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The Joy of Cooking; The Pain of Talking
Apr. 2nd, 2024 09:00 am
Yesterday I cooked twice! The first time it was malfada pasta with pancetta breadcrumbs, which was pretty good. I tried to keep the salt to a minimum because the pancetta and capers would carry most of that through the dish and the result was pretty decent. It let more of the ingredients come through than before, so you notice the earthiness of the mushrooms, the freshness of the scallions, how the creamy marscapone mellows out the sharp smoke flavor of the tomato paste. I ended up adding a *bit* more salt on the plate, but it's nice to know I'm getting more precise with my seasoning.
Switching from kosher to "table" salt really makes a difference. It's true that you have more precise control over the amount and, when you over-season it, it's a lot easier to pull back. I should do the 'one-two-three' finger pinch weight experiment again, just to know how much I'm using at any given addition.
The evening was sweet and spicy chicken sandwiches -- a lot of fun! I really dig working with chicken actually, especially when I get to brine it beforehand. You pound the chicken to 1/4-inch thickness and then let it bathe in a buttermilk, egg, and chili wash for at least ten minutes. While that's chilling, slice some scallions and combine with mayo, salt, and pepper for the bottom dressing. A thin-sliced Persian cucumber is marinated in kimchi for the top dressing.
The side was simple, some oven-roasted fingerling potatoes tossed in olive oil, salt, and pepper, baked at 450 for 20 minutes. The marinated chicken's coated in a dusting of flour and cornstarch, fried for about 6 or 7 minutes on each side for a golden-brown crust, and immediately drizzled with honey, a bit more chili, and some salt. Buns are toasted in the fond left behind, and there you go!
I think if I had it to do over I would have dry-brined the chicken with salt *before* throwing it in with the buttermilk and egg. It'd make for a better-seasoned sandwich and, I think, really help the nice tang of the buttermilk shine a bit more. Maybe I would have added more salt on finishing, too -- the honey drizzle really compromised the texture of the chicken breast, so maybe I would have put it on top of the kimchi and cucumber instead.
Still, the sandwich was good enough that I could easily throw together that recipe in a pinch. I think I'd use the egg-flour-panko method after fridging the chicken in the buttermilk for 30 minutes or so.
It was a good food day. :)
Other than that, things were...a little stressful. A friend of mine with treatment-resistant depression resurfaced, asking if things were OK between us. I had to be honest, as gently as I could, and told him how talking to him brings up difficult emotions for me. The resentment I feel is not something I'm proud of, because I know how fucked up it is. But I mean, I've got shit I'm working through too.
His mother recently died, which is an awful thing to go through. While he was going through it though, and telling me about the insurance payments, and the inheritance, and the chance to go through his mom's things...all I could think is how I didn't get any of that.
Mom was living in the hovel she made of our childhood home, filled with bags of soiled clothing because she couldn't get down to the basement and wash her laundry. Some of those bags could have had her remaining jewelry, or mementos, but we'll never know because she reverse-mortgaged the house without consulting anyone. I never got the life insurance even though I had been paying the policy for years because no one told me that my years-dead brother was the primary beneficiary, even though I had power of attorney for a decade before her death. All I got for years of bureaucratic fuckery was more debt and more headache.
It's hard listening to someone ignore the advice they came to you for so they can spend that inheritance on very expensive classic video games. Or just...flush the effort you're putting into helping them because it's not what they want to hear.
I'm not proud of any of this, but it's how I feel. And when you have to be *very* careful about what you say because this person is very sensitive about rejection, it's just...more than I have room for right now.
Then I had to have two *separate* conversations about how someone was soooo into my husband and were either delighted or devastated that we're trying out a relationship that could become more than friendly. I'm still sorting through my feelings about all of THAT, but it's hard to talk about -- or even fully understand them -- because you know, have to be present for the people coming to you to feel better.
It was a lot of emotional labor. Today, I think I might be a little more focused on work.
Switching from kosher to "table" salt really makes a difference. It's true that you have more precise control over the amount and, when you over-season it, it's a lot easier to pull back. I should do the 'one-two-three' finger pinch weight experiment again, just to know how much I'm using at any given addition.
The evening was sweet and spicy chicken sandwiches -- a lot of fun! I really dig working with chicken actually, especially when I get to brine it beforehand. You pound the chicken to 1/4-inch thickness and then let it bathe in a buttermilk, egg, and chili wash for at least ten minutes. While that's chilling, slice some scallions and combine with mayo, salt, and pepper for the bottom dressing. A thin-sliced Persian cucumber is marinated in kimchi for the top dressing.
The side was simple, some oven-roasted fingerling potatoes tossed in olive oil, salt, and pepper, baked at 450 for 20 minutes. The marinated chicken's coated in a dusting of flour and cornstarch, fried for about 6 or 7 minutes on each side for a golden-brown crust, and immediately drizzled with honey, a bit more chili, and some salt. Buns are toasted in the fond left behind, and there you go!
I think if I had it to do over I would have dry-brined the chicken with salt *before* throwing it in with the buttermilk and egg. It'd make for a better-seasoned sandwich and, I think, really help the nice tang of the buttermilk shine a bit more. Maybe I would have added more salt on finishing, too -- the honey drizzle really compromised the texture of the chicken breast, so maybe I would have put it on top of the kimchi and cucumber instead.
Still, the sandwich was good enough that I could easily throw together that recipe in a pinch. I think I'd use the egg-flour-panko method after fridging the chicken in the buttermilk for 30 minutes or so.
It was a good food day. :)
Other than that, things were...a little stressful. A friend of mine with treatment-resistant depression resurfaced, asking if things were OK between us. I had to be honest, as gently as I could, and told him how talking to him brings up difficult emotions for me. The resentment I feel is not something I'm proud of, because I know how fucked up it is. But I mean, I've got shit I'm working through too.
His mother recently died, which is an awful thing to go through. While he was going through it though, and telling me about the insurance payments, and the inheritance, and the chance to go through his mom's things...all I could think is how I didn't get any of that.
Mom was living in the hovel she made of our childhood home, filled with bags of soiled clothing because she couldn't get down to the basement and wash her laundry. Some of those bags could have had her remaining jewelry, or mementos, but we'll never know because she reverse-mortgaged the house without consulting anyone. I never got the life insurance even though I had been paying the policy for years because no one told me that my years-dead brother was the primary beneficiary, even though I had power of attorney for a decade before her death. All I got for years of bureaucratic fuckery was more debt and more headache.
It's hard listening to someone ignore the advice they came to you for so they can spend that inheritance on very expensive classic video games. Or just...flush the effort you're putting into helping them because it's not what they want to hear.
I'm not proud of any of this, but it's how I feel. And when you have to be *very* careful about what you say because this person is very sensitive about rejection, it's just...more than I have room for right now.
Then I had to have two *separate* conversations about how someone was soooo into my husband and were either delighted or devastated that we're trying out a relationship that could become more than friendly. I'm still sorting through my feelings about all of THAT, but it's hard to talk about -- or even fully understand them -- because you know, have to be present for the people coming to you to feel better.
It was a lot of emotional labor. Today, I think I might be a little more focused on work.
