• spanish poblano casserole

    Did you plant any peppers this year? Are you now slammed with so many that you don’t know what to do with them all? Am I the only one?

    My kids have brought in so many bowls of pepper that it’s kinda ridiculous. I’d forgotten what I’d planted — turned out to be bells, bananas, and poblanos. We ate a bunch in salads, and my younger daughter and I fried up multiple batches of mixed peppers and onions which we then divided into small portions to freeze for winter soups, spaghetti, and beans (a kitchen hack which is so freakin’ handy that I may have already plowed through a large portion of my supply, oops).

    ANYWAY. When one of my girlfriends admired my giant bowl of peppers, I said help yourself. So she did, but she took only the poblanos — all the poblanos. Why just the poblanos? I asked. Because I have a special dish that uses poblanos, she said. (And actually, back then we were calling them “anchos” but now I’m pretty sure they’re poblanos. See above comment about not knowing what I planted.)

    A couple days later when the next giant bowl of peppers landed in my kitchen, I texted her. 

    Me: What’s that pepper recipe you were going to make?
    Her: Layer of peppers covered with Spanish rice, beans, corn, cheese (you could add meat), and baked. 
    Me (a couple days later): What’s your Spanish rice recipe?
    Her: Last time I sautéed onions, peppers, tomatoes, garlic with cumin, turmeric, salt. Then I added already cooked rice. You can also dump all that with the uncooked rice and water in the rice cooker.

    And then I was off.

    One thing I did differently from my girlfriend’s recipe: I blistered my poblanos in my birthday Ooni (more on that later!) to give them a charred, smoky flavor.

    There is so much ooh la la in this photo that I can hardly stand it.

    Alternatively, you could blister them over a gas flame, or under the broiler, or just use them fresh, uncharred. As you like it!

    I’ve actually made this recipe twice now, both times serving it with sour cream and salsa. The first time my family was kind of befuddled. Like, they thought it was good but didn’t know what it was (at which point I realized that I don’t often make casseroles, ha!) and kinda tiptoed suspiciously around it, asking questions and making suggestions, such as: 

    *top with chopped tomatoes, shredded lettuce, and onions 
    *avocados would be good!
    *more beans
    *serve with corn tortillas or tortilla chips
    *lime wedges

    Clearly, they were digging the Mexican vibes.

    Even though my whole family ended up scarfing this casserole (when we had it for family night supper, my older son had four giant servings), certain kids picked out the large pieces of pepper. I get it, actually: large chunks of pepper are kinda daunting (though they’re silky soft and cut easily). But the reason my girlfriend recommends leaving them in big pieces is because every now and then, she says, you get a pepper that’s wildly fiery and it’s nice to be able to just pluck it out. However, I have only encountered one chunk of spicy pepper in all my poblano casserolling, and it wasn’t very spicy, so if you’re feeling brave, go ahead and rough-chop the poblanos and just sprinkle them over the bottom of the pan.   

    I think this casserole might make for a good freezer meal. In fact, I have one in the freezer for the family to eat while I’m gone, so I’ll have to check in with them later to see how it turned out and then report back. 

    I don’t have any photos of the finished casserole, but here’s a photo of our supper club …

    … to which I contributed this casserole, along with homemade sour cream and fresh corn tortillas.

    Spanish Poblano Casserole
    Adapted from my friend’s texted recipe.

    For the pepper layer, feel free to use whatever peppers you have on hand. Also, I did not measure my ingredients for the Spanish rice; just do whatever feels good.

    6-10 fresh poblanos 
    3-4 cups Spanish recipe (see below)
    1 pound crumbled sausage, cooked
    2 cups of corn
    4-5 cups of beans
    a few cups of grated cheeses, such as Pepper Jack, Mozzarella, Feta, Cheddar, etc.

    to make the poblanos
    Wash and then char, if desired (this step can be done ahead). De-stem and de-seed the poblanos, cut in half (or rough-chop them), and spread them over the bottom of a casserole pan. Drizzle with olive oil.

    to make the rice
    Heat some oil (or sausage grease, bacon fat, whatever) and toss in a couple cups of uncooked white rice along with some — all of this is optional — chopped onion, pepper, tomato, and minced garlic. Saute until the rice is toasty. Add 1 teaspoon of turmeric, a couple teaspoons of ground cumin, some chopped fresh cilantro (if you have it), a teaspoon of salt, and some black pepper and stir. Transfer the toasted rice to the rice cooker, top with the proper amount of water or chicken broth, and cook.

    Spread a layer of rice over the poblanos (you probably won’t use all the rice, just FYI), followed by the cooked sausage, the corn, the beans, and then a couple cups of cheese. Drizzle the whole thing with olive oil. Cover with foil and bake at 375 degrees for 45 minutes. Remove the foil, add a couple more cups of cheese, and bake, uncovered, until the cheese is melty and toasty. 

    Serve the casserole with salsa, sour cream, hot sauce, and fresh hot corn tortillas. Other optional condiments: black olives, chopped green onions, picked red onions, diced tomatoes, shredded lettuce, fresh cilantro, avocado, tortilla chips, and lime wedges.

    This same time, years previous: gingerbread to build with, simplest sourdough bagels, show and tell, the quotidian (10.12.20), the relief sale of 2019, English muffins, a weekend away, soiree!, peanut butter fudge, a list.

  • this guy

    After church on Sunday, our older daughter snapped some photos of my husband and me. We never pose just nice. Here I am, aggressively pointing out that I’m taller than him in my heels.

    And then I went goofy without him knowing.

    He figured it out, though, right quick. Probably because our daughter was laughing.

    At which point he went all “don’t touch me” on me, which is his MO.

    And thus concluded our brief foray into the world of couples portrait photography.

    The End.

    P.S. Today’s his birthday and I’m celebrating it by not wrecking his life by making him build a whole freaking barn (a gift which was as overwhelming as it was extravagant and from which he is still recovering/reeling). Today, we’re celebrating with birthday bagels for breakfast, and burgers on the grill with the kiddos tonight.

    This same time, years previous: barn cake, mushroom salt, Belper Knolle, fig walnut biscotti, home again, happy birthday, sweetie!, pasta with chicken, broccoli, and oven-roasted tomatoes, up and over.

  • easy-peel hard boiled eggs

    A little while back, my mother reported she’d had a long and involved phone conversation with my aunt regarding hard boiled eggs.

    Apparently, the trick to easy peeling is to first boil the water and then add the eggs.

    Done this way, the shells release easy-peasy. Maybe because the hot water made the eggs suck in their egg guts? 

    I was skeptical — if this method worked so well, wouldn’t I have heard of it by now? — but then I tried it and my head exploded just a little. Easy peeling. Smooth eggs. HOLY COW.

    It took me a few tries to figure out the exact process — whether or not to return the eggs to a full boil, and how long to cook them for — and I made a few batches of soft boiled eggs in the process, but I think I’ve finally nailed it. 

    Now, making hardboiled eggs, or rather the peeling of them, has gotten infinitely easier. Thanks, Mom and Aunty V. I can’t wait to reap the rewards of your next phone call.

    Easy-Peel Hard Boiled Eggs

    Boil water.
    Place the eggs on a spoon and lower them gently into the water.
    Bring the water back to a full boil.
    Cut the heat and set the timer for 10 minutes.
    When the time is up, pour off the hot water.
    Run cold water over the eggs until they are cool to the touch.
    Peel — giggling wildly all the while — and then eat!

    Note: a 10-minute steep time yields a jammy-set yolk. If you want a firmer yolk, go 11 or 12 minutes. 

    This same time, years previous: mushroom salt, the quotidian (10.4.21), twelve thousand doughnuts, catching our breath, wherein the blogger encounters a good book and tells her readers about it in a roundabout sort of way, at least I tried.