What’s for supper? Vol. 471: Tag yourself! I’m the community goat

Happy Friday! I’m parked in the shade outside the chapel, about to down a frozen mocha coffee. That’s three or four migraine triggers in a single cup. All I can say is I woke up feeling so fuddled and monstrous, I didn’t think I could feel worse, and the craving for this one particular gas station drink was so very strong. If I can still form complete sentences by the time I get to the end of this post, we’ll know I got away with it. 

Here’s what we ate this week:

SATURDAY
Leftovers and pizza pockets

Saturday morning I had set my alarm, which I am privileged enough to not usually have done on Saturdays! A customer was coming to pick up a number of mini cheesecakes and mini pies; and Clara’s boyfriend was coming to patch up the siding in front of the house where the porch used to lurk.

Here is what the front of the house looked like two years ago:

and here it is now:

Poor old house! In between these two pictures, it acquired a terrible scar, over which we stapled plastic. So believe me, this is better. The patch is white because we live in Maison De Nonstandarde, so of course they don’t sell that color of siding anymore. So I need to paint, and obviously do a power wash. But that’s an improvement! She’s getting there. The little rock garden in front is filling out nicely

with more things budding. 

So then we went shopping, and in the afternoon, Clara came by with pastries, including this magnificent one, which was spicy tomato and olive with saffron.

Actually, there were two of these, and guess who didn’t want any? Everyone but me! So guess who ate both??? Only me!!! No regrets. They were incredible. If you’re ever in Keene, Fire Dog Breads makes nothing but delicious food. 

It was so nice and warm out, we took the ducklings outside and let them run around. They get a little silly, especially since their leader, Lego Johnny Cash, is half black Swedish, which is the breed Daffy Duck was modeled after. LJC gets VERY daffy sometimes. But the four of them have a strong drive to stick together, and it turns out they all enjoy being whistled to. 

What silly, lovely creatures they are. 

Also, wow, I sit weird. (Yes, I know a prolonged habit of w-sitting is associated with autism. I think what happened is, because I was born in the 70’s, I’m not autistic, but most of my kids are. It happens!)

SUNDAY
Chicago-adjacent hot dogs, chips

Sunday after Mass, I mowed a big swath of the back yard. It’s crazy how quickly it goes from “oooh, we’re finally getting some touches of green back in the world” to “I know my shoes are out there somewhere, but they belong to the jungle now.”

Then I drilled out the remaining holes (there is something existentially wrong with that phrase, but you know what I mean) for the clothesline base, and put in the rest of the bolts; and then I conscripted some big kids into dragging the whole thing over to the side leg of the back yard.

I have to attach the washers and nuts to the underside of the base, and obviously replace the ropes, but it’s getting there. I feel a little bad, because it’s in a spot that has been overgrown for several years, and now when the people in the apartment house look out their window, instead of seeing wild green, they’ll see my fatass pants flapping in the breeze. However, they (the neighbors, not my pants) invariably fill the air with pot smoke and/or cotton candy vape stink every time it’s nice out, so I guess we’re even. 

In the afternoon, Benny asked me to show her how to make flower crowns, and then Corrie came out and Benny showed her. So we all had crowns and were happy princesses of the springtime. 

For dinner, we had Chicago-style hot dogs, more or less. I couldn’t find pickled peppers and nobody really likes pickle relish, so we had them with chopped onions and tomatoes, pickle spears, mustard, and celery salt.

Gotta say, these really are excellent hot dogs. Wish I had sprung for better quality buns, but they were very yummy. As far as I know, this is the sole reason for the existence of celery salt. 

MONDAY
Pizza

Monday morning, I went to pick up a kayak someone in town was giving away!

It does have a crack, but it’s on the top, and we can use plastic welding to make it watertight again. I super enjoyed my short trip out into the dirt road part of town. 

Nothing but birdsong going on. So lovely. 

I don’t really know what I did all the rest of the day. It suddenly got hot (high 80’s, which I realize is not hot for some people in May, but we are still getting frost warnings here!). I do remember weeding around St. Joseph and fretting because I hadn’t planted any summer-blooming perennials there — and then discovering some lupine seedlings. 

So that’s settled! Probably they are purple, but I don’t really know where they came from, so they could be any color. 

For supper we had pizza. I made a mere two pizzas, one plain cheese, one pepperoni. 

TUESDAY
Buffalo chicken drumsticks, pasta salad

Tuesday I did a whole bunch of weeding in the backyard, and there are all kinds of things popping up that I forgot I planted. Then it got REALLY hot. You know how candy thermometers have markings on them — soft ball, hard crack, and so on. (And of course fish donut, for my long-time readers.) Well, if I had a personal thermometer, when it gets up past 85, it would be marked “no brain.” Or possibly Wise Men of Chelm. 

What happened is, I was laying some chicken drumsticks out on a pan and thinking about clean up. I’ve been hounding the kids to do a better job cleaning, but the soft-hearted part of me feels bad about making messes they have to clean. So first I thought to line the pan with tin foil, but sometimes meat sticks to the tinfoil. So I thought parchment paper, but I knew I was running a little low. So then I thought, oh heck, I can just cover the pan with a second pan! Then it will stay perfectly cl—

oh, wait. 

Which reminded me of The Wise Men of Chelm, a story which can be found in Isaac Bashevis Singer’s Zlateh the Goat and Other Stories, which is masterfully illustrated by the great Maurice Sendak. In one story, it snows in the village of Chelm, and the elders believe silver, diamonds, and pearls have fallen from the sky. Their money troubles are over! But they soon realize they must warn the villagers not to come out of their homes and trample the treasure.  What to do? 

Silly Tudras had an idea.

“Let’s send a messenger to knock on all the windows and let the people know that they must remain in their houses until all the silver, all the pearls, and all the diamonds are safely gathered up.”

For a while the Elders were satisfied. They rubbed their hands in approval of the clever idea. But then Dopey Lekisch called out in consternation, “The messenger himself will trample the treasure.”

The Elders realized that Lekisch was right, and again they wrinkled their high foreheads in an effort to solve the problem.

“I’ve got it!” exclaimed Shmerel the Ox. “Tell us, tell us,” pleaded the Elders.

“The messenger must not go on foot. He must be carried on a table so that his feet will not tread on the precious snow.”

Everybody was delighted with Shmerel the Ox’s solution; and the Elders, clapping their hands, admired their own wisdom.

The Elders immediately sent to the kitchen for Gimpel the errand boy and stood him on a table. Now who was going to carry the table? It was lucky that in the kitchen there were Treitle the cook, Berel the potato peeler, Yukel the salad mixer, and Yontel, who was in charge of the community goat. All four were ordered to lift up the table on which Gimpel stood. Each one took hold of a leg. On top stood Gimpel, grasping a wooden hammer with which to tap on the villagers’ windows. Off they went.

Click through for the picture of me figuring out how to keep my pan clean. 

Anyway, I put down some parchment paper and roasted the chicken with salt, pepper, and garlic powder, then glopped some buffalo sauce on it, cooked it a little longer, glopped on some more and cooked it some more. 

Then I made some pasta salad. I used radiatori, and I looked it up, and it is indeed named after radiators.  I rinsed the cooked pasta to cool it down, then added . . . let’s see, olive oil, white wine vinegar, asparagus tips from my garden, chopped olives, bits of pepperoni, leftover tomatoes and onions from the hot dogs, salt, pepper, oregano, and garlic powder, leftover red pesto from Mother’s Day sandwiches, chopped sugar snap peas, leftover feta from who knows what, and some grated parmesan. 

We had some appointments in the afternoon, and the receptionist at one place said to me, “You ARE dressed for the hot weather!” Why did she say that? At first I felt bad, because why did she say that? Then I felt good, because I’m not the only one out there yapping weird stuff.

Then we came home and had cold buffalo chicken and pasta salad, and it was a very good hot weather meal. 

Looks like I ate outside, either because it was cooler outside than inside, or possibly it was so hot I didn’t want to be with anyone, so I went outside. 

WEDNESDAY
Chicken burgers, raw vegetables

Wednesday Clara took me out for lunch! We had a delightful meal at the Fresh Day Cafe, which is an Eastern European-themed spot in Keene. I had avocado toast on a wonderful dark, seedy bread, with fresh cheese and pomegranate seeds, and Clara got pierogies with bacon and scallions. We both had Turkish coffee, and everything was absolutely delicious. A VERY pleasant spot, run by the absolute nicest people. 

After lunch we did a little thrifting, and both talked ourselves out of numerous foolish purchases. I did come away with two table fans and a peach pitter, which I NEEDED. 

Supper was chicken burgers, leftover pasta salad, and a bunch of raw veggies. 

This looks like such a sensible, restrained plate, except then I went back and has seconds and then thirds on pasta salad. I just find that radiator shape irresistible. 

THURSDAY
Butter chicken, rice, flatbread, kachumber salad, mango

Thursday it finally cooled down, which was good, because the last thing on the menu was butter chicken, which I was looking forward to, but I really didn’t wanna cook it (or eat it) on a hot day.

In the morning, I did all the prep. Not exactly mise en place, but I assembled the gang

and more or less followed the recipe from RecipeTinEats. I had a bunch of driving to do during the day, so I started the chicken marinating, and right before I left, I made some dough for flatbread, using this taboon recipe I have settled on.

Jump to Recipe

I hurt my arm sometime in the past few weeks, and it’s gotten worse and worse, so I was smart enough to realize I would not want to be crouching over a pan flipping naan; but butter chicken really wants some kind of bread. When I got home, I started some rice cooking in the Instant Pot. I thought I had a big sack of basmati rice, but it was actually jasmine, oh well! Then I started the butter chicken cooking, and then I made something new to me: A kachumber salad. I read a few recipes and then wung it. 

This is a mixture of chopped-up tomatoes, cucumbers, red onion, cilantro, salt, pepper, a bit of fresh minced jalapeño, white wine vinegar, fresh lemon juice, a lot of cumin, a medium amount of dark chili powder, and I think that is it? It is essentially Indian pico de gallo, and wow, it’s wonderful. 

“Kachumber” comes from the Hindi word kachumbar, which means shredding or chopping. It is not, to my sorrow, related to “cucumber,” which is etymologically mysterious. I did learn this:

In 1790s the pronunciation “cowcumber” was standard except in western England dialects and “coocumber” was considered pedantic, but 30 years later, with the spread of literacy and education “cowcumber” was limited to the ignorant and old-fashioned.

To think! We could have been putting cowcumber in our choppy-choppy salad all along, but for the snobbery of nations. 

LOTS of cultures have some variety of this dish, and I’m so delighted to have found this one. Damien loved it, too. I think next time, I will try a little amchur powder and mint. Hoo de hoo hoo! I put it together just before supper, because I didn’t want it to get soggy. 

I was nervous about the bread, because usually I make taboon in one big slab, and serve a juicy chicken dish on top of it. But this time I separated the dough into eight pieces and stretched them into rounds, then dimpled them with my fingers as usual.

I had no idea if they would meld into one piece, or shrink up, or what. I baked them and they turned out so good! They kept their size and shape, but puffed up nicely (like spongy bread, not separating into a pocket like pita), and were just lightly browned on the bottom. Here they are baked, with one flipped over:

I could have brushed them with butter and given them maybe a sprinkle of herbs or something, but they were great as they were. A little chewy, quite salty, and a happy addition to this meal. 

I had some extra chicken, and because most of the kids are not crazy about butter chicken, took the extra and dusted it with flour, salt, and pepper, and fried it up in butter. Something for everyone. I also found some mint chutney and some tamarind chutney, and everything was delightful. 

Also on Thursday evening, SOMEONE TOOK THE ACADIA AWAY. This terrible, terrible car has been giving me tsuris for years now, long after it stopped running. And now it is gone! Hooray!

FRIDAY
Quesadillas, tortilla chips and salsa, salad

I picked up the kids with the half day, stopped at the thrift store for more fat pants, stopped at the town garden club sale for some dahlia tubers, went to adoration, got the kids, stopped at the store for a birthday present, picked up some prescriptions, and now I am home, feeling great. Looks like the curse of the frozen mocha missed me this time! I’m not going to tempt fate and try these all the time. But next time I’m feeling like garbage and my body is trying to convince me that all I need is a gas station drink, I guess I’ll listen!