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Turkey and Waffles

Overcome by a sudden tug of domesticity, I decided stay in tonight to clean my room, the bathroom, AND cook! (And by tug of domesticity I mean I didn't have any money left for the bar after diapers and new socks, since those damn toddlers socks are teeny and inevitably end up lost in the abyss known as my laundry room. Sometimes I surprise myself at how prioritized I am.) And so instead of drowning my sorrows, I cooked, then ate, my feelings. And what better combination than teriyaki turkey burgers and whole wheat blueberry waffles? Well, vodka and tonic, for one, but like I said, we're broke round these parts.

So as I've said before, despite common error, I am not Hawaiian. However, my father was born and raised there, and basically the whole paternal side of family still lives there. For a short while when my brothers and sister and I were young, my dad's parents lived with us and fed a lot of saimin and Spam. When my mom quit working to stay at home, they moved back and she took over the cooking. So most of what I remember eating growing up was a lot of chicken breast and spaghetti and meatballs. (I'm not knocking my mom's cooking at all, she's great, but before I really got into cooking I don't remember much of what she made.) But when my parents separated when I was 12, my dad made us A Lot of teriyaki burgers. (That and chili with potatoes in it. Yeah I still don't know.) Now I'm not saying he didn't try, but ground beef mixed with sticky sweet teriyaki sauce and baked until gray just isn't that appetizing. So this is how I do mine.

Instead of ground beef, I prefer to use 7% fat ground turkey. This is pretty much due to the fact that I can buy a three pound package of it for six bucks and change, rather than five-something for a pound of comprably lean beef. The 99% fat free ground turkey breat is gross to me--dry and flavorless. So I combine half of that package of turkey, probably about half a cup of bottled teriyaki sauce (you know, cause I'm authentic), and three green onions, chopped, obviously. Some chili flake wouldn't be out of place here if you like that sort of thing, but as these were for both me and the kid, I skipped it this time. A minced clove of garlic wouldn't be a bad idea either, but that really depends on the sauce that you use. The one I use is plenty garlic-y for me, so I skip that as well.

Appetizing, no?

Be sure to use just the fingertips when combining everything. Too much man-handling will toughen things up. To form the patties, I do the whole Rachael Ray thing and score the meat into six even-ish sections. Its also a good idea to rinse your hands before patting out a section to keep the meat from sticking to you. I cook mine in a cast iron pan over medium 3-4 minutes on each side rather than baking in the oven. Call me crazy, but I prefer my food golden, brown, and delicious as opposed to gray. Be sure to watch your burgers though--there is most likely a lot of sugar in the teriyaki sauce, which can blacken quickly if the heat is too high. (In which case, just call it Ca-sian cooking. Hahahaha I'm so funny it hurts.)


So after the burgers were done and I had had just ONE (I swear), I was eating some blueberries and trying to figure out a way to use them up and went "WAFFLES!" For reals, guys, I totally was standing there with the fridge door open stuffing my face and had a "Eureka!" moment, except I said "Waffles!" Yeahhhh, so anyway, I make waffles a lot and freeze them, since they are an easy weekday breakfast for the kiddo and about a kajillion times tastier than the store bough frozen kind.

Blueberry Waffles
Adapted from Mr. Breakfast

1 1/3 cup flour*
1 cup milk
2 large eggs, separated
3-4 Tablespoons butter, melted (Three works fine, four tastes better. Up to you.)
3 Tablespoons unsweeted applesauce
1/2 teaspoon good vanilla extract
zest of one orange
2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspons salt
6 ounces blueberries, fresh or frozen (If you bought your blueberries in a half pint, just use that. Or buy two half pints and eat the leftovers while your waffles are cooking.)

*I have used a variety of flours in this particular recipe. My favorite so far has been oat flour, but I was out, and used whole wheat. Using all whole grain flour can result in a somewhat gritty texture. This doesn't bother either my kid or me, but if it does bug you, cut it 50/50 with all purpose flour. I just bought some whole wheat pastry flour which I suspect will be lovely next time around.

Stir together milk, eggs, butter, applesauce, zest, and vanilla. Ideally everything should be at room temperature, but no one is going to have a seizure if they're not. Add flour and salt until just combined.

In a seperate bowl, whisk your two egg whites until soft peaks form. Again, ideally these are at room temp, but you should still be okay if they aren't. Make sure you bowl is big enough for things to move around. If it's not, you won't be able to whip them around enough to pick up air without getting egg-y snot all over your counters. I used to be meringue imcompetent until made these waffles. Seriously, I'm totally telling the truth, the first time I ever got my whites to hold peaks was the first time I followed this recipe. So basically what I'm saying is YOU CAN DO IT!

Using your spatula, fold a third of the whites into the first bowl of stuff. You don't need to be particularly careful at this point--we're just lightening things up a bit. Add half the remaining whites, folding a bit more carefully from this point on. Add the last of the whites, and sprinkle over the baking powder. Fold until almost combined, then add the blueberries and fold until fully combined. Bake in your waffle iron of choice.

I get four waffles with this recipe, but it really depends on what waffle iron you're using.

So that was my rockin Friday night. I didn't go out but hey, I at least got a slight buzz off of cleaning products. (Totally kidding. That's gross don't huff! And open the door and window when you're using three different heavy duty cleaners in your not-so-big bathroom!)

Success!

After Friday's nights failure, I figured I should prove I'm not completely incapable of making kid-friendly food. So Parker happens to share my love for pretty much whatever pasta I throw at him. (Or rather, that he throws at me.) I figure pasta with red sauce is pretty fool proof as far as kids go. So tonight's dinner was Nigella Lawson's Rigatoni (Penne) al Pomodoro e Prezzemolo. Delicious and done in the time it takes to boil the pasta.

First and foremost I put the water on to boil. Into a pan went six tablespoons of olive oil and a few bruised garlic cloves over medium low heat; the recipe specifies that you thinly slice them. I, however, thought that when I normally make this I just lightly crush a few cloves, so that's what I did. After a few minutes in the warm oil the garlic had begun to take slight color, and my water was at a boil. I salted the water and added the remnants of two boxes (what I thought was about half a pound) of penne I had kicking around the pantry. To the garlic-y oil I added a 15 oz. can of tomatoes. (Sidenote: Nigella specifies a 14 oz. can of tomatoes for a pound of pasta. I find this to be too dry for my taste. Generally speaking I use a 28 oz. can if I am making a full pound of pasta, regardless of the recipe.) I thought they were diced tomatoes, but I apparently can't read. I was slightly surprised to dump the can out and see this.


So I said to myself "Dur dur Meleyna nice one," and used the back of a fork to crush them up. Crisis averted. I added a quarter can of water to the sauce, salt and pepper, and turned up the heat to medium high. Though not exactly clear, the recipe says to let the sauce reduce for ten minutes, which to me means leave it uncovered. Which would result in tomato sauce all over my kitchen. Because I am already guaranteed to clean up what looks essentially like a massacre after Parker finishes eating, this to me doesn't sound like too great of an idea. So I cover the pan with one of those mesh splatter screen things that you use for frying. Keeps the mess to a minimum while allowing your sauce to reduce "until it becomes quite lumpy and oily." Loverly. So the sauce reduced and the pasta cooked and things were working out just peachy. The beautiful thing about this dish is that the sauce takes pretty much exactly the amount of time it take to boil your pasta. As soon as I turned the burner off for the sauce I drained the pasta and tossed it all together in the pan.


The kiddy serving got tossed with frozen peas to cool it down. Mine was eaten straight out of the pan. Verdict? Well, take a look.

Thoroughly enjoyed by Parker, as it always is. As for me? Definitely should have minced the garlic--the flavor wasn't strong enough for me. I also think I ended up cooking more than the intended half pound of pasta, as I thought it was a touch too dry. Overall not bad, just not as good as it normally is. Parker had seconds, even after he finished his dessert of diced Bartlett pears.

And for once, I actually packed up the leftovers. Hooray self control.


Breakfast, anyone?

Meet Parker

So far you've seen a few things I've made here at Making it with Meleyna. The best thing that's come out of making it with me?

Awwww. That's Parker. You'll hear about him a lot.

So he eats a lot. He'll eat a bowl of oatmeal, a whole banana, and a sippy of whole milk and be whining at the fridge 20 minutes later for Goldfish. Which I have to keep on top of the fridge because he will help himself if they're in the pantry. Look, photographic evidence.


Because he likes to eat, I really do try to give him the best food that I can. Though I admit to making grilled cheese or nuking frozen turkey meatballs, I do my best to make something other than typical "kid food." He eats a lot of that at day care, and I personally feel its a small effort to throw something decent together when we're at home. I get home from work anywhere from 5:30 to 6:30 depending on the day, so I'm proof its not impossible to get decent food on the table/high chair tray at a decent hour. And unless I've made a big pot of curry or soup or something, he generally gets something made especially for him. So stop being lazy and get your ass in the kitchen.

Due to him having a fever, I didn't go to work Friday. Despite this fact, dinnertime was still a rush, as we were down the street at the little park area until about six. (What, don't you go to the park when you're sick?) I opened up the pantry for inspiration, and see a bottle of Marsala staring back at me. Poor little baby had been used once probably about eight months ago, and got lost in the shuffle of assorted vinegars and oils. Chicken marsala, anyone? Ha, guess what little man? You don't really have a choice. As my mother always said, "You eat it, and you like it."

So I started by slicing up some adorable little cremini mushrooms I had picked up earlier that day. See?


Not exactly even slices, but despite my appearance, I'm actually not flawless. Crazy. So I added these to a hot pan I lubed up with about a tablespoon total of both olive oil and butter. I tossed it around to coat all those beautiful little fungi with the fat and left it alone for a bit to pick up some color. Meanwhile, I diced up some thigh meat from a leftover roast chicken, and minced a garlic clove. After the mushrooms were nice and toasty brown, I added the chicken along with a stripped sprig of thyme. Salt and pepper, and then a good glug of both marsala and chicken broth. And by chicken broth I mean I sprinkled a bit of bouillon over everything and added a bit of hot tap water. I didn't add the garlic in the beginning so as to avoid burning over the high heat, but I meant to add it before I deglazed. But I forgot. So I added after the liquid. Life goes on. I let the liquid cook down a bit, tasted, added a touch more salt, and went to the fridge to get the leftover cooked pasta from the night before. Except then I remembered I had left it sitting the colander and it got all dry and nasty and I had tossed it. A quick scan of the fridge produced leftover canned diced new potatoes from breakfast. (These things are seriously perfect. Diced teeny-tiny and already cooked.) I added them to the pan off the heat and let the residual heat warm them up while also cooling the rest to a palatable temperature of lukewarm.

I think the blue plastic spoon adds a nice splash of color.

So what was the kiddie verdict? He ate the first couple of bites I fed to him, but once left to his own devices, he wanted nothing to do with it. Wait, that's a lie, it was apparently really exciting to dump it on his tray and then rub his hands in his hair. It was obviously delicious, and he ate a couple of bites, so my reasoning is that he still wasn't feeling great and still wasn't up for eating. Obviously it wasn't my cooking. So I packed it up and put it in the fridge for a later day. I emphatically did not stand over his high chair tray and pick out all the mushrooms and give the rest to the dog. Who would do that?

This huge effort I made took all of 22 minutes. With a toddler literally trying to push you out of the kitchen to go back to the park. And even though he didn't eat it, I got a lovely little mushroom appetizer. And really, if your kid didn't finish this, would you really be picking at his leftovers?

Hang-over.

Back in my young drinking days, a hangover was some sort of myth I had never experienced. I'd pass out around 3 AM (or later) and be up around nine ready to rock out my day. I've never been much of a sleeper. And while my roommates snoozed into the afternoon, I was in the kitchen making open-faced smoked salmon, avocado, fried egg sandwiches. Their loss.

Be it my ripe old age, or the fact that I have a kid, I just can't hack it these days. If I roll into bed around three, I'm up three-four hours later. And that's a no go, kids. Rock star drinking status? Kissed that goodbye years ago, along with my perky pre-nursing boobs (sigh).

So a couple weeks ago, after getting home at about 5:30 AM (!), I was definitely hurting the next day. Well, I guess technically just a couple hours later, but whatever. The cure to a few too many well vodka tonics and a late night run to the casino?


You're lookin at it, kids. In-n-Out Cheeseburger. With onion. And pickles. And a realllly big Diet Coke (you know, cause its calorie free). Normally I go for the Double-Double, but it is the new year, and I have been working really hard to lose a few extra pounds. So I displayed a degree of restraint that probably would have helped me out a lot more the night before. At least I learned my lesson. I only had three drinks that night.

Bacon and Egg

Linguine alla Carbonara

So despite the fact that losing weight is the lamest and most unoriginal New Year's resolution everrrr, I'm doing my best. (It works out well--I'm pretty lame myself.) So in an effort to lose weight, I've been doing my best to eat breakfast everyday. Today I had what I consider to be a pretty well balanced breakfast: bacon, egg, and starch. Traditional components, yes, though execution was not exactly your classic Grand Slam. Carbonara, my friends.

Every attempt I've made at this dish has been pretty meh. The previous (two I believe?) recipes I've used have included cream and have been waaay too soupy. The recipe I based today's breakfast on didn't include any, and the reviews looked promising. So to begin.

As I didn't have any cured pig's jowl lying around, I stuck to a couple strips of bacon. I must say, I did a fabulous job browning the bacon. Normally it gets too done too quick, but I kept the heat on medium lowish this time and it browned beautifully. I added the onions to the bacon fat and let them sweat over low ehat while my four ounces of linguine (my preferred shape of pasta) was on the back burner. A couple minutes before the pasta finished, I added a good glug of the two dollar Chardonnay my dad's so partial to to the bacon and onion pan. Despite the price tag, no detrimental effect as far as I could tell. (The whole "don't cook with it unless you'd drink it" rule doesn't really apply in this house. If its good enough to drink, drink it.) Bacon and starch taken care of, we move onto the egg. As I was cooking for myself, the base of my sauce was a single egg rather than the three specified. I stirred in enough Microplaned Parmigiano (no Romano) until the consistency looked liked I thought it should (kinda lemon-curd-before-you-cook-it looking). You know, because I'm a carbonara expert. Anyway, I dumped the drained pasta into the bacon-onion-wine juices, swishy swished it around in the pan, and dumped it all into the egg/cheese mixture and broke out the tongs to combine it as evenly as possibly while the pasta was still hot. And as it is coal miner's pasta, I grabbed the pepper grinder and worked my wrist harder than my 16 year old brother. (Ewwww I'm gross. Get used to it.)


Verdict? Delicious. My only adjustments would be to use a touch less cheese and perhaps save a bit of pasta water to thin it out--it was a little thick and cheesey. I think if I had used a touch less Parm it wouldn't have been quite so thick, and the other flavors would have been a bit more balanced. So a tasty breakfast without much effort, using stuff I have lying around the fridge and pantry. And the best part? No cream, so its reduced fat carbonara! Right...
Here's to the New Year.

Welcome Kids

Well hello there.

If you haven’t gotten it by now, I’m Meleyna. I’m a single working mother of a beautiful 16 month old boy. (Emphasis on single. So what’re you doing tonight?) I cook a lot, and I eat even more. (Red flag: Not a cheap date.) I’ve spent the last 21 years of my life in Scottsdale, Arizona and don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. (This is based more on my shitty financial situation rather than love for my hometown.) Other than cooking, during the week I like to read and watch a lot of crappy TV. On the weekend I may or may not get crazy and have a vodka tonic or six. (Red flag: Not a cheap date.) I may or may not limit my drinking to the weekend, but that’s for me to know, and you to laugh at when I inevitably put up some ridiculous drunk post.

Despite what 95% of people who meet me believe, I’m not Hawaiian. I am Japanese, but only half, and I like to play it up–its exotic and makes me interesting. My personality sucks, so really all I’ve got is my token minority friend status. In reality, I’m a fourth generation Twinkie. I don’t always take off my shoes when I come in the house, I eat more pasta than rice, and if you offer, I have no problem letting you pick up the check at the end of the night. But hey, my kid sure does know where his mimi and otete are.

Enjoy!