Poor Rosie. I made her make some tortillas without the lard. I have never had nor will I ever have lard in my pantry. Not that I have anything against it in small quantities, on a rare occasion. Plus, I do know that lard makes tortillas and French fries taste positively heavenly. But if I am going to make these at home, no lard. Also, no Crisco, so Rosie looked at my bottle of peanut oil and bag of whole wheat flour with resigned patience.
Up first - tortilla-esque stuff.
Up first - tortilla-esque stuff.
I know, that's not my peanut oil, but the label on my bottle fell off, so it was unidentifiable. What looks like milk is really 1/2 milk (low-fat) and 1/2 water.
By the way - one thing you should know about me. If I am told I have to do something or do something a certain way, I am hell-bent to rebel and do it differently. What you're supposed to do is combine the dry ingredients then make a well in the center and work in the fat (ie, the lard) until it resembles crumbs, then add in the milk/water.
So, like, I totally didn't do that. No lard, so that method isn't going to work the same. I beat the milk/water with the oil & then added the dry stuff. Why? Because that's how I make pancakes, so that order comes naturally to me. I needed to add a bit more flour to make a nice, workable dough.
By the way - one thing you should know about me. If I am told I have to do something or do something a certain way, I am hell-bent to rebel and do it differently. What you're supposed to do is combine the dry ingredients then make a well in the center and work in the fat (ie, the lard) until it resembles crumbs, then add in the milk/water.
So, like, I totally didn't do that. No lard, so that method isn't going to work the same. I beat the milk/water with the oil & then added the dry stuff. Why? Because that's how I make pancakes, so that order comes naturally to me. I needed to add a bit more flour to make a nice, workable dough.
Kneaded it a few times, shaped it into a nice little balls . . .
. . . and threw them aside for while to "let them rest". Whatever that means. Actually, I think it means that it gives the flour a chance to soak up all the moisture and discover it's doughy destiny, so when you roll it out . . .
(forgive the cadaverous-looking hands - the lighting was weird) . . . they roll into nice rounds. I rolled them nice 'n' thin, so I would have thin tortillas to use as a sandwich wrap. Into the pan they go, and they fried up - oops, I meant cooked up Big Tim, really I did - pretty dang quick.
And here is the end product . . .
They were okay. Not a whole lot of flavor, but then there weren't any seasonings in them. Didn't have the lard deliciousness, but when wrapped around some sandwich goodness or cut into wedges and toasted with olive oil & garlic, they'll do. The edges were a little crispy, so I stacked them and put a damp paper towel on the top & bottom and put them in a plastic bag and tossed them in the fridge. The next morning, they were fine.
Part deux - crepes.
For this one, I used less egg and a little more flour, since regular crepes are very eggy. The batter went in the fridge overnight, I guess for the same reason the tortilla dough had to rest - gives the flour & the liquid time to 'get it on'.
For the first one, I put a little (very little, Big Tim) oil in the pan to cook it, but the finished crepe was too greasy, so I decided there was enough oil in the batter. Plus the fact that it was a non-stick pan. Yeah, no more oil.
After the flip . . .
Part deux - crepes.
For this one, I used less egg and a little more flour, since regular crepes are very eggy. The batter went in the fridge overnight, I guess for the same reason the tortilla dough had to rest - gives the flour & the liquid time to 'get it on'.
For the first one, I put a little (very little, Big Tim) oil in the pan to cook it, but the finished crepe was too greasy, so I decided there was enough oil in the batter. Plus the fact that it was a non-stick pan. Yeah, no more oil.
After the flip . . .
Lovely crepes. And I liked the way they tasted better than the tortillas. I put them in the damp-paper-towel-bag with the tortillas so their slightly crispy edges would also soften. But they weren't quite what I was looking for either, so I will try again with even less egg. But doggie Dixie thought they were delicious and asked very nicely for some more.
Part Tres - Crunchy Noodle Salad
Now, that name does not sound very appetizing to me, and if that's all I knew of this dish, I would not want to make it, but I saw Ina Garten make it on her TV show, and I had to grab a kleenex to wipe the little bit of spittle that ran down my chin when I saw it. I made some modifications, though, since that rebellious streak means I rarely follow a recipe to the letter.
1. I wanted this to be more of a meal, so decided to add some roasted chicken. Rosie offered to roast one for me. And look! When she was cleaning it, she discovered it was pregnant, 'cause it had a baby!
2. No red peppers. Bell peppers do. not. agree with me, and I would have been miserable afterwards. I like the flavor of bell peppers, but they tear me up. The only thing I will go out of my way to eat that is chock-full of green peppers are my mother's sloppy joes. Momma? Are you listening?
3. Whole wheat angel hair noodles instead of white flour noodles.
4. I just thawed out the sugar snap peas and didn't cook them. I like them raw, and they helped put the 'crunchy' in our crunchy noodle salad.
5. Added the following: carrots, sliced mushrooms, seedless cucumber, the chicken, and cilantro instead of parsley. I love cilantro. I love it so much I want to marry cilantro. I have the gene, and BS has the gene, and the Hawthornes have the gene, because Rosie has it growing by the boatloads in her garden, earning her my eternal gratitude. Some of it was in bloom, and the bitty little flowers are also supposed to be edible. We preferred to pose them amidst their brethren and take pictures.
In fact, it's now really the next day and I think I'll have some for lunch . . . . a few minutes later: it's even good cold from the fridge.
p.s. Big Tim, we went out and walked a mile after noodle salad lunch.
Poor Rosie, now she felt duty-bound to get some whole wheat noodles for our spaghetti tonight.
Now, that name does not sound very appetizing to me, and if that's all I knew of this dish, I would not want to make it, but I saw Ina Garten make it on her TV show, and I had to grab a kleenex to wipe the little bit of spittle that ran down my chin when I saw it. I made some modifications, though, since that rebellious streak means I rarely follow a recipe to the letter.
1. I wanted this to be more of a meal, so decided to add some roasted chicken. Rosie offered to roast one for me. And look! When she was cleaning it, she discovered it was pregnant, 'cause it had a baby!
2. No red peppers. Bell peppers do. not. agree with me, and I would have been miserable afterwards. I like the flavor of bell peppers, but they tear me up. The only thing I will go out of my way to eat that is chock-full of green peppers are my mother's sloppy joes. Momma? Are you listening?
3. Whole wheat angel hair noodles instead of white flour noodles.
4. I just thawed out the sugar snap peas and didn't cook them. I like them raw, and they helped put the 'crunchy' in our crunchy noodle salad.
5. Added the following: carrots, sliced mushrooms, seedless cucumber, the chicken, and cilantro instead of parsley. I love cilantro. I love it so much I want to marry cilantro. I have the gene, and BS has the gene, and the Hawthornes have the gene, because Rosie has it growing by the boatloads in her garden, earning her my eternal gratitude. Some of it was in bloom, and the bitty little flowers are also supposed to be edible. We preferred to pose them amidst their brethren and take pictures.
The supporting players in my noodle salad party are (I used teriyaki sauce instead of soy sauce since that's all I had):
In fact, it's now really the next day and I think I'll have some for lunch . . . . a few minutes later: it's even good cold from the fridge.
p.s. Big Tim, we went out and walked a mile after noodle salad lunch.
Poor Rosie, now she felt duty-bound to get some whole wheat noodles for our spaghetti tonight.
5 comments:
gives the flour & the liquid time to 'get it on'.I have that song playing in my head now. I blame you.
Heh. You're welcome.
"...so Rosie looked at my bottle of peanut oil and bag of whole wheat flour with resigned patience."
Heh, Rosie & resigned patience in the same sentence. Good one!
Yeah, xmaskatie, she was itchin' I tell ya. Just itchin'.
Oh, boy - I love that chickin' pichr where she had her baby!!
Teriyucky is better than soy sauce - just got some No-Salt (pretty good stuff)and give it a tinkle!
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