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Five Real Food Failures

Jess — Mon, 10 May 2010 19:43:55 +0000

Do you ever get discouraged reading food blogs? Real food, gorgeous pictures, amazing meals… I know I can’t be the only one. They just have it so together. I am never that together.

In case you’ve been spending too much time perusing the blogs of more competent individuals, I am here to make you feel better about what actually goes on in your kitchen. I know I’ve shared some successful moments in the past, but rest assured that for as many good meals as I’ve produced, my food experiments have produced just as many strange, ugly and just plain inedible results.

#5 – Kombucha Explosion

Once upon a time, I made kombucha. And it went really well. It brewed, it had flavrz. And it carbonated really nicely. Too nicely, in fact. Which was apparent when I opened a bottle and it shot kombucha-infused raspberry mush all over my kitchen. My sliding glass doors, my cabinets, my windows, my vaulted ceilings.

Definitely one of those moments I was glad the hubs wasn’t home to see it. If you’ve ever seen the Big Bang Theory, his face would have done that twitchy thing that Sheldon’s does when his brain is about to explode.

Click here to view the embedded video.

*twitch twitch* But he also probably would have cleaned it up for me…

#4 – Tortillas x Two

I also tried to make tortillas with cornmeal. Why? Because I didn’t know any better. Those were… gross. Just really gross. Sort of weird, fried, dried corn pancake things.

So I went and got corn flour. If you’re in the know, you’re already laughing at me. If you’re not in the know, FYI – you can’t make tortillas with corn flour. Masa, my friends, you need masa.

An hour later (10 PM), piles of half-cooked, crumpled, broken, weird, dry, ruined tortillas in a pile on my counter, I gave up and ate a salad for dinner.

#3 – Impatient Ghee

Then there was the 10 PM ghee. (You may notice a theme here with the starting of food projects in the middle of the night. I should probably stop doing this.)

I thought ghee would be fast. You know, simmer butter, skim milk fats off the top, the end. Easy, right?

I waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Nothing…

Finally, about 45 minutes later, I got impatient and cranked up the heat. And it was awesome! There was boiling. There was separating. I win at ghee! And then… it turned brown, black… dead. Burned the whole damn batch. Cranky, cranky, cranky Jess.

I must confess that I haven’t tried to make ghee again. Every time I think about it, I get a little twitchy. Like Sheldon.

#2 – Lacto-Fermented Marmalade

Lacto-fermented marmalade. If you take a look at the comments, you will see how Annette saved me from near-death or at least extreme discomfort by informing me that my whey was NOT ALIVE and therefore would not be lacto-fermenting anything. I proceeded to leave the marmalade on my counter for over a week for fear of being attacked by scary mold monsters when I attempted to discard it. In the end there were no scary mold monsters. Just lots of very strong-smelling carbonated orange weirdness.

#1 – The Worm

I really don’t have a good explanation for this one. A picture will have to suffice. Sourdough fail + leftover jam = The Worm. Yes, I did eat some of it. No, it was not good.

How about you? Real food failures? Real food successes? Any worms in your culinary closet?

Real Food Challenge Recap – Week 1

Jess — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 17:43:31 +0000

The first week of the Nourished Kitchen 28 Day Real Food Challenge is complete and I survived! (Mostly due to rampant cheating.) Good times.

Day 1- Throw Out Processed Food

Looked in the cupboards, threw a tantrum, decided I was going to be a massive cheater and not throw anything away. Decided to grow up and at least box it up and put it away. Didn’t actually end up touching any food, but thought about it and pretended I was doing it.

Day 2 – Go Buy Real Food

Continued to eat processed food while I wait for repair person to show up. Vowed to take a trip to the co-op as soon as he/she leaves. Justified my actions with some vague reassurance about not wasting food.

Day 3 – Improve Your Grains

Actually went and bought real food today. Discovered that even more of the grocery store is now irrelevant to me. Real food – very little. Organic real food – even less. Organic, local, in season food – none. Bagged all my processed food, save for a small shelf of food refugees (my popcorn…). Soaked oatmeal!

Day 4 – Start Your Sourdough Culture

Trip to the co-op for more real food – local eggs, raw milk, flour, kefir culture, parsnip, rutabaga. Mocked on Twitter for asking what to do with the parsnip and rutabaga (#StuffWhitePeopleAsk). Helpful answer from Kelly @ Centsible Life and Virgina @ Living the Local Life (we love them). Ate soaked oatmeal – delicious! Oh… and restarted sourdough culture. Hoping for better luck this time.

Day 5 – Improve Your Grains

Guess what? No organic grains at Safeway. Surprise, surprise. Another trip to the co-op for rye, lentils and mung beans (!). Sourdough is bubbling and fluffing! Put grains to soak – trying rye first. Unbelievably busy day. Broke down and got take-out pho. Styrofoam galore. [Insert self loathing here.]

Day 6 – Milling Your Own Sprouted Grain Flour

Managed to avoid another trip to the co-op by virtue of the fact that my grains weren’t sprouting yet. Sourdough increasingly sour. Surprised it’s doing anything with as cold as my house is. Busy day out of the house, but the morning’s soaked oatmeal came through. Soaked oatmeal is awesome! Hubs sent me a link for rain barrels and asked me what I was going to do once things sprouted. *crickets*

Day 7 – Relax and Evaluate

Woke up to sprouted rye! Found a few recipes and decided to try rye flatbread after garden planning and seed saving class. Completely inedible and permanently adhered to my pan. Put more grains to soak. Hoping for better luck (or a better recipe) this time.

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The Day My Sourdough Died

Jess — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 14:45:41 +0000

My sourdough culture is dead. Again.

I don’t know why I can’t seem to get this thing to live. I am alive. My pets are alive. Even my incredibly finicky bonsai tree is alive (and blooming!). But this little colony of yeast and lactobacillus just isn’t happy with me.

Not my sourdough culture.

I try to do the right thing. I feed it organic flour and water without too much chlorine in it. I weigh everything carefully to ensure the proportions are correct. But my sourdough just bubbles halfheartedly at me from its jar. I’ve tried several times to make it into bread, only to have it sit, dismal and sour like my teenage cousin that time her parents dragged her to Great Aunt Ida’s birthday party.

As I dumped my deceased culture into my compost bin, I asked myself why it mattered anyways. Why is so important to me to get this flour and water to rise into a fluffy loaf of goodness, when I could just go buy bread at the store like everyone else?

I think it’s because I should be able to make bread. I mean, it’s just flour, water and salt! How can I suck so badly at making something as fundamental as a loaf of bread?

It is one thing to not be able to make a car or a computer. I don’t mind lacking the ingrained knowledge to repair the space shuttle. But I don’t feel like I should need corporate assistance to make what is, for me, a staple food. Something that feels wrong about that, like kids who don’t realize the part of the carrot that we eat is a root that grows under the ground. Shouldn’t we know these things?

Not my bread either.

Kids today are growing up with a new set of “fundamental survival skills.” They manage a diverse range of online identities. They seem to effortlessly walk the line between their online and physical lives (or perhaps for them that line has faded away entirely). And that is a good thing, because they will need to be masters of that world.

But what if they lost access to Easy Mac, ramen and delivery pizza? Would they be able to turn the contents of their pantry or their garden into a decent meal? Would they know how to tell a carrot from a weed? Would you?

This kind of knowledge is a certain type of resilience that many of us have lost over the past several generations. I don’t think it’s something we can afford to lose for much longer.

So I’ve been working on it for myself. I’m getting much better at making actual meals from the food in my pantry. My freezer is filled with chicken stock instead of Hot Pockets. But I still can’t tell food sproutlings from baby weeds. And my sourdough is dead.

I am determined to keep learning and trying. Because you can’t eat Farmville vegetables, no matter how hard you try. But you can eat a nice loaf of sourdough bread.

Images: http://www.flickr.com/photos/dklein/ / http://www.flickr.com/photos/karloskarmattsson/ / CC BY 2.0