BlogOfParadox

I’ve gotten a few requests for the oatcake I made last week. Think of it as the Irish equivalent of cornbread. Think of it as the sacred bread of a goddess-saint. Think of it as breakfast. Think of it as dessert. Think of it on your countertop, steaming defiantly in the face of winter.

Feast for St. Brigidt’s

Makes 12 8 4 servings, if no one goes all reality tv devious while you’ve looked away.

• 1 1/2 cups buttermilk
• 1/2 cup Irish steel-cut oats (McCann’s is straight from County Kildare!)
• 1/2 cup oat flour
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon celtic sea salt
• 2/3 cup sugar
• 2 tablespoons honey or golden syrup (I like Lyle’s)
• 1/4 cup canola oil
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 tablespoon Irish whiskey
• 1 large egg
• Baker’s Joy

Preparation
Combine buttermilk and oats; cover and refrigerate 8 hours. GAH!

Preheat oven to 375° F.

Lightly spoon flours into a dry measuring cup; level with a blade.

Combine flours, baking powder, baking soda, and salt, stirring with a whisk.

Place sugar, honey/syrup and oil in a large bowl; add vanilla, Jameson’s and egg; mix until well blended. Stir in oat mixture; stir until well blended. Add flour mixture, beating just until moist.

Scrape batter into a deep baking pan coated with cooking spray. Bake at 375° F for 30 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool 10 minutes in pan on a wire rack. Devour with local honey and Irish butter.

I posted a photo of my dinner to Twitter last night, and enough people asked about it that I thought I’d post a formula.

My dear husband is a scientist at heart. He does not understand how I can bear to cook without thoroughly documenting results, but I often do. It’s not that I set out to intentionally leave no trace of my exploits, but that I’m so immersed in the experience I don’t want to pull back and analyze the components.

I don’t ever measure anything but the grains and liquid when making risotto, pearled barley or otherwise. I usually use a 1:4 ratio between grain and liquid, because it gives the rice or barley more time to realize its creamiest potential. I use about 1/4 cup of grains per person I’m feeding, and 1/3 cup for folks who don’t eat many vegetables. Everything else is subject to the contents in my pantry, the people who are going to eat it and my mood.

I’m also a risotto heretic: I’m one of those people who will employ a rice cooker if I’m not thrilled by the idea of stirring a pot continuously for 20 minutes or more.  You can even soften onions and garlic in the bottom of a rice cooker,  then steam vegetables or meat on top if you have a steamer insert. Fortune favors the bold.

Use olive oil, butter or your favorite fat to coat the pan’s bottom.

Add a handful of finely chopped aromatics (onions, shallots, leeks, spicy seeds,  garlic) and let them fizzle in the oil until soft. Add barley and stir.

Let the mixture toast for a minute or two, because it imparts a subtle flavor to the dish.

Add your liquid. You can add a little wine to your stock if you like. Some are sticklers and insist you have to be a slave to the pot, adding liquid as it goes. If I want a moving meditation, I do that, but if I’m just damned hungry and want some creamy grains, I just pour all the liquid into the rice cooker and walk away to work on the accompaniments.

I chopped a large fennel bulb into small pleasing shapes and sauteed it with just a scant bit of olive oil. Toward the end, I added fennel seed to toast in the pan. You can do this with any vegetable, though: I love pumpkin or a similar squash, carmelized with sage. Shredded Brussels Sprouts in bacon grease would be an excellent choice as well.

Your grains will be ready for plating when they’re tender and resemble a thick porridge. It’s best not to rely on the rice cooker (because it will try and cook away all the liquid), but if you lose track of time, you can just add a bit more stock and keep an eye on it. If you like your risotto extra creamy, you can stir in a little cream, sour cream, creme fraiche, ricotta  or yogurt at this point.

Finishing elements are important, and transform risotto from a gruel-like deceiver to a elegant dinner party. I commonly stir in nutmeg, cracked pepper and parmesan cheese, though I’ll often use brewer’s yeast as a parm replacement if I have a vegan guest. Lemon zest is a gorgeous topper, as well. If I’m feeling very lazy, I stir in spinach or arugula so I don’t have to fuss with a salad.

I make a bed of vegetables for the risotto, then pile it on.  I’ll often top with toasted nuts, more cheese and nutmeg. Last night, I chopped fennel fronds to feather across the top, providing beauty and an anise bite.

This article originally ran in the November 12 issue of the Jackson Free Press.

Tony's Tamales never skimps on the spice.

It’s 6 o’clock on a Wednesday evening, and a steady stream of cars is queued at the drive-up window at Tony’s Tamales. Robert Mosley is leaning over a microphone, running the register and taking customers’ orders in rapid-fire. His wife, Pat, is eavesdropping and already in motion, packing the orders faster than he can call them back.

“I love to run him into the ground,” she tells me in an exaggerated whisper, her face splitting into a mischievous grin. Robert shakes his head as he takes the bag, his eyes twinkling. He barely has time to take the bag before the bell chimes again, signaling another customer’s arrival.

It’s been 28 years since Robert made his first batch of tamales—around 15 dozen—in the Mosley’s home kitchen. The Greenville native was out of work, and turned to his hometown favorite method of pulling in cash: tamales.

“This trade is self-taught,” he says.

While he did turn to life-long friend and Greenville native Arthur Rankin for initial advice, he honed his skills and recipe through trial and error. He made the first tamales by hand in the Mosley home kitchen, plying friends and neighbors with tamales in exchange for feedback. He opened his first tamale stand, hauling tamales to the appropriately named Delta Drive (now Medgar Evers Boulevard). He named the business after his brother Tony because “Robert’s Tamales” didn’t roll off the tongue.

As the business grew, Tony’s expanded by necessity to a location with its own kitchen on Livingston Road: The Mosley home kitchens appliances had worn out, giving their lives in service to hungry Jacksonians. Eventually, Pat left her career in the medical profession to join Robert in the kitchen.

Mosley’s recipe changed with the times, but there are some things Robert wasn’t willing to sacrifice. “We started out with beef, but from day one, we always wanted to make a healthy product. A lot more people are health conscious now, and the turkey’s a clean meat, not a lot of fat. What we don’t do is cut back on the spices and seasoning. When you make tamales, you know what’s missing. We’ve never cut back on the spices, never tried to cut corners on ingredients. Once you get to cutting here, cutting there; you lose the original flavor.”

Today, they have two locations in Jackson: 230 West Woodrow Wilson Ave. and 228 E. Capitol St. They get a great many mail orders for tamales—especially around the holidays when folks are homesick—and are hoping to expand into wholesale ventures. On the weeks they roll tamales, they produce 600 to 800 dozen, freezing them until they’re needed. Pat insists the freezing process allows the tamales to stay as fresh as possible while allowing the flavors to mature.

“If you can’t eat them here, buy them frozen and steam them at home: it’s as close to fresh as you’ll get,” she says. When she opens the freezer to show me their stores, the heavenly aroma causes my knees to buckle. For a fleeting moment, I want to curl up inside a working deep-freeze.

I confess I’d never eaten a tamale before moving to Mississippi, and Tony’s are my first love. Tony’s Tamales is a Jackson institution, and some of our favorite tamales, on or off the trail. In addition to their mightily spiced tamales, they also have a beautifully balanced gumbo, excellent dumplings and homemade cakes.

Tony’s began making vegetarian black-bean tamales in 2002, and Robert is investigating making a tamale with soy or other textured vegetable protein. For those of you who eat strictly local/organic meat or hunt for the meat you eat, don’t despair. Robert will gladly make tamales out of your processed meat. He’s made tamales out of duck, black bear, elk and venison meat, and wants the world to know he’s interested in making some wild boar tamales one day.

While Robert is wry and understated, Pat is obviously the public-relations end of the partnership. She is tireless, chatting up customers and dispensing advice at the drive-through window. In between customers, she tells me: “I didn’t know what a tamale was until I met him, he’s the tamale man. But now, I can tell you almost everything there is to know about tamales.”

I tell Pat a little about what I learned about traditional Mexican tamales before this endeavor. When I tell her about the Mexican superstition that says tamales need music or they won’t cook to fluffy perfection, she breaks in with great authority: “Well, I don’t know what kind of music those Mexican grannies play, but here in Mississippi we play the blues for our tamales.”

Our friend and Capoeira instructor, Officer Ivory Harris, is with the Jackson Police Department, 3rd Precinct.  His apartment caught fire several days ago through a faulty electrical outlet and he lost everything, including his beloved Teacup Chihuahua,  BeeGee.  Officer Harris not only protects the City of Jackson but he donates his time and energy to teach the art of Capoeira to others as well as troubled youth.  We would like to rally some support for this great public servant in the donation of funds.  Officer Harris lost clothes, furniture, and his laptop computer; everything except some important paperwork secured in a corner closet in a fire box.

You are also invited to attend a Capoeira Roda in honor of Ivory Harris on October 3, 2009 at 4035 B North State Street!  Look for the Balloons.  Parking in the rear of the house or about 3 blocks down at the corner of Meadowbrook and State Street.  Event starts at 5:00 p.m. until.  Bring Food, Drinks and your checkbook!

Please send your donation to:

Officer Ivory Harris Fire Fund
c/o Renee Dean
P. O. Box 12833
Jackson, MS 39236
601 624-6542

I haven’t been blogging much, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing.

My first food column ran yesterday in the Jackson Free Press. It’s called Salad Days: Avoiding Lettuce Burnout, and includes recipes for a deconstructed pesto salad and a cookout-friendly Grilled Caesar.

If you’re so inclined, please login and leave feedback!

I’m not big on posting lots of videos, but this one has made my week. It reminds me of all the best about Buffy Summers, and why even a passing glance at Twilight is all, y’know, like GAG ME. Contrasted with Whedon’s Buffy, Edward’s creepiness outshines even his sparkliness.

Buffy’s not perfect (one of Whedon’s strengths), but when it comes to fictitious role models, I wish my sister had more Buffy Summers and less Bella Swans.

This is my third year volunteering with the Chick Ball. I have a lot of reasons why I volunteer, but the most important reason is because I have seen too many wonderful people beaten and emotionally decimated by loved ones. I’ve heard too many excuses from strong, brilliant people about why their parent, sibling or partner is justified in treating them abominably.

It’s an easy thing to say, “The first time a man hits me, I’m out the door.” It’s an automatic, brainless and rational reaction to the idea of violence, but it does not encompass all the factors that can influence a situation: children, pets, finances, vows, shame, pride, fear and love.  It doesn’t take into account the gradual whittling away of self-worth that usually precludes a violent act. The hard-and-fast rule we’re taught doesn’t account for an abuser’s remorse, apologies or promises.

We often focus on the families and aftermath of abuse. This year, the Chick Ball is raising money to help fund an intervention program (the first of its kind in Jackson) to work with abusers who want to make good on their promises of “never again.” Personal change and growth is rough, but it’s doable, especially with help. Studies have shown 15 percent of those who completed an abuse intervention program were rearrested for domestic violence, compared with 37 percent of those who dropped out of the program.

All seriousness aside, the Chick Ball is hugely fun without diminishing the gravity of the issue at hand.  We need volunteers in all aspects of planning and execution of the event, and you meet amazing, motivated, formidable women. If you can’t volunteer, please consider donating artwork or goods for door prizes and silent auction pieces, or even sponsorship ($50 is our base level of sponsorship.) Above all, just come and enjoy the fruits of our hard work.

2009 Chick Ball Poster (please print and distribute!)

2009 Chick Ball Sponsorship Sheet

And feel free to repost this little press release anywhere you like!

SATURDAY, July 25, 2009

6 p.m. to 1 a.m.

Hal & Mal’s Red Room

WHAT:

The Jackson Free Press will present its 5th Annual JFP Chick Ball, an affordable night of music, art, spoken word and performance that has raised thousands of dollars in the last two years to honor the Center for Violence Prevention. All proceeds from the door, art auction and direct donations will be presented to the center following the event. Sign up for our Twitter feed @jfpchickball so you don’t miss anything.

This year, the event will be bigger than ever, with dozens of businesses and artists in and around Jackson donating door prizes and artwork for the art auction. Our cause is more ambitious as well: instead of concentrating on the aftermath, we’re going for the root of the problem. We’re looking to raise some of the initial funding for a program to help abusers stop being abusers. This will be the only domestic abuse intervention program of its kind in and around Jackson.

Specifics: Learn more about the Duluth Model, the most replicated woman abuse intervention model in the country.

WHO:

The line-up of female musical, visual and performance artists is headlined every year by a diverse group of women. We’ll be sure to make a big announcement when the lineup is finalized.

WHEN:

Saturday, July 25th, 6 p.m. Admission is only $5 – and only $10 to get your chance at a door prize.

WHERE:

Hal and Mal’s Red Room

WHY:

Because we want to help the CVP works for their important cause – putting a stop to domestic violence in our community.

Sponsorships Available:

• Diva – $2,500+
• Goddess – $1,000
• Queen – $500
• Princess – $250
• Chick/Rooster – $50

Call 601.362.6121 ext. 2, or e-mail chickball@jacksonfreepress.com with questions about volunteering, sponsorships and donations for silent auction.

RIP Zorro Zeta

I’ve been trying to write about this since I got the news on Monday, but it’s been too hard.

Wee, sweet Zeta was sickly last week; stopped nursing, and had to be bottle-fed by her tireless foster family. They thought she’d gotten past the worst of it, but she was just too tiny and sickly. She died over the weekend. Zeta was a beautiful, sweet-natured kittenface, who was content to snuggle against your chest and sleep, preferably with a sibling or two nestled around her.

Pragmatically speaking, it’s a small miracle the other wallkitties are flourishing at all, after their hard start. Personally, though, they were ALL MY Wallkitties in a way; and I’m angry and heartbroken she had such a short life. I’m just glad it was filled with love from all over the place, even the Internet.

Thank you.

On May 2nd, I turn thirty-six. I’m not upset or mopey about it. Honestly, it feels more like turning twelve because ZOMG, we are getting two, count ‘em, two wall-kitties for my birthday.

KITTIES!!! are by far one of the cooler birthday presents I’ve received, but to be honest, I’m not so big on stuff these days. I’m trying to pare down, scale back and simplify my life; stuff holds me back. I’d much rather have your company for birthday weekend festivities.

If you are the sort of person who would normally get me a present, please instead consider donating to In Defense of Animals’ PROJECT HOPE, the organization who helped us in the aftermath of WallCat rescue. Hope Sanctuary is an animal sanctuary located in rural Mississippi. Doll Stanley and her staff/volunteers have doggedly worked to rescue abused and neglected animals in Mississippi and all over the Deep South for sixteen years. LeeAnn Leonard is one of the foster/rescue volunteers with Project Hope, and the foster human to the WallCats and their surrogate mama, Hemi. If it wasn’t for LeeAnn and IDA, this story might not have such a happy ending. I’m not 100% behind IDA’s mission, but Project Hope is a great cause in a state that could use five more sanctuaries.

Here’s a link to IDA’s program-specific donation page. There’s a dropdown menu for “Project or Campaign”: please select PROJECT HOPE.

If you’re more visually inclined, please enlarge the image below.

Of course, you could always adopt Hemi or Wall-Kitty Zeta, which would be a gift for everyone!

Hemi is a gorgeous shorthaired, polydactyl blue-grey MILA (Mom I’d Like to Adopt). She was rescued via In Defense of Animals, and soon gave birth to a single kitten, Junior. Hemi must’ve had a larger family in mind because she accepted each and every wallcat as her own, and has been fiercely protective of her litter. If you love Hemingway cats and are interested in an adult cat with a touch of old Hollywood beauty, Hemi would be an excellent choice.  Her IDA adoption fees ($75) will cover her shots and her spaying.