Roasted Vegetables: A Few Tips

My mother hates to cook. This is not a secret. She doesn’t do it anymore, and she’s happy about it. My grandmother, however, was a great cook. My theory is sometimes the love of cooking skips a generation. Or, you know, desperate people do desperate things.

Despite her preference to have anyone but her do the cooking, my mother learned a few culinary tricks from her mother. Such as the ability to serve awful, overdone vegetables. Apparently, anything green (or orange or purple) was sentenced to death by boiling. For a very long time.
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Hamburgers Beyond The Bun

I have a friend who asks the same question whenever we go out to dinner: Is there anything I can eat? This friend has zero dietary restrictions. He can eat anything. Unfortunately, he refuses to try anything beyond a (very) limited list of foods.

(Yes, it amuses me that he is always focused on what he can eat, without considering the challenges faced by his GF friends…I’m not the only person he knows who must eat gluten-free.)

He’s a hamburger freak. So am I. The difference is he limits himself to a plain burger with just salt and pepper as seasoning. Nothing else. Not that there’s anything wrong with salt and pepper on a burger. But, really, nature gives us so much more to enjoy with our burgers!
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Gluten-Free Pantry: Mise en Place

Mise en place is basically French for “set in place” or “put in place” or just about any way you want to say “make sure you have everything lined up and ready to go” before you start major cooking projects. Mise en place is the trick to making sure your cooking life goes as planned.

What this means is quite simple: before you start cooking, make sure you have everything ready to go. Utensils, check. Various ingredients measured and ready to use, check. Oven preheated, check. Pre-cooked or par-cooked items pre-cooked or par-cooked, check.
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Your Gluten-Free Pantry: Basic Chicken Stock

A few years ago, I realized I was wasting a lot of money buying chicken stock. I go through so much of it when cooking, and spending a couple of dollars per container (on the high, I’m going to go organic and all that, end) was insane, especially since making good stock is so easy. I throw everything into the stock pot and let it simmer while I’m doing my other Sunday chores.

It’s good, it’s rich, and not too salty. Plus, I always have stock on hand — no more coming home, starting a meal, and discovering I forgot to buy stock.

Depending on what I’m doing, I make fresh stock every three to four weeks.
What makes this easier for me is assiduous collecting of bones and vegetable scraps throughout the month. I’m a big consumer of rotisserie chicken (nothing makes for faster on-the-go meals), so I freeze the bones after I pull off all the meat. I also toss leftover onions, carrots, and celery into my freezer bag for added flavor.

Roasted chicken bones tend to produce a richer flavor, so I prefer this route over cooking a whole hen…mostly because the resulting meat is so bland, it’s hard to imagine using it in any recipe. Plus stock from a boiled chicken doesn’t have the right golden color. It is pale and insipid, especially when compared to a stock made from roasted bones.

It probably should go without saying, but this process also works incredibly well for making turkey stock.

Mama Said There’d Be Days Like This

As I often mention to my husband, when it comes to dining out, I can generally find something gluten-free on the menu. It might not be satisfying, or even exciting (why, oh, why do restaurants insist on serving indifferent salads? Sure, it excites me all the more when I find a really great salad, but, wow, what passes for “salad” in this country makes me sad.). But I can generally eat something at most places.

Being gluten-free is a challenge, but it’s one I’ve embraced.

This week, however, I learned about eating in (social) captivity. I was stuck at an all day offsite*. I knew lunch would be served. I had high hopes.

Those hopes were dashed. Rudely. Lunch was sandwiches, accompanied by wan tomatoes and scary-looking pickles (and I love pickles!). Once upon a time, this lunch would have made me pretty happy.
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Bisquick, or, Then Things Got Weird

As a child, I indulged in Bisquick-based foods quite frequently. I like to think I was known for my fantastic drop biscuits. And, of course, my pancakes were legends in my own mind. I am sure I used my mother’s electric skillet far more than she ever did.

Over time, Bisquick and I grew apart. It wasn’t the Bisquick, it wasn’t me, it was just one of those things. We went in different directions. I started making stuff from scratch. I found solace in cooking. When my youngest sister and I start talking food on Facebook, my mother chimes in with “Where did I go wrong?”.

This didn’t change when I went gluten-free (except, you know, no more Sundays devoted to making sourdough bread, which is shaping up to be my Fall GF cooking project). I shunned prepared mixes and foods, this time with good reason. All those hidden gluten-y things. I was gluten-free, and I was going to do it my way.
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Finding My Point of View

When I started my website Booksquare, I came into the project with a specific point-of-view. This perspective evolved over time, as well it should have. When you write about the rapidly evolving world of digital publishing, you cannot stay stuck in the past.

As someone who writes fiction, I also know a lot about point-of-view. The reader learns so much about the story from the POV character. And when the author chooses the wrong point-of-view, it detracts from the story. This means making the right choices between first and third person (or, heaven help you, second person!) and between point-of-view characters.
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