Things In The Freezer That Must Be Gotten Rid Of

I need some more freezer space. It is time to clear out some stuff.


I have some almond flour in the freezer, and some candied ginger in the pantry. That means it's time for more biscotti!


So delicious. But not everything in the freezer leads to something lovely:

Chili. It tastes good, but not so pretty in its partly-frozen state. But two containers of chili and half of the cornbread muffins are gone, as well as three bags of leftover pancakes, which frees up space for cookie dough and babka.

Babka is the basis for cinnamon rolls, another thing I wouldn't mind eating every day but that I only make for Christmas morning. Babka is a silky, buttery sweet bread dough. I use the recipe from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. I imagine I'll make the dough and assemble the cinnamon rolls today, freeze them overnight, then thaw them in the fridge overnight Christmas eve so they can be baked Christmas morning without over-rising. Then we won't eat them all, so we will need freezer space for the leftovers, unless the Old Folks in the South grub for them.

Bunny is bored with fake food.

Bunny has started cooking again, sort of. She is tired of take-out and food from a box. This week with the holiday and all and the siren call of obscure pantry items such as pistachios, Bunny has tested out the oven and learned that it still works.

We had the usual Thanksgiving dinner. A good turkey, on the small side. Mashed spuds run through the potato ricer so the texture was extra refined. The ricer is a bitch to clean and mostly we don't bother with it, but it ensures a perfect mash with no lumps of not-quite-cooked enough potato. Stuffing--plain bread and herb stuffing with mushrooms and celery and extra sage. St. Julia's cranberry relish. Steamed haricots verts. Awesome pumpkin pie filling baked in a terrible pre-made crust from the freezer. I've resorted to scooping out the filling and leaving the crust behind.

And, for the first time ever, gravy. Gravy, for Bunny, is a why-bother proposition, but The Man likes it, so I bothered. And I finally know what all the fuss is about. I decided to follow St. Julia's guidelines, and went for it. First, I boiled all the grotesque turkey pieces parts (minus liver) in water to make a broth. Then, for the last hour or so of the turkey roasting period, I put some onion, carrots, an celery in the roasting pan with the turkey. When the turkey was done, I took the rack out of the pan and set the bird aside to rest. Then I put the roasting pan on the stove and started cooking down what was left. I've always been afraid to do this. I suppose I always figured I couldn't get even heat and I would probably ruin my pans or crack the glass on my stovetop. But this time, I threw caution to the wind. When the juices and fat and veg and bits an scraps of stuffing started bubbling, I poured in a couple of glugs of a decent white wine and started deglazing. And when that started going well, I poured in the strained turkey broth and cooked it until it looked about right. Don't ask me how I knew. Intuition, I guess. Then I poured the whole thing through a stainer into a bowl, and I pressed the remains in the strainer to extract out pretty much all the liquid. Then I poured the liquid into one of those fat-separating measuring cups (mine is cheap plastic) and let it sit for a minute or two until the fat rose to the top. Then I skimmed off two tablespoons of fat and put it in a saucepan with two tablespoons of flour, and whisked the hell out of it to make a roux. I browned the roux for about five minutes, then whisked in the liquid (but not the fat) from the fat-separating measuring cup in dribbles until it was all it. Then I cooked it until it thickened about the right amount.

It was awesome. The Man was so happy. Naturally, I pumped him for compliments the entire time. Isn't this the best gravy you've ever had? Do you like it? Really? What do you like about it? Parents: stop reading here! Then we realized the psychology behind all those insecure pestering questions and had a good giggle. Parents: it's now safe to read again! So gravy, yum.

And there have been plenty of left-overs. I've portioned out the cranberries and put them in the freezer. I've made my turkey stock from the carcass and have soup on the agenda for today.

And I got sick of looking at the left-over pistachios in the pantry, so I made pistachio-orange biscotti yesterday.

My goal is to make them last at least until the end of the week.

Don't worry. I'm still lazy. Yesterday's lunch was instant felafel patties from a box.

UPDATE: I'm still cooking. I made enchiladas for dinner. I'm sure there's nothing authentic about them, but we like 'em.

Sometimes she really cooks for real.

Because The Man is a good boy (for a guy), I occasionally do him a "big favor" and cook for real. (Actually, Bunny wants some real food and feels like cooking but she tells herself that she's doing it for The Man.) The Man requested a special anniverserary dinner, and here is what he got:

From the market, truffle pate on baguette. Then, Filet Mignon. We split one. I split one so we each get a thinnish medallion, and just sear them, so they're still fairly rare in the middle. And what's a Filet (sez The Man) without Bearnaise sauce? I use St. Julia's recipe from The Way to Cook. Use that whisk, baby! Work it hard! Also, I know how to fix a separated bearnaise/hollandaise: just whisk in a little acid, baby! Magic! And we had some yummy spud mash, and some steamed green beans. And for dessert: cherry cobbler. Sez The Man: Have you made this before? It's amazing! Of course I've made it before, you dope. I made it tonight specifically because it's a special meal for you and I know you particularly love cherry cobbler. Duh. I swear. Sometimes I wonder if I should pin a note to his shirt in case he gets lost.

So the cobbler. Unlike when I was a little Bunny and more people cooked, and more people had a passing acquaintance with the tart cherry, it has become more difficult to find plain canned tart cherries that haven't already been turned into pie filling or preserves of some kind, even at the Glutton Place Gourmet. And let's not even joke about finding fresh, especially in November. So, as usual, I had to doctor up some tart cherry preserves to make a respectable filling. Then, I ignore the recipe, and just make a nice buttermilk biscuit dough, only with a little sugar, and with a little extra buttermilk so it's looser. And I top the whole thing with a dusting of turbinado for a little crunch.

What goes in buttermilk biscuits, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. Buttermilk biscuits contain: buttermilk, butter, and self-rising biscuit flour. That is all. If you think biscuits come from a can or a box (heart-smart, my ass), you are living a sad, deprived little life. Please, find yourself someone who can make you a real biscuit so you know what one tastes like before you die.

Sometimes she cooks

Curried chicken. Sauce from a jar. I "cooked" it on the stove and added some potato, cauliflower, and peas, so it technically wasn't zapping. Plus, goodbye to another obscure pantry item. We opened a new jar of chutney and I saw back there that we still have an unopened jar of "sweet mango relish" that I bought at the Indian Spices and Appliances store. Yes, that's its name. Only they tore down Indian Spices and Appliances a few years ago to build a condo tower. How old is this stuff anyway? Is it safe to eat? Am I really so cheap that I can't throw it away? Yes I am. See Economy Plan, 1.8 billion dollar landscaping. Maybe I can use it to "unintentionally" poison my enemies.

Crap. I've just lost plausible deniability.

Sometimes she cooks

More whole wheat bread. This time I upped the whole grain content by substituting whole wheat white for some of the white four. It isn’t nearly as pretty as the last batch, so I’m going back to white flour next time.

Corn bread. I adapted a corn muffin recipe from Jane Brody’s Good Food Book by baking the batter in a square pan rather than as muffins. Temperature was little too high because the crust was a little too crunchy, plus, still wet in the middle after 30 minutes. Next time, knock oven temperature down by 25 degrees, and increase baking time to 40 minutes.

By the way, this may be supremely boring to you, but it is helpful to me to write down all my test-kitchen adventures so I can remember what I did last time and see what works ad what didn’t.

Vegetarian chili: I adapted a recipe from one of Martin Katahn’s books. His recipe is fat free, but I don’t see how a tablespoon of olive oil in a giant vat of chili is going to hurt anyone. This is basically a tomato, bean, and spice stew. Sometimes I put TVP in, but there wasn’t any in the pantry. I used to buy TVP and a great many other things from the bulk bins at the Fresh Fields, but they’ve pretty much done away with them in this area in favor clamshell plastic packages of pre-measured amounts. In our two-person household, we don’t have much use for a pound of, say, kamut, although we might have occasionally bought a half-cup or so from the bulk foods bins. Bulk spices are also gone, so I’m stuck buying large bottles of stuff that goes stale instead of small amounts I can use fresh. Most of the more exotic ingredients are gone. I used to be able to choose from 20 or so varieties of dried beans, most of them organic. Now we’re down to about ten. The chain is using more and more if its square footage on prepared foods, at the expense of those who actually cook, not that I don’t zap stuff from time to time. It’s a real loss, as far as I’m concerned.

Sometimes she cooks

Curried tuna. Sounds gross, but it's not. Saute an onion in some butter, canola oil, or ghee (if you are trying to use up obscure pantry items), then stir in a can of drained tuna, about 3 cups of cooked rice, a teaspoon of curry powder, some salt, enough water (maybe 1/4 cup) to keep it from glomming together all disgustingly, and enough lightly zapped green peas to make it not so monochromatic.

Net reduction in obscure pantry items: 1
Net reduction in Things in the Freezer that Must Be Gotten Rid of: 2 containers of leftover brown rice

Sometimes she cooks.

Spanish rice from a box. Add some ground beef and a can of chopped tomatoes and it becomes a meal instead of a pointless side dish.

Quiche: Pre-made whole wheat pie crust from the freezer. Cover the bottom with a layer of cheese (emmenthaler today), then a layer of sautéed onions and mushrooms, then pour over an eggs-and-milk mixture. Bake until it is no longer soupy. If it comes out soggy because you didn't defrost the pie crust or cook out the moisture from the mushrooms or used too much milk per egg, serve with lots of white wine so no one notices.

Sometimes she just zaps stuff.

I've had a delicious-looking frozen Indian meal in the freezer for quite some time. It looks yummy, but on close inspection, it turned out to be paneer and sauce, nearly no carbs, and not even close to substantial enough for a meal. So I doctored it up. Zap the Paneer Tikka Masala, zap about a cup of frozen peas, steam a head of cauliflower, mix up all the components, and serve with brown rice, a spoonful of chutney, and a glob of plain yogurt.

Good news: Yum. Bad news: The Boys now know conclusively that they like Indian food. I spilled a little on the floor and they got a taste before I could clean it all up. I expect to be nagged a lot for Indian food from now on, but I dare not give them any for fear of the spiciness inducing dysentery-like symptoms.

Net reduction in freezer items: 1

Sometimes she cooks.

Whole wheat bread. Recipe from The New Best Recipe authored by the America's Test Kitchen people. I have made a dozen different types of WW bread. I have used the one from the bag of King Arthur traditional whole wheat flour, and I have used ones from a bunch of different cookbooks. This one uses a blend of WW flour, white flour, rye flour, and wheat germ, with honey as the sweetener. The quarter-cup of rye flour seems to make a big difference for no reason that I can fathom. I'd rather be using 100% whole grain and no white flour. I think next time I'll try a combination of whole wheat and "White Whole Wheat" and see if the texture holds.

Applesauce muffins. I wanted doughnuts or maybe a nice cheese danish for breakfast, but I "settled" for these instead. Plus I got to use up the applesauce that has been in the cupboard since whenever, AND the whole wheat pastry flour.

Bran muffins. These are the staple weekday breakfast Chez Nous. The recipe is from Jane Brody's Good Food Book. We weren't running out of these yet, but the buttermilk was about to turn and I wanted to use it up because of the Economy Plan.

Yes. The freezer is now crammed full.

Seafood pasta. I made this with canned clams, canned clam juice (why did I ever buy that in the first place?), scallions, white wine, and shrimp, and served it with whole wheat spaghetti.

Net reduction in obscure pantry items: 3

I know the formatting is hinky here, but I don't care enough to figure it out.

Sometimes she just zaps stuff.

Felafel.

Frozen from a box. Pan fried up in a little olive oil. Put it on a plate with pita bread, yogurt/tahini sauce, and a little cucumber salad.

End up with extra pita on the plate. Use pita to scoop up some hummus from a tub.

Net reductions from freezer: 1/4 box of felafel patties, 2 mini-loaves of whole wheat pita bread.

Sometimes she cooks

Sweet and sour pork.


This is a by-product of the Economy Plan. I had about a cup of pineapple chunks in the freezer, and the Economy Plan means we have to use up things in the freezer, no matter how revolting. So, I bought some boneless butterflied pork chops, weighed out seven ounces, put the rest in the freezer (uh oh. Now I have more Things In The Freezer That Must Be Gotten Rid Of), marinated the chunks in some tamari and egg yolk, stir-fried with some green bell peppers and the pineapple from the freezer, and glopped up with a sauce of ketchup, vinegar, sugar, cornstarch, salt, water, and sesame oil. Serve over brown rice from the freezer.


Deletions from the freezer: 2
Additions to the freezer: 1
Net reduction in freezer contents: 1