Category Archives: One bowl meals
Recipe: Holy Grail Pasta Vite Vite Vite
I am on a quest.
Having realized my goal of locating several pleasingly dry, sparkling wines under $20 (Gruet and virtually anything with a Crément de appellation, among others), I need a new goal, but not just any goal. No search for a suitably stinging riposte to French taunting, or source for perfectly ripe avocados every time, not even a low carb cookie that tastes like it was made from something other than the mixing bowl dregs of a Costco “bakery” will do. Nothing as mundane as that. I need a mountain to climb, a fortress to take, a fountain of youth to discover and turn into an early retirement account. And I think I’ve found one.
What I’m searching for is a small collection of nutritionally complete, tasty one-bowl meals that can be prepared and served in 20 minutes or less, in one pot, then cleaned up in five minutes. The recipe doesn’t have to be elaborate, or exotic, just pleasing to the palate, easy on the waistline and unlikely to induce vomiting.
Meet my new best friend, the roasted almond. This has replaced my old best friend, Mr. Chocolate Croissant, as well as his often-present bestie, Mr. Eggs Benedict, at the breakfast table, and while I cannot say I don’t miss the dynamic duo, I am at least getting by with the replacement.
Having recently sent the bathroom scale into hyperdrive, I am, as you may recall, walking a straighter path dietically speaking. It’s either that or replace an entire, carefully-curated summer wardrobe with items from the tactfully-named “Women’s” department at Bloomingdales, a prospect so horrifying that giving cinnamon toast a pass pales in comparison.
In the not-too-distant past, I have railed against Campbell’s condensed soups, in particular the cream of mushroom and cream of celery varieties that are commonly substituted for béchamel sauce in casserole recipes across this vast and blessed land. On several occasions I’ve also remarked on the puzzling consumption of Velveeta cheese, for which I inevitably receive a handful of responses extolling its virtues, but let’s leave that for the nonce. People like what they like and the palate is a mysterious organ. How else to explain the existence of head cheese? Witness the recipe:
To make head cheese, clean the hog’s head by removing the snout, eyes, ears, brains and all the skin. Trim away all the fat from the head and cut it into four pieces. Place in a crock or enamel container. Cover with a solution of 1/2-cup canning salt to 1-gallon water. Make sure the pieces are completely covered. Let it soak for 5-hours to draw out all the blood…
There’s more, but I can’t bear to go into it. At least they remove the snout, though it’s unclear to me whether it gets tossed out or thrown in the crock. Anyways, you get the idea. Different streaks for different freaks, as they say.
Traveling hindered me from posting a gluttonous recipe last week, but we’re back on schedule this week with a healthier alternative of that old favorite Mac & Cheese. As with any mac & cheese recipe this one couldn’t be simpler: prepare a few items, toss em all in a pot, and stir. However, it’s the subtle nuances of herbs, the slight amount of heat from cayenne, and the combination of Montegrappa cheese* and roasted butternut squash that sets this mac & cheese recipe apart anything out of a box.
Read more and get the recipe.
Note from KS: In addition to providing all manner of sporty updates, the Sports Glutton is a serious cook! This recipe takes mac and cheese to new and previously un-dreamt of heights. The instructions are clear and easy to follow. If you’re pressed for time, you could substitute frozen squash, but really fresh is so much better. Ideal for a company meal or a kitchen supper. Well done, Glutton!
Turkey vegetable chili: One bowl fits all.
Feeding my household is challenging at best. I am the only mammal eater, so there’s no upside to making beef or pork. In fact it’s come to the point where I have to take my steak or burger into another room to spare my loved ones the traumatizing smell of charred, formerly sentient flesh. Salt and cheese are off the menu owing to Mr. Slattern’s health concerns, the apple of my eye dislikes potatoes, I’m trying to avoid pasta and bread, and serving beans more than once a week would be, gastrically speaking, unfortunate on an Old Testament scale. Let’s just leave it at that.
So it’s fish or chicken or turkey or fish most nights, except on omelette night, or in the event of a sit down strike, which in my house is shorthand for I’m sick of cooking, out of ideas and borrowing patience, so unless you’re prepared to have cereal (and in my case, vodka) for dinner — yes, again — we’d best go out.