Mongolian Hotpot--The Girlfriend Test

Well, that’s what we called it. Sounded foreign, exotic. If the label alone scared off the girl, all the better. Who needs vapid genes? I go for intrepid every time. When one has sons like Brooklyn and Chicago, one needs to be watchful. Like their father (except in one notable instance), they go for cute.

Before Brooklyn met and married London and when Chicago was still living at home, we had a test for new girlfriends. Or rather I had a test. DH could care less. Is she cute? Can she carry on a conversation? Stuff like that is all he cares about. He might diss the girl later, but he wasn’t into testing her limits. I definitely was. After all, this could be the future mother of my grandchildren. What’s she made of?

Okay, I’ll admit that starting the test when the boys were dating at 16 may have been, well, premature, but that meant that I had perfected my testing skills by the time things were likely to get serious.

In the interests of supporting mothers of sons who are dating, I am sharing this simple test with you. Two words. Mongolian Hotpot.

I have absolutely no memory of where this originated. Maybe we had it at a restaurant and I said, as I usually do, “I can make that!” Or maybe people in a novel I read dined on it. Beats me.

The upfront work of prepping veggies is a bonus. You get to spend more time grilling the girl than slaving away in the kitchen. All is done before the little thing arrives. That allows lots and lots of conversation before dinner. By the time the sweat beads appear on her trembling little lip, you are ready for the final test: Mongolian Hotpot.

Simply put, I heat broth of some flavor with onions, carrots, and mushrooms and let it cool down. I strain out the veggies and it is ready to reheat again to boiling in a fondue pot set in the center of the dining table alongside the plate of veggies and bowl of brown rice.

Also prepared in advance are the veggies: green onion stalks, whole mushrooms, bean sprouts, spinach leaves, celery and carrot matchsticks, and thin slices of chicken, shrimp, and beef. Put a loaf of bread out, and voilà, dinner is served.

Each person skewers what heesh would like to start with and lets their fork sit in the boiling broth until done to taste. Sometimes one loses one’s food and has to go fishing for it. And of course, your food comes in contact with others’ food, and might be considered, by the squeamish, to be contaminated. How well does the young woman cope with the fishing and the touching? I watch. What does she choose? I watch. Can she carry on a conversation while fishing? I watch.

London passed the test, even though she is not an adventuresome eater, so we welcomed her into our family. Chicago has a new girlfriend, Minnie, whom I am eager to test. Could it be why Chicago has not brought her home yet? Nah? He doesn’t know about the test? Does he?

What Makes a Recipe a New Recipe?

Nancy the Nun, DH’s sister (I mean really—she’s a sister sister!) was visiting us recently from one of those states with old mountains—Tennessee, Kentucky, you know, one of them. And I was cooking away. It’s what I do.

Of course one tries to do one’s best to feed one’s sister-in-law sister. Who knows what pull she might have for, er, later? So I was whipping up something I am trying out for a possible entrant into the Pillsbury Bake-Off (PBO)and she asked what I thought was a naïve question.

In my previous professional life, the term “naïve question” meant a question asked by someone specifically to stimulate thinking and thoughtful response. A planned question. It was purposeful and not really meant to elicit a specific answer.

Now, that’s not what Nancy the Nun’s question was. She just was curious and wanted to know. She didn’t really care that she kick-started my aging brain.

She asked, “What makes a recipe new? How do you know?”

Beats me!

I am always inventing culinary experiences that I call new recipes. But are they?

So here’s what I told her. Chime in below in the comments section to enlighten me if I misspoke.

I look around in my cupboards, refrigerator, freezer, counter tops—wherever food might lurk—and decide what’s for dinner. Or what I might want to enter in the PBO. I put it together in what my taste bud in my head thinks will be a delectable combo. (Mostly I’m right—mostly—hey, everybody can have one or two or . . . well, some less successful experiences.)

I have on occasion gone to www.allrecipes.com and typed in ingredients to see what their recipe bank suggests. But that is rare. Typical behavior for me? Wing it!

Do I know if my recipe is original? No. But I call it original because my proportions and ingredients are unlikely to match another’s recipe exactly. Could I hunt for it to see if it’s original? Probably. The web is amazing that way. Still, why go to the bother?

Unless you are entering your recipe in the PBO, that is. My guess is they have a whole team of scourers (not cleaning people) who search the All Recipes site and others hunting for those who have ripped off other peoples’ work.

They exist, sadly. We see them in these blogs all the time. I work hard at giving credit where credit is due. But, I may inadvertently claim something as mine that is not.

After all, cookies will have flour and sugar and butter in certain proportions. Is it plagiarizing to take a basic cookie recipe and change the additional ingredients and then call it your own? I don’t think so.

Basic chemistry requires proportional cooking. That can’t be copyrighted. Ideas can’t be copyrighted. Only text. And making a significant percentage of change to textual ingredients should be okay to claim originality. Right? Or do you think I’m wrong?

Food Porn

Who would have suspected I would succumb? Searching for sites that showed luscious curves, moistly exposed. Artistically displayed against a background meant to enhance their wares. Food porn. A field I was only vaguely aware of until I began connecting, social-media wise.

Did you know what a big deal it is? I mean, all of us foodies have heard about “food stylists”, those guys/gals who stage food for magazine shoots. Sure. And the rumor is it isn’t even food. Just painted plastic meant to look like food. But I never believed that. Like Santa, magazine food is real food. How could they fool an amateur like me?

But “food porn” is the term all over the foodie sites referring to the sinfully richly displayed recipes my virtual friends are making. And they enter these photos in contests and send them off to magazines for publication. Who knew?

Typing “food porn” into Google yielded 19, 900, 000 hits! Wikipedia offers a definition. “Food Porn Daily” (at http://bit.ly/1w7ftl) is a site telling you everything you need to know about it. And the pictures. OMG! Stop licking your screen!

A quote on their site from The New Yorker says it best: “The point is to get very close to what you are filming, so close that you can see an ingredient’s ‘pores’ (You should believe the dish is in your living room), which then triggers some kind of Neanderthal reflex. If you’re flicking from channel to channel and come upon food that has been shot in this way, you will be hardwired as a human being to stop, look, and bring it back to your cave.”

Well, we all do know that this is one area of food in which I have little interest in pursuing—except as a voyeur. There is something delightful about coming across a photo of Oreo Smash in its blue bowl that makes we want to bite into my computer screen. (Visit Amy’s “Very Culinary” blog at http://bit.ly/19jPGA and scroll down.) That is one beautiful picture.

Or happen upon Recipe Girl’s Fudgy Caramel Brownies (at her blog http://bit.ly/EU6pg) and tell me you didn’t almost stick out your tongue to catch a drip of that caramel.

Do you think you could get your family to eat green chips? Take a look at the Crispy Kale Chips (at Laura’s Best Recipes at http://bit.ly/10KDoy) and tell me you don’t think they look tempting.

Or Ethan Adeland’s “Tastes Better with Friends” (http://bit.ly/a5NbMI) Potato Leek Soup photographed in a snow bank and his astounding Cherry Snowball cookies from his grandmother’s cookbook. Yum, yum!

And Reader, these are merely a few of the food porn opportunities that await. You’ll be bringing a fork and spoon to your computer once you discover food porn sites. And telling people that you, a highly respectable parent/teacher/crossing guard/librarian/contractor/file clerk, are into porn—well the look they’ll give you will just be the cherry on the top of your delight!

Correction Alert! Wild Cinnamon and Cup Cakes

I added more to the previous post than was needed. Drop the "e".

The microwave chocolate cake recipe belongs to Ethan Adeland at "Tastes Better with Friends". You can follow him on Twitter @EthanAdeland

My apologies to you and Ethan. I really hate to spell someone's name wrong. My bad. My really, really bad!

Omelets-in-a-Bag

I’m hugely into cooking, not so much into clean up, so when I find something that lets me feed a horde, and all I have to do is dry the water off the pan, I’m there!

I have an article for omelets in a bag, written for camping meals, that was published in the 1960’s or 70’s. This thing is not new, but it is one of the best-kept secrets ever.

Okay. Disclaimer. Not one of the slide-zip plastic freezer bag companies endorses this use of their bags. Lawyers were involved, I’m just sure of it.

Still. This is so cool, you gotta do it. Kids, adults, adults who are kids—everybody loves fixing this breakfast.

So there’s some upfront work for you. All in all, this is a way to provide simultaneous omelets for a crowd. I’ve served as many as 12 at once. Now tell me your little omelet pan or regular skillet can do that!

So, regular style omelet making has you slicing and dicing (and now that I have my new paring knife, this is a cinch!) green onions, red and green bell peppers, bacon, sausage, mushrooms. Shred some cheeses.

Get out the sour cream, and salsa and you’re good to go. All these things can be done before the slug-a-beds even wake up.

I like to have my Cran-Lemon Cream Scones as a side (see recipe on this blog). Put out a couple of juices. Have the java, tea, and cocoa ready for your Keurig (see earlier post).

Put all the add-ins into little dishes. If you’re into fancy-schmancy, that is. I make people scoop it out of the containers or plastic bags I stored them in after slicing and dicing. Honestly, isn’t the point of this to save you work! Why wash what you don’t have to. And any extras have to go back into the bags, so cut out the middle man, is my advice, and dip from the bags/bottles.

Jostle those folks out of bed.

Put on a huge pot of water to boil. Next get out FREEZER zipper bags and a Sharpie permanent pen. While they are sipping their first cuppa, tell them to write their names on the bags. Did you notice I italicized, bolded, and capitalized “freezer”? Regular plastic bags—unh unh. No. No.

Each person cracks two eggs and adds them to the bag. Direct them to moosh the eggs to a lemony look. (That is a poetic way of saying, “Lose the yellow eyeballs.”)

Each person adds in what appeals to them. Squeeze out all the air you can, then seal the bag. You’ll be surprised how much adults enjoy playing with their food. Even DH, who isn't sure which appliance is the stove, likes doing this meal. With help, everyone can participate.

When all the bags are ready, slide them into the boiling water. Stand all bags upright. Bring the water to a boil again. If you are only cooking a few, boil for 13 minutes. If cooking a crowded pot full, move the bags around a couple to times to rotate position and cook for 15 minutes.

At the end of the cooking time, remove bags from the boiling water, letting each person fetch shis own. Show them how to open the bag and roll the omelet onto the plate. They can put on a dollop of sour cream or salsa. Breakfast is served.

No oil is added, so this is a more healthful omelet than some others you’ve made.

Trust me. Your family and friends (even some of your enemies) will love this omelet.

And clean-up is a cinch! Who couldn’t love that even more?

Wild Cinnamon and Cup Cakes

Once upon a time, my good friend Gina (who co-stars in my culinary mystery “Dinner is Served” series) and I started a food mixes company. Hey, why not? How hard can it be to start up a company, develop recipes, sell product, and provide full-time income for two women?

Right! I see you got it immediately. While we were long on energy and ideas, we were not so much into marketing strategies. Those were two words we didn’t seem to know the English translation for. Marketing? Strategies?

Add to that our somewhat different styles. If you read my bio, you see that I think “measurement” is a four-letter word. Gina was a math teacher. So, great as my ideas for recipes might be, putting that to paper so we could replicate the recipe hundreds of times was ummm, challenging for me. But I did get the hang of it. I’m not stupid after all, just lazy and impulsive.

A tip indicating our longevity prospects should have been sales. Our biggest bucks came from selling at friend’s craft and yard sales. Right! You get the picture. We had vague plans for selling on the Internet, but we didn’t have a clue how one went about such a thing. We did talk to someone about putting up a website for us, but he was going to charge us $$$.

What was the name of this great incipient company, you ask? What did you sell?

Picking the name was a cinch. We were at a meeting for teachers, waiting in the entryway for the doors to open, when someone complimented me on my most recent hair color. I was known for ranging from “Hisbiscus” (a shade of purple) to “Lucious Mango (an orange-y red). I used to say (actually, I still do) “So many reds, so little time.” But back to the story. I had just become “Wild Cinnamon” and one of our friends said, “That would be a great name for you company.”

Indeed! I loved it! The name implied we were spicy, untamed, yet traditional. Perfect.

So we registered “Wild Cinnamon” with the AZ business folks downtown and we were official. We created easy-to-prepare mixes for soups, dips, salad dressings, cookies, and other things.

One of our best sellers (now this is all relative, you understand, when I use the term “best seller”) was our ingeniously named “Cup Cakes”. These were mixes one added water and oil to and then put into the microwave to bake in a 12-ounce glass mug. Add water to the frosting packet, and dessert was ready in a couple of minutes. One could purchase the mugs from us as well. We had a range of flavors from “Tropical Paradise” to “Spice” to the most popular of all, “Chocolate”.

And it was pretty good, but this recipe is better! I follow @EthanAdelande on Twitter, and he has created a great 5-Minute Chocolate Cake for the microwave. You can find it and more on his “Tastes Better with Friends” blog on at http://bit.ly/eLOqMj Visit his blog and see for yourself what other yummy things he has concocted.

From Ethan Adelande’s

Revised and Better than Ever 5 Minute Chocolate Cake

4 tablespoons of flour

4 tablespoons of sugar

2 tablespoons of cocoa

1 egg

3 tablespoons of milk

3 tablespoons of oil

1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

A handful of chocolate chips

1 – Mix all the dry ingredients in a bowl.

2 – Add the egg and mix well.

3 – Pour in the milk, oil & vanilla and mix well.

4 – Place the mixture in a tall glass or mug and into the microwave and cook for 3 minutes at “high”.

The cake may rise over the top, but it will settle, don’t be alarmed! Let it cool and eat out of the mug or tip it out onto a plate.

Sharon’s Note: I like to make a little cocoa/sour cream/confectioner’s sugar glaze for the top or put some more chocolate chips on top and let them ooze over the sides of the hot cake. Yummers!

The Creative Lunch Box

In the interest of full disclosure, you need to know that the author of this book is the mother of London, my oldest son’s wife. There has been no remuneration or special favors (flavors???) provided in order to review this book. Not that I’d turn them down, but none were offered.

Little Bro loved our mother’s homemade bread—because he sold the sandwiches she made at school to kids whose mother’s did not bake 7 or more loaves of bread weekly. He was quite the entrepreneur. He bought the school lunch with his proceeds and had money left over. Wish I had thought of that.

It started innocently enough. We didn’t have enough money in our family to buy school lunches, so Ma packed ‘em every day. After a couple of weeks, Little Bro asked for an extra sandwich each day, which Ma happily prepared. Growing boy and all.

After another couple of weeks he requested a third sandwich. Wow! Hungry guy! It was when he requested the fourth sandwich that she broke him. Tied to a kitchen chair with rope from the barn, he finally confessed what he had been doing. She offered to make 12 sandwiches daily if he’d split the take with her, but that didn’t work out very well. So, back to one sandwich and she’d better not hear he didn’t eat it. She smelled his breath every day after school for a week just to make sure.

The school lunch program in America has come under justified attack in recent years. Too much fat and processed food. Jamie Oliver brought the issue to the forefront with his reality TV show, and Michelle Obama has pushed for better school meals. In light of all the negativity and economic realities, more parents are preparing lunches for kids to take to school.

If you have (had) kids for whom you pack(ed) a lunch, you’ll immediately recognize the value of Ellen Klavan’s little treasure, The Creative Lunchbox: Easy, Nutritious, and Inviting Meals for Your Child (Crown Publishers). Few of us make delicious homemade bread to entice our children’s taste buds, but there is much more one can do.

When Brooklyn, my oldest was little, I’d cut his sandwich into puzzle pieces for him to assemble. I’d put little notes in his lunch box to read—a joke maybe, or riddle, sometimes “I’m thinking of you right now.”

I digress. Ellen includes ideas of this sort along with innovative lunches to entice even picky eaters. Her eleven chapters are: Lunchbox Realities, Commonsense Nutrition, Pack It All In, Add Some Fun, Sandwiches, Salads, Hot Meals, Drinks, Quick Breads and Muffins, Something Extra, and Desserts.

Not only is this a delightful little cookbook, but it is filled with information about nutrition and practicalities like packing hot foods. And one important lesson she comes at from many angles is your child is more likely to eat the lunch you prepare if you involve your child in the lunch box choices.

Ellen’s sense of fun (Halloween Cucumber Monster) and style (Sandwich Roll-Ups with festive toothpicks) shine throughout the book. Her child-tested tips fill the pages offering a veritable cornucopia of creative lunch ideas. This book will go a long way toward ensuring your child eats more healthfully and joyfully at school. My brother would have made a mint if Ma had this book!