Stuffed Artichokes: Part 2

It all has to go sideways sometimes, right?

Oh, friends. It was not my fault. Well, actually it was my fault. But I didn’t realize that until I was well into writing this. More on that in a moment.

“Prep Time: 15 Minutes”

Have you ever cleaned and trimmed an artichoke? There was no mention of such in the recipe, but I invite anyone with lots (like, tons) of free time to stuff an un-trimmed artichoke. It’s possible, but will certainly take more time than just trimming the damn thing. Unless you’re wearing oyster gloves, and if so then I’m going to really doubt you’d have enough dexterity. Also, I’m really going to doubt you’re wearing oyster gloves.

“15 minutes” is crazy talk.

Next up is the ingredient list. I’m guessing that most people (including me) give a recipe a quick skim first to estimate time suck and expense. This one doesn’t look too bad. Eight ingredients. But the eagle-eyed reader will see that one of those ingredients is “Essence” which is defined on the next page as a combination of eight spices. Unless you keep a stocked spice rack, that’s going to double up your cost.

Also on the list is “4 artichokes, boiled until tender and cleaned free of the choke.”

I didn’t see it. My bad. Totally. But really, shouldn’t all the cooking process be in the instructions? So not all my bad. I thought it was hugely weird to bake artichokes without steaming or boiling them, but I’m not about to second-guess Emeril. The whole point of this exercise is that I’m making recipes that are foreign to me. Also, there’s no way boiling and cleaning out the choke is included in the time estimate. Rrrrrr.

Finally, made as intructed, the stuffing comes out gritty (even after adding more oil and cheese). The cayenne gives it an unpleasant sting rather than a pleasant heat making for an overall effect of eating hot sand.

It all started out so well.

The sad journey those artichokes went on, though, was sink –> counter –> oven –> trash.

Recipe #7: Stuffed artichokes from FoodNetwork.

Almost a Year

The first anniversary of my Dad’s death looms right around the corner,  helpfully positioned near Father’s Day just in case I forget.

Days go by now when I don’t think about him. No other way to function, to be sure. For months I stayed hung up on the question, “Where is my Dad?” Literally, not philosophically or spiritually. I could not accept, couldn’t even understand, that he ceased to BE. I still don’t understand that, but it just makes me feel sad rather than freaked out — because now I do accept that there’s nothing I can do about it.

I usually solve my problems by just whaling away at them until something gives. But this. There’s just nothing I can do about it.

Parenting Tip: Document the Fit

Elliot is a crier. He is, to be fair, also a laugher. But man, the crying.

He was mad about something last night. Life. Anthony Weiner. Out of Goldfish. I don’t know.

Damon decided to tease him emphathize through imitation and, on impulse, I snapped a quick picture of them with my phone.

And then, when I turned the phone around to show Elliot his own crying face. Silence. Fascination. Instant genial curiosity.

I feel this trick will have diminishing returns, so I’m going to save it for the help-me-Baby-Jesus moments.

Sunday Dinner: Stuffed Artichokes

My absolute favorite food. When I was little my Mom bribed me to take medicine with an offer of a stuffed artichoke.

That was around the time I used to fantasize that if I were some kind of royalty I could have someone on hand at all times with warm, freshly-cooked artichoke hearts, lightly sprinkled with salt. (NB: A fresh heart is nothing remotely like the canned variety.)

I have only eaten whole artichokes two ways. Stuffed with seasoned breading and cheese and then baked or steamed plain with lemon butter or mayonnaise for dipping. Both are so delicious that I don’t have any explanation as to why we don’t eat them more.

This recipe is different. The artichoke is boiled. The stuffing isn’t cooked. I had two issues with it, one my fault. I overcooked the artichoke. It was blissfully easy to fan out the leaves and scoop out the choke, but the heart was a little mushy. Disappointing. The second issue is that it seemed kind of like a “lite” stuffed artichoke. The stuffing quantity was enough to sprinkle through the leaves, not pack to overflowing. It also had a kind of bread salad quality to it. Tasty enough, but more garnish-y than hearty. That may really be a matter of taste, but I can’t get over my long history of stuffed artichokes done a certain way.

I’d like to find a version that comes closer to my Mom’s traditional recipe, with maybe just a hair lighter touch. It’s hard to improve on the best thing that’s ever come out of her kitchen. She will tell you the best thing is her meatballs, and everyone who knows us will probably agree with her. We’ll be able test both things, as there’s one more stuffed artichoke recipe (much more familiar to me) and also a hand-written interpretation of Mom’s meatballs in my Dad’s folder.

I want to do the alternative artichoke recipe soon. Alden actually took a shot at a few leaves, which is encouraging.

Recipe #6: Stuffed Artichokes from FoodNetwork.

Get It?

Lemon’s account of her kids’ jokes made me wonder if I could teach one to Alden.

Jillian: Hey Alden, why did the lion spit out the clown?
Alden: I don’t know.
Jillian: Ask my why.
Alden: Why?
Jillian: Because he tasted funny!

Then I told him to tell it back to me.

Alden: Mommy, why did the lion spit out the monkey?
Jillian: Why?
Alden: Because he was hurting the monkey [sad face]

Alden, monkey fan