Tiger Potatoes

They were going to be called "Zebra Potatoes" before I ran a Google search to see if anyone else had coined the term. Turns out "Zebra chip" is slang for a pathogen that makes potato chips come out all brown-streaked and weird looking. I opted not to willingly associate a potato-based side dish I'd made with a potato-attacking pathogen. Seemed like it would be both bad luck and a little gross.

You may have run across these Ze... ahem... Tiger Potatoes before. You may even have invented something similar yourself. They're very simple to make, and if anyone in your family prefers white potatoes to sweet, this is a great way to pump a few more vitamins into said heretic.

All you need are a russet potato, a sweet potato, and seasoning/garnish of choice to serve two.

Step #1

Peel your potatoes and cut wedges into the tops, leaving at least 1/4" of flesh in tact along the bottom. Reserve the wedges.

Step #2

Insert wedges into the potato of the opposite color as shown. If they don't quite fit, you can opt to trim them down or widen the crevices.

Step #3

Wrap each potato securely in a paper towel and place right-side-up in your microwave. Microwave on high for three minutes.

Step #4

Let cool a little bit before attempting to remove the paper towel, but don't wait too long or it will stick. Serve them up however you're inclined. I butterflied mine and added butter, salt, pepper, nutmeg, and a bit of fresh dill.

Have you ever made Tiger Potatoes? I imagine I'm not the first, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. The only thing missing from mine was big dollops of sour cream. Wish I'd had some in the house.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Awards Season Is Still Going Strong

Rabbit, rabbit!

Once again, a fellow blogger whom I admire very much has flattered me with the Kreativ Blogger Award. If you haven't already, please pay The Colors of Indian Cooking a visit. Writer Kathy Gori serves up some delectable dishes, and I learn something new whenever I read her blog.

I'm supposed to tell you seven fun facts about myself, but I have decided not bore you with that part again. I am just an ordinary person (unlike Kathy, who has voiced Hanna-Barbara cartoons!!)

The rules also state that you must pass the award on to seven other bloggers. This, I will do. A lot of great people inhabit the blogging community, and it was difficult to pick just seven last time, so I'm glad I get another chance.

November Edition Nominees (in Alphabetical Order):

Brooklyn Farmhouse

Eating Local in the Tropics

Just Cook It

Living in the Kitchen With Puppies

Mediterranean Cooking in Alaska

Salty Seattle

Sunshine Mom

These bloggers differ greatly from one another, but each electrifies the blogosphere with passion and creativity. Congrats to them! (If this is your first time receiving the award, please tell us seven interesting facts about yourself and nominate seven other blogs that you are proud to follow.)

Next on the agenda...

Results of the Roasted Salad pictured above? Meh. The vinaigrette was a little weird. I couldn't cut the tartness of the lime without adding more olive oil, and since I had already used olive oil in the roasting process I was hesitant to make a big oily mess of the whole affair.

As always, please feel free to tweak this at home and email me/comment with your results.

Roasted Salad

Ingredients

Roasted Vegetables

3 sweet potatoes, peeled and diced large

1/2 red onion, diced large

2 stalks celery, rinsed and sliced

1/2 tsp. olive oil

1/8 tsp. cinnamon

Pinch ground cloves

Salt 'n' pepper to taste

Sweet Lime Vinaigrette

1 tsp. lime juice

Pinch salt

1 Tbsp. olive oil

1 tsp. honey

Quick dash dijon mustard

1/8 tsp. celery seed

Pinch black pepper

Directions

Heat oven to 425.

Toss the sweet potato, onion, and celery in a mixing bowl with the olive oil, cinnamon, cloves, salt, and pepper. (This seems like a small amount of olive oil, but little fat is needed for roasting.)

Spread the mixture in a baking pan or other oven-proof vessel. If possible, maintain a single layer.

Bake at 425 for 25 minutes.

Go read the next chapter of your book or something.

Remove veggies from the oven. Transfer them to a heat-proof container with a lid that seals. (Do not put the lid on yet.)

While the veggies are cooling, squeeze the lime juice into a small cup or dish and add salt. Let this sit at least ten minutes, then whisk vigorously. Add the rest of the vinaigrette ingredients and whisk again.

Pour the vinaigrette over the veggies and put the lid on. Holding the lid firmly, shake to distribute the vinaigrette. Leave this on the counter and go read another chapter of your book or something.

When the mixture has cooled down enough to refrigerate without compromising your fridge's other contents, shake it one more time and chill for two to forty-eight hours. Shake or stir again before serving. Can be brought to the table chilled, at room temperature, or reheated. Serves 4.

Hope you had a happy Halloween!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Non-Panade

No idea what a panade with no cheese is called. I would have said vegan panade, except that I will never under any circumstance call something vegan in the Chickenless Kitchen. This is out of utmost respect for my vegan friends (those who are chickenless in the most literal sense of the word) having to deal with jackasses like me who go, "Oh, yeah, it's totally vegan," and then it turns out that I was ignorant and large red kidney beans are actually an animal product somehow. Great care and effort goes into that lifestyle, and I'm not about to thwart anyone's attempt at accurate recipe research by overlooking something that I didn't consider because my cold-blooded omnivorous piehole gets stuffed full of it every day.

On that note I present to you a Non-Panade that, if not vegan, can hopefully be made so with a few simple tweaks. In any case, it can be made a number of ways with a number of results. Which is what the Chickenless Kitchen is all about.

Non-Panade

Ingredients

10 asparagus spears

2 Tbsp. olive oil

1 large onion, sliced thin (I used a small yellow one plus two extra slices of red)

1/2 head of garlic, cloves separated and sliced

1/3 c. dry lentils, rinsed and picked over

Salt, slightly more than to taste

5-6 slices any type of day-old bread (or in my case week-old bread), vegan if preferred

1 rooty-tuber-type vegetable, peeled and grated (I used sweet potato, but I imagine a white boiling potato or Yukon Gold would also work)

3 2/3 c. veggie broth

1/3 c. wine (I used a Spanish red that was on the sweet side)

1 1/2 Tbsp. butter or additional olive oil

(Isn't grated sweet potato pretty??)

Directions

Blanch the asparagus spears, then cut them into bite-size pieces.

Heat olive oil in a large saucepan over medium-low. Add the onion, garlic, and asparagus. Stir to coat in oil. Cover and cook for about 17 minutes, or until all are kinda-sorta-mostly soft.

Heat the oven to 350.

Turn the heat up to medium-high under the vegetables and remove cover. Add lentils and salt slightly more than to taste; especially if using a sweet onion, sweet potato, and sweet wine like I did. Saute about 5 minutes more or until the asparagus is soft enough to eat as is. Remove from heat.

Combine wine and broth. Place the mixture over low heat.

Divide each bread slice into 4 pieces. Arrange on a baking sheet and bake in 350 degree oven for 5-6 minutes, or until crispy but still light in color.

Arrange about half the bread pieces on the bottom of an ovenproof dish with an equally-ovenproof lid (I used a round casserole 8" in diameter, which worked perfectly for these ingredient proportions... small wonder, considering I'm the one giving you the recipe). Arrange half the onion mix on top, then follow with half the rooty-tuber-type vegetable. Repeat so that you have two layers of each.

Remember the tea kettle trick from the New Orlexeek Red Beans and Rice post? Aw yeah, here it comes again... transfer the broth to something with a spout, then pour it down the sides of the dish until you see a wine-tinged substance threatening to carry your top layer away in a tidal wave.

Oooohhh, doesn't it look so ominous, lurking down there?

Anyhoo, if you're using butter, cut it up in a bunch of little slabs and distribute it evenly over the top. If you're using olive oil, drizzle it on.

Bake at 350 with cover on for 45 minutes. Continue to bake with cover off for 30 additional minutes. Serves 3 for lunch with a salad; 4 if you're going to have it as a prelude to a big fat roast pheasant; 5 if you're going to have it as a prelude to a big fat roast pheasant with this for dessert... or this... or this. (Props to Salty Seattle, Food o' del Mundo, and Natalie's Killer Cuisine respectively!)

Be sure to bring the serving dish to the table, because if you divvy it up in the kitchen, it just looks like you decided your guests would enjoy a big glob of soggy bread for dinner:

This is a Patented Chickenless Kitchen Rip-Off, based on any number of traditional soups that came before it. Panade is a terrific skeleton to work with, particularly if you are just delving into the world of creating your own recipes. Please feel free to throw your hat into the ring and let me know how your version comes out.

Yesterday I mentioned my plans to do some SOLE-searching (har, har, har). All I can tell you so far is that this Friday's Chickenless Cook of the Week will interest folks who want to eat responsibly despite a hectic schedule. Please stop by and leave a kind word for him if you feel so inclined.

Tomorrow... the oatmeal clafouti recipe goes up! Better late than never (though by now I've built the suspense so much that you're going to make it and think it sucks). My Foodbuzz friends know what I'm talkin' about. For those who don't, here's an instant replay:

TTFN!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Rainbow Plate Part 1

I've viewed a lot of food blog posts lately that use hefty doses of color to mouth-watering effect. Since reprioritizing the geographic origins of my ingredients, presentation has taken a backseat. And that sucks. Particularly on this blog.

So this evening I chose to serve a dish incorporating every color of the rainbow.

I won't waste your time with the recipe- really, it's just a few separate very conventional recipes thrown together. The components are as follows: first I laid a bed of raw spinach (green) on the serving platter (blue). Next came the breaded and baked sweet potato wedges (orange). Then, in the center of the fanned-out sweet potatoes, a couple servings' worth of curried lentils and rice (supposed to be yellow, but turned out more brown). Then the chopped sauteed bell peppers (red) and onions (violet). And finally, because my curry didn't turn out as yellow as I wanted it, that lonely bite of pineapple as a garnish. (Okay, I cheated a little bit, but who cares about indigo anyway?)

Ta-da! The Chickenless Kitchen's very first rainbow plate. I'll probably do more of them, since this exercise is simple enough and produces automatically attractive food. It would be nice to present at a party; but as we had no guests, hubby and I just dug in.

Quick critical note to self: no more red bell peppers with curry. I don't know why. After all, plenty of other sweet veggies tend to work out great. Does anyone have a scientific explanation (one involving the layout of the taste buds, perhaps)? I dunno, maybe I just ruined it by drinking Newcastle with it. In any case, tomatoes would have made a fine substitute.

Should you decide to make a rainbow plate of your own, feel free to email me pics and recipes. I would love to see what you come up with!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Pumpkin Ale Sweet Potatoes (Or "Yams" for You Yanks... Provided You Yanks Care to Eat Them at All)

When I pulled the first beer out of the six-pack and saw this, I knew it was time (read like a mystic in a Stephen King novel)... time to try pumpkin ale sweet potatoes. It's not an idea that works with just any beer, but I thought the bittersweet flavor of pumpkin ale would lend itself well to the recipe; even more so than Sam Adams Brown Ale, which I tried last fall.

Boy, was I off.

It would take way more sweeteners than I have under my roof to get the bitterness out of this puppy. Anyway, here's what I did. See if you can fix it.

Pumpkin Ale Sweet Potatoes

Ingredients

4 large sweet potatoes, baked and skins removed

2 Tbsp. butter

2 Tbsp. brown sugar

1 tsp. orange blossom honey

1/4 tsp. salt

Pinch each of nutmeg, cinnamon, and ground cloves

1 bottle pumpkin ale of your choice (I prefer Shipyard)

Directions

While the potatoes are still hot enough to melt the butter, mash all ingredients except beer in a large bowl with a fork or potato masher. Add beer a couple tbsp. at a time, mashing intermittently, until the texture has changed but still doesn't count as soupy. This should take not quite half your beer. Drink the rest... it makes your screwed-up sweet potatoes taste better.

Serves 4.

As I mentioned, I had better results with Sam Adams Brown Ale, so feel free to sub that if you want a sure(r) thing. Also feel free to write me/send pics if you come up with any cool original pumpkin ale recipes. For now, I'm thinking that the overload of sweeteners required suggests pie or beer bread. Of course, there's always just drinking it already.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.