Tag Archives: Slow Cooker

Blended

It’s February, the thermometer hasn’t seen a temperature above 30 for a week, and the heat pump isn’t functioning properly.

So we had milkshakes.

We’d gone to exchange some shirts I’d bought in the wrong size and stopped to browse in the kitchen section on the way out of the store. Amid all the kitchen implements we had in our blended kitchen, neither of us had brought a blender. There had been talk of blenders at Christmastime, but we hadn’t found one we really liked at a price we also really liked. Although the idea of a high-powered, do-everything machine has some appeal, we’re not convinced we want another large appliance. Besides, we don’t crush ice all that often, and I’m not sure that homemade peanut butter is any better than store-bought.  An immersion blender seems the better option for pureeing soup and mixing the occasional milkshake. It seemed possible that the Cuisinart model we saw was exactly what we needed. The price was certainly appealing. We brought it home, stopping at the dairy store for ice cream, along with milk and eggs–snow was predicted, after all.

That morning, we’d put sauerkraut, kielbasa, chopped apple, and a little caraway seed in the slow-cooker. It was almost ready; there was just enough time to turn some leftover mashed potatoes into pancakes to go along with the kraut-und-wurst, and to sauté a few green beans and tomatoes, just because. It was not a heavy meal at all, but hearty and warming.  Maybe a little more caraway next time; maybe a little celery seed, too.  But overall, no complaints.

Halfway through an episode of Sherlock, we paused for dessert. She is unconvinced that the blender is comfortable to hold, so she scooped the ice cream and poured the milk; I did the blending.  The new machine works perfectly, though I see her point about its handle being a little thick.  We’ll give it one more try; if we’re still not happy, it goes back to the store. As is her custom, she drizzled chocolate sauce down the side of the glasses before pouring in the milkshake. As for Bailey’s or Kahlua or Starbucks liqueur, we passed: these were straight-up delicious ice cream treats with no “adult” components needed.

One might argue that the depth of winter is not the right time for a cold dessert. She might say that’s a matter of thermal regulation: putting cold inside when it’s cold out makes sense to her. If milkshakes make us want to snuggle tighter under a blanket while finishing our movie, that’s a good enough reason for me.

Chocolate shakes in a vanilla kitchen: the new backsplash is installed!

Chocolate shakes in a vanilla kitchen: the new backsplash is installed!

The Night Shift

“How do you do it?” asked her colleague, who’d arrived from Alaska that afternoon.  I asked what she meant. “How do you eat so late?”

We were seated in a Manhattan nightclub, having just ordered dinner before a cabaret performance.  It was 9 PM on a Monday. This wasn’t an early dinnertime for us, but, sad to say, it wasn’t unusually late.

It’s a combination of things. Her commute, door-to-door, is just under two hours.  I’m often working until it’s just time to meet her train. Sometimes we run errands or stop at the market on the way home. And, of course, we both prefer home cooking to takeout.

The problem isn’t a late dinnertime; lots of people eat dinner quite late.  (I’m pretty confident that the performers we saw didn’t tuck in to their dinner until after the show.) The problem is a late dinnertime that follows a long day with an early start that will have another early-starting long day after that.

She picked up dinner for herself on the way home from the train.  I’d taken some leftover chicken and dumplings to eat between office time and rehearsal.  We were covered for Tuesday.  But we could do a little planning ahead.  While she finished the last of a closet-moving project in preparation for the painter who’ll be working in the bedroom this morning, I prepared two dishes for the Night Shift.

Overnight Oatmeal

Bring 3-1/2 cups of water to a boil.

Meanwhile, in a medium sized saucepan over medium-high heat, dry-toast 1 cup of steel-cut oats, shaking the pan to toss the oats so they don’t burn.  When they’re slightly brown and beautifully nutty-smelling, turn off the heat. Add 1/2 teaspoon of salt, shake once more to distribute, carefully pour the boiling water over the oats, cover the pan, and let sit for 6-8 hours.

I used to do overnight oats in a slow cooker, but like the texture of this version much better; the oats are more toothsome than mushy. Better still, cleanup is incredibly easy. The oats simply slide out of the pan, which just needs a rinse and a wipe.

Lentil-Sausage-Kale Stew (adapted from Food52)

  • 8 oz. lentils, picked, rinsed, and drained
  • 4 links pre-cooked sausage, sliced
  • cups stock
  • 2 cups diced tomatoes
  • onion, diced
  • cloves of garlic, minced
  • 1.5 cups sliced carrots
  • teaspoon dried thyme
  • teaspoon dried sage
  • salt & pepper to taste
  • 1 bunch kale or swiss chard 

Combine all but the kale in a slow cooker, set to low; cook for 6-8 hours. Remove woody stems from the greens, chop, and add to the stew 10 minutes before serving.

Red lentils break down more than brown ones. If preparing this dish as a make-ahead, don’t add the kale until heating before serving.

At 4 AM, the aroma of the sausage-lentil stew very nearly caused me to get up for an extremely early (or extremely late) supper, but I decided to wait.

I wanted to point out to her colleague that 9 PM is really only 4 PM by her body clock, and that seems more like a late lunch than a late dinner–but she’d probably had a very early start to her day in order to fly to NYC.  And, if I have learned anything about the employee devotion of the non-profit organization for which they both work, she probably worked late yesterday, too.