began questioning me as to the list of ingredients. Garlic, I told him, and spices. Onions? Bacon? he inquired hopefully. Just a smidgeon of bacon, I agreed. Onions, of course.

None of the recipes I could find, in cookbooks or online, exactly matched the idea in my head, so I made my pie up as I went along. 

Garlic cloves slow simmered and mashed together with cooked sweet potato.

Bacon cut up and cooked in a pan.

Onions sliced, diced, and sautéed in olive oil until soft and transparent.

Bacon, onions, eggs, milk, and olive oil mixed into sweet potato and garlic. Cumin and turmeric, too.

Rosemary and Parmesan cheese added to the dough for the crust. 

(Specks in dough are rosemary.)

I chose to fold the crust over, rustic style, though there 

was a bit much of it for that treatment. Once in the oven, it smelled heavenly. Six million dollar question: How would it turn out?

........

Answer: GREAT!

No kidding, if I had a restaurant, I would put this on the menu! And the pie server recently added to kitchen implements came in handy, too. Altogether, the project and results made for a very cheerful evening.