A Discussion of Leftovers
I'm not up to much of anything in the kitchen lately, except for the same-old-same-old routine. And a few not-so-exciting new recipes completely unworthy of this blog. I did make a version of an Irish soda bread (a last minute decision) from a completely untried recipe over at Seven Spoons and without all of the required ingredients with success. I followed the recipe except for a few very small changes:
- I used oat bran cereal instead of oats for even more fiber.
- I didn't have yogurt, so I used fat-free ricotta instead. That was a nice addition, but the dough wasn't wet enough. I added water, a little at a time, until the dough was a nice texture--a whole 1 cup of water, to be exact!
- I baked the loaf in a cooler oven (350F) for a much longer time.
The result was a very nice, savory, whole-grain scone. It was tasty, and would have been even better with dried fruit added (raisins, cranberries or currants). It made a large loaf, too--plenty to enjoy with dinner last night with more than half leftover. It made for a lovely accompaniment with tea this morning at breakfast, slathered with a wee bit of butter.
So now I have leftover cabbage and a little corned beef left; I'm trying to decide on how to turn it into a soup that Mr.W will eat. I'm not sure that will work, since he's anti-cabbage... any ideas out there for a cabbage-free corned beef soup?
Things to Come... Maybe
I suppose it wouldn't be out of line to share that I'm a bit aggravated. I always get that way as my birthday approaches. Which is odd, really, because I remember being so very excited as a child as this particular milestone rolled around. Not so much anymore. It's more of a looming feeling of dread. Another year. Ugh. (Not that I consider myself so very, very old, mind you.)
I may have alluded to this in the past, and I don't want to make this a generally recurring theme here since this is a foodblog after all, but a bit of explanation may be due. My husband and I have been dealing with infertility for quite a number of years. Birthdays and holidays are markers at which I would say, "maybe next year," only to experience acute disappointment when next year rolled around. Slowly but surely, that glimmer of hope at each birthday and holiday just turned into dread. I think it began the year I got a birthday card from my mother, which read, "Don't worry. There's still plenty of time for children."
Yeah. I won't say how many years ago that was.
I share all of this with you not to solicit your pity, but to reveal a bit about me. And that, as a natural result of this particular situation, Mr.W and I are seeing a fertility specialist in Syracuse (the nearest "big city," which is an hour away). This requires some frequent road trips, doctor's appointments, tests and more tests, and soon, fertility drugs.
My posts might just become cranky. Or oddly timed. Or peppered with strange recipes based on hormonally-charged cravings. We'll just have to see how things go as this process continues. At any rate, we do hope to eventually have a high chair here at Mrs.W's Kitchen.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
A Discussion of Leftovers