November 6, Food for Thought

November 6, oh, November 6. You may be a lame, short post today.

I’m hoping I’ll have a chance to blog a better blog tonight. I have two issues I’d like to cover.

1.) Time-saving “food.”

And

2.) “Time-saving” food.

Yes, those are air quotes. And yes, there is a big difference between the first and second. Really each topic could be a single post, so maybe this will be two additions posts.

In the event I don’t get one of them completed tonight, I figure I can post this-here coming attraction and technically be covered for a November 6 post for NaBloPoMo. Hey, I can try, right?

Tasting Tuesday, er, Sunday: Mead #2 Tasting Notes

We’ve been drinking some of the mead that I bottled a few weeks ago. Somehow we have very little left of Mead #2. It’s not because it’s necessarily so yummy, but because I said it was OK to drink some of #2. We didn’t make that much in the first place. And we’ve stored the bottles in a place that’s probably too convenient.

I want to keep one bottle unopened for later, but until then we’re accidentally on the second-to-last bottle. So I better do some serious tasting notes on this one for future reference.

I still haven’t yet found my notes on the recipes for each batch, but if I had to go by taste alone I’d say that this is the one that was partly based on Joe’s Ancient Orange Mead. I didn’t follow that recipe exactly because, in general, I hardly ever follow recipes exactly.

I suspect batch #2 is based on Joe’s Ancient Orange Mead (JAOM, JAO, or AO) because I detect a few notes of mild orange and cloves. I remember going really easy on the cloves because I read of others who warned that the cloves can easily overpower the mead if you’re not careful. It’s much easier to add more cloves later if you want. I know that to be true from cloves in lengthy tea steepings.

The aroma is faintly of honey and wine and slightly fruity. There may be just the very faintest hint of a rubbery smell.

The taste is of unsweet mild honey with just a hint of orange and spice. It is slightly tangy and a little bit bitter. Dave describes it as watered down honey with orange peels that have been soaked in water for a week and then some pure alcohol added. I think he partly finds it to be “watered down” because of the overall lack of sweetness.

The color is light golden topaz and beautifully clear. I added a bit of buckwheat honey to all of the batches — some more than others — so the color of each is darker than if I’d used a pure orange blossom honey.

I’d say it’s somewhat lacking in body.

Like all our batches to date this one is quite dry. Nearly all sugar has fermented out, so this doesn’t have the traditional sweetness of mead. I’d guess it to be between 14% and 18% alcohol. It’s not so much that you taste it, but it has the mouthfeel of a stronger wine and we can feel it in our toes after drinking a fairly small amount of it. I definitely feel it more than a 12% wine. I notice a bit of a burn after it goes down.

As I wrote above, if I try really hard I can detect a bit of that burnt rubber smell and taste, so I think this is the one that smelled strongly of rubber at one point. I’m not even 100% sure if it’s still there. If I hadn’t been specifically trying to smell it then I probably wouldn’t notice that at all. It is really faint now, and nothing like what it was at about six months old. So this is definitely something to remember about how much mead can change as it ages.

The pH is about 3.2 based on a traditional science kit pH strip. With that strip I have to do a little guessing based on the color since the chart doesn’t have tenths. The pH strips made specifically for the fermentation process read about 3.1 to 3.2. These strips are much easier to read down to a specific pH for home fermentation. It’s good to see the consistency between the two.

I’m attempting to back-sweeten this second-to-last bottle since I don’t have much of anything else to play with for batch #2. Back-sweetening is when you add a sweetener after the fermentation. This adds, well, sweetness. I’ll be adding some wildflower honey.

Different strains of yeasts have differing levels of alcohol tolerance, so it’s one of several things that can make a difference in the dryness or sweetness of your creation. In making wine or mead, the yeast will die off once the alcohol reaches a certain level, so there can be sugar left over. With some yeasts, if you don’t have too much overall sugar (from honey or other) some yeasts just keep eating the sugar until there’s nothing left. Red Star Premier Cuvee may keep going until it reaches 18% alcohol, but that’s fairly high. I used Cuvee in at least one batch and Cote des Blanc (lower tolerance) in another. My notes would tell me which was which. Fermentation stops once it has reached the yeast’s alcohol tolerance level or all the sugar has been converted to alcohol.

If I add honey or other sugars to bottled mead there a risk of restarting the fermentation. Too much of that and the bottles can explode. A little bit and the mead (or wine or cider) can become bubbly or carbonated. It’s a very tricky balance. Bubbles are a good thing with cider, but I have no desire for sparkling mead for now. There are additives you can put in each bottle to prevent fermentation from happening, but I’d like to keep our additives to a minimum.

I blended about two tablespoons of a flavorful wildflower honey to about 440 ml of dry mead. This was more than enough to sweeten it. In fact, I could have done with less. The pH with the added honey reads more of a 3.2 to 3.3. The pH strip is only the slightest hint darker.

This honey gave the mead much more of a traditional sweetness with lots of honey aroma and flavor. I still notice a bit of very mild orange and a hint of spice with a little bitterness. The finish is tangy.

Back sweetening with honey has made the mead a wee cloudy, but that might settle out if we left it for a while or get worse if fermentation starts up again.

There’s a huge difference in the body of the mead. I’d definitely try this again when we want a sweeter mead. This is actually pretty yummy stuff.

I like dry mead more than I thought I would, but I’d also like to try making a sweeter mead that I don’t have to back sweeten.

Overall I think we’re fairly happy with this mead. I’d like to try a similar version again in the future.

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Because I Should Really Have An App Just For Keeping Recipes, Two-Ingredient Pizza Dough Recipe

Maybe this type of recipe app exists already, but I don’t have one. I have other apps that already have recipes, but I just want an app where I can enter or import my own recipes like a pocket-size set of index cards. Recipes that I really like would be easier to keep track of. And I’d be less likely to misplace notes on recipes-in-progress and experiments – like my mead. There are index card apps! Maybe I’ll check them out and see how well they’d work for this type of thing.

In the meantime, I can post recipes here on my blog so I won’t misplace them. Today, I came across this article and recipe for two-ingredient pizza dough.

Click here for the article on two-ingredient pizza crust.

Here’s the recipe:
1 Cup Greek Yogurt
1 to 1.5 Cups Self-Rising Flour*

*Or 1.5 cups all-purpose flour, 1.5 tsp. baking powder, and 3/4 tsp. salt – thus making it more of a four-ingredient pizza dough, but it still sounds good and fairly simple. Then they brush it with olive oil so it’s really a five-ingredient pizza dough. But who’s counting?

Mix ingredients in a bowl. Knead on a floured surface for 8-10 minutes (presumably until it builds gluten and the dough bounces back after a stretch). Add small amounts of flour if the dough is too sticky. Don’t let it sit around and rise like a yeast-based dough. Immediately form the dough into your desired pizza crust shape. Brush with olive oil. Add toppings. Put into a 450 degree oven and bake for 10-12 minutes.

I really like the idea of making my own self-rising flour because I think I might try it with some white whole wheat flour. Maybe add some honey to the dough too for a honey-wheat crust. That way I’d have a “simple” seven-ingredient pizza dough. Yum! Can we eat yet?

Slow Mead

In May of 2012 we started trying to make our own mead. We made three separate batches, all done around the same time, but done differently — different types of honey, different additives, slightly different overall process.

Letting it sit for a while and tasting it at various stages, we FINALLY bottled it today. Talk about taking our time! Mead takes a long time, so maybe this is somewhat appropriate.

The clarity of the mead has been quite good for a while, and we’ve been meaning to bottle it. I think I purchased the bottles over a year ago. I may have left some of the mead on some of the lees (yeast carcasses at the bottom) too long, but we’ll see. I wouldn’t say that any of the batches are fantastic yet, but they say some stronger meads can take 2-3 years and up before they’re really good …

At an earlier taste test one of the batches had a distinct sort of rubber aroma which was quite yucky. I’m pleased to say that wackiness has aged out completely. Whew! Just goes to show how important it is to age mead.

One of the batches, batch #1 as it would happen, was pretty good at the six month mark, but we decided to let it go longer as mead is supposed to take a while to age properly. At that time I made some cyser because I wanted to try something that was quicker. The cyser was not bad. I still have one bottle of it. I kind of wish I saved two. Oh well.

Mead batch #1, the one that was a fairly nice at six months, has lost nearly all of its sweetness now. In fact, I’d have to say the same for all three batches — all dry and not really sweet at all. I guess that’s somewhat to be expected. Maybe.

Two of the batches taste fairly strong now. As I didn’t own a hydrometer when I started the mead (kicking myself), I don’t know the actual alcohol content. I can guess, however, and if I compare to other known beverages, I’d guess these are the high end of what the yeast tolerated, maybe 14%? Maybe 16%? 18%? Ack.

I REALLY wish I could find my notes. I HAVE them. Somewhere. That would tell my the exact type of yeast I used and the recipe for each of these batches.

I don’t mind the dryer mead. It’s has a beautiful aroma. One of the batches tastes close to a dry white wine. Not bad, but it’s not really the traditional mead that I was going for either. Two of the batches seem a little strong, a bit like firewater. So maybe this stuff is good for dry mead that just needs to age a bit more. Um, don’t know.

I think I’ll leave all to age longer except for the two bottles that didn’t get filled all the way. Those are free game for experimentation! I’ll get out my mad scientist/mixologist hat. I may try back sweetening a bit to get more of the sweeter honey-mead flavor that I’m used to. Maybe I’ll add a bit of acid to one of the batches as it seems a little flat. And I need to find those notes.

Not a “Seat Guru”

Seat Guru, today’s Daily Prompt, asks:

You get to plan a dinner party for 4-8 of your favorite writers/artists/musicians/other notable figures, whether dead or alive. Who do you seat next to whom in order to inspire the most fun evening?

Planning where people sit at a dinner party would be like a special kind of torture to me. I can’t help but shake my head at this type of contrived social stuff. I prefer a gathering that lets guests sit where they like. Hors d’oeuvres and cocktails then meander to the table.

I understand why people might assign seating. For example, somebody’s Aunt Gloria and Cousin Martin argue which makes everybody miserable. Don’t let them sit next to each other. Fine. I figure those people will probably avoid sitting next to each other anyway, and if they don’t we’ll adjust as needed if there’s a problem. I don’t mind sitting next to anybody in my family. And I like sitting next to new people.

On the other end of that social spectrum, there are times you might want to seat folks next to each other because you’re sure this will be a good thing. Perhaps there’s a gathering of dignitaries whom you’re convinced will facilitate peaceful agreements if you give them talk time at a relaxed dinner party flowing with their favorite single malt. Go for it. You want to hook up Tim and Juanita because you’re sure they will really like each other. OK.

If I was having a high-level important dinner party, I might consider hiring somebody who loves to do that planning kind of thing. There are people like that. Maybe I’d ask a friend for advice.

What I’d really like is to have a buffet so people could sit and eat what they like and occasionally return for seconds thus allowing guests to shuffle seats so that they can talk to a variety of people. That sounds like fun! I want to talk to everybody and let them do the same. For that matter, since I’d want to have a variety of excellent food too, a good buffet seems like the way to go. People can eat what they like while sitting where they like.

So let’s say I’m having a dinner party, and we’ve established that I’m not going to stress over who sits where. I’d probably want to invite John and Hank Green and their wives. I’ve enjoyed vlogbrothers videos for years. John is a writer, and Hank, a musician. I love John Green’s writing. He seems like he’d be very cool to talk with at a party. I first saw vlogbrothers videos when Harry Potter Deathly Hallows was being released, and Hank sang “Accio Harry Potter.” It was great! I felt like there were like-minded people in the world! Other than Hank, I’m not really in awe of having musicians as dinner guests, so I’m probably not going to invite more unless they’re there purely for entertainment, they also do something else, or they happen to be somebody’s spouse. Don’t get me wrong, I love music. I love musicians.

I’d invite Samuel Clemons — he was great on Star Trek TNG! (Yes, I know he wasn’t really on ST:TNG.) But he really seems like he’d be a good conversationalist at a party.

Joanne (J.K.) Rowling and her husband. I’m a pretty big Harry Potter fan (see above), and she seems like a sharp lady. I’d probably ooze with fangeekness and embarrass myself, but I would not care.

Maybe John Scalzi and his wife because I’ve enjoyed his blog for decades (not actually decades, more like decade plus) and his books too. And I’ve maybe already had dinner with them before a long long time ago, but that’s another story. So then perhaps I shouldn’t invite them, but that would probably be wrong because I think it would be fun.

I’m at nine people and not yet done with my list. That was fast.

I’d like to invite Ray Bradbury. I’d question him on how not driving works for him because D doesn’t drive either. I’d like tips on making that work well. Also his were some of the few science fiction books on my high school reading lists, so I got to read him and get school credit. What’s not to like?

Do I have to count spouses in the 4-8 people limit? I mean, can it be 4-8 notable people and the rest are an unspecified number of other invitees? ‘Cause, if so, I’d invite spouses, and I’d like to invite friends and family who would enjoy this little shindig too.

If I’m strictly limited to inviting only 4-8 people total, then I guess I’d have to drop Scalzi and his wife because I’ve not met the other people before.

Hold on. Kurt Vonnegut. I forgot about Kurt Vonnegut. I’d like to include him. Would it be rude to drop some of the spouses?

I remember being a young teen or tween and catching the movie Slaughterhouse-Five on late-night TV. I was supposed to be asleep and every ten minutes or so I’d tell myself I’d watch for only ten minutes more, but I watched the entire movie. More recently, I read Vonnegut’s Advice to the Young on Kindness and more. I love that he can admire Jesus without being Christian. I wish everybody could appreciate the teachings of wise people without having to take sides on religion. I love Vonnegut’s take on kindness and forgiveness. I think more of both would go a long way toward making the world a better place. There seems to be too much eye-for-an-eye mentality, today, and, well, ever.

Wait! I just remembered another one to invite … And, what, I only invited one woman? That can’t be right.

This is not easy.

Fairly Tragic, Writing 101, Day Fifteen

Writing 101, Day Fifteen: Your Voice Will Find You
Our assignment: You’re told that an event that’s dear to your heart — an annual fair, festival, or conference — will be cancelled forever (or taken over by an evil organization). Write about it. For your twist, read your piece aloud, multiple times. Hone that voice of yours!

____

One of the most painful things for me to deal with is a missed chance or opportunity, so when I heard that the Fest would be permanently cancelled my heart sank. That feeling of no more. It’s so final. It sits in my middle like a bee sting. All those times I wanted to go but didn’t because there was too much laundry to do. Or my budget was stretched too far. Now it’s not even an option to go.

We had a lot of good times.

The food! Giant turkey legs, soup in a breadbowl, corn on the cob — sometimes I think we went just for the food. We can cook most of those things at home, except the turkey legs ’cause they’re smoked, but it’s just not the same. One time a puppet crafter told me that the giant turkey legs were really emu legs. I wouldn’t mind emu. But I googled it when I got home. Turkey. Probably from really big turkeys. But turkeys. The emu thing is kind of urban legend. Emu legs would be about eight times the size. I could really go for one of those giant turkey legs about now. I could even go for an emu leg if it tasted like one of those turkey legs.

We got some of the most adorable photos of my daughter wearing one of those flowery garlands on her head and when she first got her wooden sword. There was that extra-awesome time when she won at medieval pinball multiple times and this big burly guy who went after her got nothing. It was fascinating to people watch. There were shows with sword swallowing, juggling, comedy. There was that climbing wall with a dragon on top. Pirate ship. The wooden slide.

Once, on the way out, we bought a rose and a week or so later it started growing some new leaves. It was beautiful. With it sprouting like that, it was as if all the energy we had from that nice day brought the rose back to life. I know it’s probably dorky to think of it that way. ‘Course it shriveled and died eventually too. Oops.

Most of all, we had lots of just plain fun being outside together. It was like we were in some other world filled with artisans and pretty things. Entertainers. Exotic people.

We’re not even big fanatics. We almost never dress up. Some folks have entire wardrobes and get season passes. I always thought they were kind of, maybe, a little weird. On the other hand, they may have been on to something. They really got to enjoy it while it was there. Maybe they’ll miss it even more than we will though. Who knows. It seemed like it would always be there. It made for a lot of fun. Just can’t believe it.

Of Views and Berries

Writing 101, Day 11: Size Matters
Write about the house you lived in when you were 12. Vary the lengths of the sentences.

When I was twelve my mom remarried, and we moved from a bustling suburb of Chicago to a suburb of Nashville, Tennessee. I wanted to run away. It wasn’t that I didn’t like my new step dad – he was great – or that I didn’t like the house – it was quite nice.

When you’re twelve you may not think there would be so many differences from one suburb to the next. But 40 miles outside of Chicago and 40 miles outside of Nashville were a world apart. At the time, Mount Juliet, Tennessee, was more country than suburb.

The downtown had about two stoplights. I had a 45-minute school bus ride that passed nearly every type of home imaginable. Everyone talked with an accent and quite a few called me, “Yankee.” Some asked if we were from Canada. It took time to adjust.

Our house was walking distance to a pick-your-own peach orchard. It was a hilly walk with uneven blacktop warped by the sun. The closest store was a bait shop.

We had one of the most amazing views in the four-county area. The hill was so high that military and civilian helicopter pilots used it as a landmark. Sometimes they hovered level with our windows. The whole house shook. Once a pilot waved at us from slightly below our eye level. Ultralight pilots buzzed over the treetops too.

Along with my stepdad’s job being pretty decent, real estate prices differed significantly between the two locales. We were able to get a nice house. So nice that it was rumored to have been built by Burt Reynolds for Dinah Shore back when they were a thing. Don’t know if it’s true. The house was lovely but never struck me as Hollywood celebrity caliber. The view, however, was worthy.

The exterior of our house was made of stone and rustic wood. Against the view, it looked like it was pasted onto the hillside with a scenic poster behind. I had nightmares of it sliding right down. But we could see for many miles – trees, tiny houses in the distance, wee boats in the sections of Old Hickory lake that popped into view through the trees. It was breathtaking.

Chunks of stone covered the bottom about two feet up in the front and the entire back of the walkout basement. Rough, gray wood stretched to the roof which was much higher in the middle and, after a steep slope, spread gradually out from the left and right.

The great room, as they call it in those parts, was smack dab in the middle of the house and had a high “cathedral” ceiling. In Chicago we called it a family room no matter how high the ceiling. The kitchen, dining room, and formal living room formed a section to the left. The bedrooms and bathrooms were on the right.

The kitchen was huge. It was large enough to feature a two-level island in the middle which had space to eat, room to prepare food, and several cabinets and drawers for storage. The island alone had more surface space than our entire kitchen table in Chicago. There was a built-in desk to one side of the kitchen and room enough for a full family-size kitchen table.

The dinning room was nice, but hopelessly overshadowed by the kitchen. I think we used it all of three times. Same for the living room. Our cat liked to play there. A stash of cat toys was regularly trapped under the coffee table just out of his reach.

Windows stretched from the floor to almost the ceiling in nearly every room. It was full of light.

At the bottom of our yard we grew tomatoes. Blackberries grew wild in the rough at the edge of our lawn.

The house was both rustic and beautiful, but once I got over being quite so homesick for Chicago I liked going to my friends’ houses too.

My friend Julie’s in particular was fun. They had a whole playroom above their garage complete with board games, a pool table, craft and sewing supplies, and a record player. Their house wasn’t huge, but their backyard was flat as a pancake. Great for playing! And every growing season they had a garden with the best strawberries I’d ever had. It’s still hard to beat those strawberries today.

Happy Father’s Day, Non-Soylent Meals and More

Wishing all fathers a happy day! And everybody else too.

Comfort and hugs to those who find this day painful …

I’m behind in finishing some of my posts and ran a bunch of errands today.

I’m pretty sure I inadvertently mortified a young child and her father. I felt terrible. I went to a health food store where I wanted to purchase a high-protein meal-substitute powder. I found one that looked good – lots of natural stuff, protein, fiber, some greens, and antioxidants. At checkout I didn’t see any other customers and started talking with the man behind the counter saying, “I skip meals sometimes, and that’s not good.”

I’ve been using some of the Atkins meal replacement bars and shakes for times that I don’t manage lunch or breakfast. Then recently, two different friends posted that they were not grossed out, but oddly compelled, to try a new meal replacement product called Soylent. Yep, that’s right, Soylent. At least it isn’t green.

Containing all the chemical components the body needs, it’s sweetened with Sucralose but is otherwise unflavored. Reading an article in the New Yorker, Soylent type meal replacements seem to be somewhat the rage with college students who have crazy busy schedules and limited budgets. These people are not unlike me in that respect. So I began to feel compelled to try Soylent myself. And I might have ordered some, but the smallest quantity costs $85. For now, that’s a bit more than I want to spend on something I’ve never tasted.

So I figure, there are lots of products like Soylent already in the market. They just lack the memorable and grody name. They are the diet meal replacements and fitness muscle building products that line the shelves of health food stores, pharmacies, and mega marts. I wanted to try one that had all the protein, fiber, vitamins, and minerals, but lacking Sucralose and maybe containing some other healthy stuff. I settled on trying one called Vega One though there were more cost effective options I may try next.

I brought the tub of vanilla Vega One to the counter. The sales girl who touted its benefits was pleased with my choice. As the gentleman behind the counter nodded in agreement that skipping meals was not good, I went on to explain how several folks had posted online about a new product called Soylent. Indeed he knew the infamous movie Soylent Green and said he even read the original book by Harry Harrison Make Room! Make Room!

I commented that at least Soylent wasn’t made of people in Make Room! Make Room! And that the name made it memorable. He countered with the fact that the name sounded fairly disgusting. I agreed, but started to argue that there was some benefit to being memorable when he seemed to give a let’s-finish-up vibe. I figured I was too chatty and took my receipt. When I turned around there was a small girl, probably about four years old standing behind me clutching her Dad. Oops. Probably best not to mention eating people in front of adorable four-year olds. Thinking I could explain that Soylent was made by people not of people I decided it was best not to call more attention to it. I grabbed my all-vegetarian tub of vanilla Vega One and ducked out.

My family will not be eating powdered meal replacement shakes for Father’s Day dinner. I may stick to veggies myself.

Pumpkin Spice Coffee Creamer

I’m normally more of a tea drinker, but there are times I really enjoy coffee. And this is the time of year for Pumpkin Spice Lattes! One of many reasons to enjoy autumn. Starbucks and other coffee shops have offered a version of this yummy drink for years. Until recently I’d been, pretty much, oblivious to pumpkin spice flavored coffee creamers. I made some of my own pumpkin spice lattes at home by sprinkling pumpkin pie spice into my coffee along with some sweetener and milk. This works OK, but my proportions are inconsistent and the spices always leave a sludge at the bottom of my cup. I am not fond of sludge even if it’s tasty sludge. So while shopping last week, the Pumpkin Spice Nondairy coffee creamers caught my eye. And now I’ve tried both of the major offerings so I though I’d write a little review.

International Delight Pumpkin Pie Spice, Seasonal Edition, Gourmet Coffee Creamer
This was yummy, but not as strongly spicy as I was expecting. I can taste a good bit of nutmeg which skews the flavor a bit into the eggnog range. I love eggnog, but it isn’t what I normally look for in a pumpkin pie spice. I wanted more cinnamon, ginger, and clove or allspice in the flavor combo to really live the pumpkin pie experience. This one contains palm oil which I generally prefer over anything hydrogenated, so that’s a plus. But to be fair, this creamer contains casein which is a dairy product. So while it’s found in the nondairy creamer section of the store, it isn’t truly nondairy. I’m ok with that part, but if you’re dairy free you might want something else.

Nestlé Coffee-mate Pumpkin Spice
This had much more of a pumpkin spice flavor. Possibly a little heavy on the ginger. I could even see how it might have too much spice for a few folks to whom I’d say, “use less if it’s too strong.” But the pumpkin pie spice flavor is there along with the expected sweetness and creaminess of a flavored, nondairy creamer. It was pretty darn yummy. The downside is that it contains hydrogenated or partly hydrogenated oils, and I don’t like that part. I can get over it for the occasional once-in-a-while treat, but would pick something else for a year-round coffee creamer.

Both pumpkin options were basically yummy, added flavor, sweetness, and creaminess to my coffee. Neither one left a spicy sludge at the bottom of my cup. Yay! But both still reminded me of coffee creamer product — not bad, but it might get to me after a while. The consistency of
International Delight Pumpkin Spice was a bit more “natural” than the Coffe-mate if I had to choose. Yet the Coffee-mate had more of a pumpkin pie spice flavor. Both options cost way less per serving than venturing out to Starbucks for a Pumpkin Spice Latte. Overall, will buy again.

The Little Cooker That Could (aka The Little Pot that Could)

For years now I have heard from both moms who work out of the home and those who don’t that slow cookers, or Crock Pots, are da-bomb. But I resisted getting one. I would not be assimilated. My thinking being that I have no room for one of those monstrosities. I already have a pot and a stove, thank you. I don’t usually like boiled chicken, etc. And I like my veg cooked with a bit of firmness left. Call me picky.

Necessity broke me down. Working full-time out of the home (and in) plus having an active kiddo meant we sometimes ate dinner at ridiculous o’clock. We’d be one lesson or meeting away from dinner that was practically bedtime. I hate to have fast food all the time, so I started asking more questions about people’s experience with slow cookers. I looked up a few recipes online and tried them in a pot on the stove instead of a cooker, etc. Not too bad. Maybe worth trying if just for the sake of eating earlier.

I checked out the local thrift store, but for USED Crock Pots that might not even work, their prices are nuts! $20 for USED? I could get a new one for that. I purchased a pair of jeans instead. But when I saw the wee 2-Quart Rival Slow Cooker for about $10 at a local Wally World, I decided it was time to give it a try. Small enough to stow easily in a cabinet and actually fits enough protein for a good dinner plus a small amount of left overs for my little family.

http://www.amazon.com/Rival-Quart-Cooker-Crock-Tempered/dp/B007SYH7VQ/ref=pd_sim_sbs_k_6

http://www.walmart.com/ip/Rival-2-Qt-Slow-Cooker-White/15556579

I could not be happier with this little pot.

I worried a lot about burnt, over-cooked food with such a small pot, or any slow cooker for that matter, but on the low setting this little critter does an excellent job cooking meat or veg all day long. Meat is tender enough to fall off the bone. Veggies aren’t cooked to mush! This part amazed me. Even the lowest flame on my stove would render veg into mush within a few hours. This little pot was really SLOW cooking. It even made yummy broth for soup later. I have been adding at least some water or similar liquid when I leave it all day. It might still burn a dish that is just meat and no liquid or something with a really thick sauce. I’ll have to test those on a weekend.

Result. I am a convert.

We’ve now had Cornish Hen, chicken tacos, pulled BBQ, soup, baked chicken, veg stew, and more!

This morning’s yumminess was steel-cut Irish oats with brown sugar, cinnamon, and gobs of fresh chopped apples. My skinny kiddo is not much of an oatmeal eater, so I had to keep my fingers crossed. But she had three servings. Smallish servings, but this is something! Recipe below.

    Slow Cooker Apples & Oats That My Daughter LIKES

3/4 C. steel-cut Irish oats
2 apples (cored and chopped, peel if you like, I peeled one of ’em)
3 T. brown sugar
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
pinch of salt
2 T. coconut oil
1-1/2 C. water
1/2 C. milk
1/4 tsp. vanilla extract

Spray inside of crock with non-stick cooking spray. Put in apples, dry ingredients, then liquid ingredients. Stir a bit. Turn cooker on Low and cook for 4 to 7 hours. At 4 hours the oats are edible but still quite chewy and the apples are cooked but firm. It’s all a lot more tender at about 7 hours. Stir before serving. This recipe makes fairly thick oats (which didn’t burn, but eventually got a brown crust at the edges). If you like your oats thinner, add more liquid.

We topped with a little extra cinnamon, brown sugar, and a thin pat of butter. Some of us poured milk over the oats too. It was all yummy! I was expecting leftovers, but we had none.

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