Making the Most of Your Groceries

Because rotten tomatoes are only helpful in a movie review context.

There's that stereotype that college kids are so messy or lazy or whatever that they live in a ever-growing pile of dirty laundry and rotten food. While probably true of some, this is mostly an unfair generalization. 

But that doesn't mean that we don't end up buying food that goes bad before we can use it. 

Our friend Orangina asked for our input. Since grocery shopping is actually something we're usually good at, I'll oblige. But check out our upcoming "Empty Fridge Chronicles" to see what happens when things go wrong.

Chicken and Broccoli Over A TON of Rice

Chicken and Broccoli: simple and delicious.
We're still no good at taking pictures of food.

Stir frying is the seminal collegiate cooking technique. All you do is throw vegetation and maybe some meat in a pan. Thing is, warm vegetables over rice, or warm vegetables soaked in soy sauce over rice, can get old. Bean and I decided to venture out into some uncharted territory.

In the Madison County Price Chopper, there is an aisle labeled 'MEXICAN.' In this aisle, there is a section called 'RICE.' In this section, there is very little rice, but there are lots of bottles and jars full of things like Szechuan sauce, Thai Chile paste, water chestnuts, and those weird little corns.

Inspired, we decided to attempt a version of Chicken and Broccoli.

"Guilt-Free" Homemade Potato Chips

Okay, to be clear, these potato chips are exactly as fatty and unhealthy as almost any other chip. They are only "guilt-free" because they're made by you and not a factory. But it's okay. You were going to eat them anyway, and at least these don't have chemicals.

Remember that time that Bean and I made potatoes? Well, we didn't either. So we had a giant bag of leftover potatoes that had been sitting around for we're not sure how long.

They looked kind a funky and felt distinctly soft.
So obviously, all systems go.

The only logical option to make snacks.

Nug Gets Exotic with Super Food

Pasta with swiss chard, white beans, and walnuts.
Weird or worth eating?
Questions answered below!

I've been reflecting on my college experience and I've come to this conclusion: juniors compare family recipes like freshman compare regional accents. Thankfully, junior year epiphanies go beyond "huh, that's weird," and are the key to broadening your culinary horizons, expanding your recipe repertoire, and opening doors to newfound realms of tastiness.

It even looks like alien food. 

Case in point, swiss chard.

Until Bean and I started cooking together, swiss chard was something that happened on Food Network. But in the Bean household, it's standard fare.



Bean introduced me to swiss chard through Spaghetti with Swiss Chard, White Beans, and Walnuts. However, the Pasta + Beans + Greens formula can be adapted to fit the contents of any pantry.

Don't like white beans? How about black beans or chickpeas? Less exotic greens you could try? Bean says kale, spinach, and escarole.

So, spinach, right guys? Because I don't know what the other two taste like either. But you should try swiss chard because it's both Christmas-colored and delicious.

Regardless, you have garlic and red pepper flakes to make things as tasty and spicy as you want. The possibilities are endless. And you're combining all of the super foods. Get crazy with it.

Manicotti: Italian for Sleeves, Nugspeak for Home

Some weeks at college, you just really want to go home.

Sometimes just I want to be a baby with
a snuggy and manicotti. 

Maybe you have seven papers in as many days or your roommate gave you fleas, but for me it's usually when 1) I'm sick, or 2) the dining hall was especially depressing.

My solution -- manicotti. Just saying "manicotti" conjures up memories of birthdays and holidays filled with cheesy, saucy goodness.

For those of you not familiar with manicotti, it's basically a lasagna burrito. That sounds super gross, so I'll just explain.

Pizza Pizzazz

    

Blog readers, I have a confession to make: we have been holding out on you. I know you thought that we faithfully updated you on all our culinary adventures, and days we didn't post were days (or weeks) when we simply did not eat. But the truth is, we've been hiding an important part of our diet from you: the over-abundance of pizza.

The pizza that started it all.

In all its crappy cell phone photo glory.

It was a delicious homemade pizza that first prompted Domsicle to suggest that we start a blog. Since then, it has been one of our most reliable standbys. Now that we've developed a relationship of trust with you, blog readers, we're ready to share.

Weekday Breakfast: Make it Portable

The perfect A.M. sustenance.

If breakfast is the most important meal of the day, I am screwed. I never wake up early enough, so my body is lucky if it gets a handful of dry Cheerios on my way out the door. Breakfast bars would be a good option, but they're expensive.

And they're not a "balanced breakfast" either. For that, you need three different beverages, pancakes, eggs, cereal, fruit, bats, orangutans -- it's not going to happen for a college student on the go.

Bean and I stumbled on the solution: the Banana Oatmeal Cups from GreenLite Bites. We've been calling them Breakfast Bites, and they have revolutionized our breakfast experience. By which I mean, I now eat breakfast.

Real College Students Eat Quiche

Bean and I are class acts.

You might be thinking there's no way I could pull off something as fancy as quiche. It's French. People question its masculinity. It's got that weird Q thing going on.

If your thinking ends there, you've probably only experienced quiche in some shmancy cafe, or you've had one of those curdled little Starbucks nightmares. Which is a shame, because there is nothing as lusciously cheesy and satisfying as homemade quiche.  

Come on. If sleepy Nuggets can do it, anyone can.

Maple and Brown Sugar Squash

Photo Credit: Nugget. I wish I were as cool as she is.
Look at the artistry.

Blog readers, October has begun. And you all know what that means - midterms. Last week was a crazy whirl of schoolwork. Nugget kept me alive by making most of our meals (hooray for dinner buddies!), but I was completely useless.

However, there was one recipe that I was able to manage: acorn squash with brown sugar and maple syrup. This meal was always a favorite of my dad's, so I knew I wanted to make it at least once this fall. I know we've thrown a lot of squash at you on this blog, but if you're not convinced yet, this recipe WILL make you a believer!

It takes 5 minutes to prepare, and sits innocently in the oven for an hour while you study. When it's done, it's delicious, filling, perfectly portioned, and fun to eat! Not to mention, it belongs to that noble, hallowed group of recipes that make vegetables taste like dessert. What more could a college student ask for?

Be Your Own Dining Hall: Make Breakfast

Bet you didn't know it was a literary reference.

Confession: I miss the myth of the dining hall breakfast. You were out late the night before, it's about 11:30 AM, you've gathered enough consciousness to form thoughts, and your first thought is breakfast. Which is fine because you live three feet from an endless supply of Belgian waffles.

Why is it a myth, you ask?

Because there's a huge difference between expectation and reality.

Here's the expectation:

Magic. Honeydukes level magic.

But reality bears a way bigger resemblance to this:

I'm sure he's a very nice man.

This weekend, however, Bean, Grape and I decided to attempt to close that gap and make our very own ultimate college breakfast. 

None of the Parents, All of the Pie

Blog readers, I know you've all been wondering what classically American dessert Bean and I could have possibly concocted. Or, you know, maybe not because there's really only one.

That's right, everyone. It's time for Apple Pie a la Nug and Bean.

Writing a blog post has never made me so nostalgic for last week.

We had been looking forward to making this pie with our buddies Domsicle and Grape ever since Bean went apple picking, and we were counting on it to be a bright spot in a difficult day. It needed to be perfect, and epitomize all that is good about America in general. With this in mind, we proceeded with our usual slap-shod approach to doing things.

Americana Part 1: Mac and Cheese

Last weekend was a marathon of one of college eating's most essential staples: free food. And (as often happens on weekends when normal routines are broken) when free food was not available, Nugget simply forgot to eat. As a result, we don't have too many cooking adventures to share with you from the last few days. We did, however, kick the weekend off with a dinner party with Domsicle and Grape (the younger-sister-formally-known-as-Grace) on Friday night, which resulted in some truly delicious discoveries. Nugget is going to blog about the super-exciting dessert we made that night (cliffhanger!), but in the meantime, I would like to present:

Broccoli and White Cheddar Mac and Cheese (aka one of our new favorite recipes).

Guess Who's Coming to Brinner

 

with

I'm sensing a theme on SGDF. Bean always looks normal and I smile like a serial killer.

Yesterday evening, after going to a lecture given by Alexandra Fuller, Bean, NutMeg and Sassafrass (NutMeg's roommate) and I met up for that holy meal known as brinner, or, less succinctly, breakfast-for-dinner.

Let the Record Show:

If this post sounds at all odd to you at any point (I mean more than usual, wise guys), bear in mind that last night I totally won Library Chicken. I'm running on about 3.5 hours of sleep and the ever-satisfying thrill of victory.

Library Chicken and College Snack Time

Tonight, Nugget and I are playing a game we call "Library Chicken"-- neither us can leave Case-Geyer Library until the other one does. It is a truly heroic test of will, academic attention span, and caffeine intake. Strategic breaks are key to my long-term strategy to defeat Nugget in this epic contest, so instead of continuing to read about Freud and Einstein, I thought I'd pause to share some miscellaneous thoughts on the miscellaneous college meal: snacks!

Last weekend, I went with Colgate's Newman Community to an apple orchard called Beak & Skiff for a day of apple picking and general frolicking. The day brought to mind childhood memories, falling leaves, and all that is good about Central New York. After our rather disappointing dinner on Tuesday night, we turned to the bounty I had brought home to redeem the evening, making ourselves a study break snack of apples, maple candy, and apple cider.

In my mind, this is an example of all the best qualities of food; like pitzelles and hot chocolate at Christmas or pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving, apple and maple are flavors I look forward to all year. They create a special moment out of a particular time of year, and lend themselves to some pretty snazzy food photography.

Norman Rockwell wishes he had painted this
almost as much as you wish you were eating it.

However, on a night like tonight (aka most nights), snacks don't reach this level of perfection. Instead, they are generally pure junk that serves to fill the void that sleep leaves behind.

Here's what our fuel for Library Chicken has been:

If Martha Stewart is the champion of the classy snack, then tonight we are following the lead of another Food Philosophy Icon: Louis CK.

Ok, so that's not the best advice to post on a food blog.

What can we say? Smart girls love dumb food.

P.S. I am totally going to win Library Chicken. Emma is quickly descending into a delusional state.

We Shop Badly, But Make Some Mean Rapini

In many respects, yesterday was a no good, dirty rotten, very bad day for me and Bean. But mostly for me. There are many dangers specific to college life, but perhaps none so insidious as sleep deprivation. I'm honestly not sure if that is the true root of my series of failures today, but it's my go-to-scapegoat.

Allow me a brief anecdote to illustrate the pervasiveness of today's theme: my shirt was inside out all day and I didn't notice. In this day and age it's hard to tell a seam from a stylish accent, but I've never heard of a stylish accent tag.

But to be honest, today's real villain isn't lack of sleep. It's Price Chopper. Specifically, whoever is in charge of designing their packaging. Here's what I have to say to them:

Spice Up Your Life!

Look what we got! Bean and I are officially spice girls.

I know what joie de vivre smells like: this box.

Massive strides have been made in the war on blandness. Our friend, Chef Spaetzle (an actual chef), recently rocked our world by sending us a myriad of spices. We now own things I have never heard of. And I thought sumac was a tree. Whatever it is, it smells awesome.

Overwhelmed by the plethora of potential flavor, we decided we had to make a pyramid.

This package fixed a major problem in our lives. In addition to being constantly cramped for time and funds, there's a lot of stuff that we just don't have. Stuff that makes the culinary world go round. Prior to our spices' arrival, Bean had a stressful dream about thinking that every recipe in the world called for cumin.

Adult readers (if you exist), take pity on your college-aged relations. They're probably living like the Europeans did before the Silk Road -- vaguely unsatisfied and confusing 'salty' with 'delicious.' Rather than that iTunes gift card, this Christmas give the gift that keeps on giving: a spice rack with all the essentials. It'll stop them from plotting to shanghai their roommates and sail off in search of the Northwest Passage.

Thanks for broadening our culinary horizons, Spaetzle.

Nugget and Bean Make a Big Italian Mess

Hey there, blog readers! Today was an exciting day in the land of Nugget and Bean. The interest house where I live (and Nugget pretends to live) has organized a food co-op for Monday night dinners this semester, and this was our day to cook for everyone. Unfortunately, we also had a Writing Center staff meeting that didn't end until 5:15 PM, leaving us with a serious time crunch.

So of course, we decided to attempt a full Italian dinner: chicken parmesan, eggplant parmesan, tomato sauce, pasta, garden salad, and sauteed broccoli rabe. There was no other logical option. And by "there was no other logical option," I clearly mean, "Nugget and Nutmeg both came up with a million simple and delicious suggestions, and I somehow managed to talk Nugget into this one."

It was either this, or try to take over the world again.

The Squash Chronicles Continue

2) SPAGHETTI SQUASH WITH ROASTED BRUSSELS SPROUTS AND CHICKPEAS

Nug makes a breakthrough in food photography. So classy!

We were hoping that this recipe would restore our faith in squashdom and it totally did. We got the recipe from FatFree Vegan Kitchen, and if every recipe on that site manages to be this tasty, it's going to earn a position among my favorites.

Elements of Excellence:

1) Brussels sprouts. I genuinely wish these had been a tangible, edible part of my childhood. They are not the harbingers of nastiness that popular culture makes them out to be.

2) Basil. The recipe calls for dried basil, but we didn't have that. We did, however, have some fresh basil that is miraculously still living in a glass of water on my window sill. We chiffonaded (yeah, I really wanted to use that word again) it up and sprinkled it on top of the dish.


3) Sheer volume. Spaghetti squash is the Mary Poppins carpet bag of the vegetable world. You start scraping with a fork, it starts coming off in shreds, and it just won't stop. Yay leftovers!

4) Homeyness. I can picture eating this dish out of a bowl in front of a fireplace. This is unlikely to happen for me though, because Colgate bricked up all the fireplaces on campus. It's like they think we shouldn't be in charge of fire or something.

Cooking Method 1
I was trying to smile and not to burn myself.
Multitasking is not my strong suit.

What We Learned:

1) Bean's stomach waits for no one. Seriously, for someone with an enormous attention span for academia, she's like a bored kid during a long car ride in the kitchen.

2) This led to a more useful discovery: spaghetti squash is a very forgiving vegetable. When roasting proved to be too slow, we moved to the microwave with no ill effects (as far as we could tell).

3) Like most new 'chefs' we have absolutely no sense of timing.

Cooking Method 2

4) This is an incredibly forgiving recipe. Everything stayed warm enough and retained enough structural integrity that when we finally put it all in the wok, it came together as if we had timed everything properly.

5) Brussels sprouts aren't spelled "brussel sprouts."



Cautionary Tale of the Day:

No. Wrong. Bad.

This actually happened during our first squash meal, but let's go over it now. You are making pasta. Your house's only wooden spoon is a glorified tongue depressor, so you're using a metal spoon.

 Do you A) rest it on top of the open pot of boiling water? Or B) put it absolutely anywhere else?

If you answered A, you're dumb because steam is hotter than boiling water, and metal is a conductor. You are, however, in good company. Try not to curse too much when you leave important pieces of your flesh behind on the spoon.

Squash on Squash on Squash Part 1

Hamilton (the town that Colgate is in) has an amazing farmer's market every Saturday, and last week Bean and I got a little crazy with the squash. To use up our preponderance of squash, we decided to try two new recipes in which squash plays the starring role.

1) PASTA WITH ACORN SQUASH AND PANCETTA

We are both big fans of acorn squash and figured that this recipe sounded and looked pretty tasty, and that the marriage of acorn squash (which we both believe is truly maple syrup's soulmate) and pancetta was intriguing.

What Worked:

If it looks like this, it's not crispy enough.
You want those babies brown, trust us.

The pancetta. It's the bomb. I am continually amazed by the amount of 'exotic' food that Price Chopper has. The sliced pancetta we got there was so handy. We just rendered the crap out of it.


What Didn't:

To be honest, almost everything else. The first mistake was totally on us. We overcooked the squash a little bit.

These are too crispy.
However, with some more oil and maybe some salt,
 we think they would make great "french fries."

After that though, I call shenanigans. First of all, the original blog image shows the squash holding itself together, being friends with the pasta without glomming all over it, and generally looking presentable. Our pasta, however, could only be described as "glop in a wok." 

Is it possible that this is due to our lack of culinary skills? 

Why no, how silly of you to ask.

Here's the other thing. Pasta is starchy. Squash is starchy. And it's also not a sauce. So the result is a slightly dry, heavy, starchy, mushy thing with small bites of delicious crunchy pancetta. So the moral of the story is:

Their pasta + reality = our pasta
Yup. Just compared TSwift and Ke$ha to pasta.

On Peanut Butter

I'm going to make another weird analogy.

Here it is:

Peanut butter on a spoon is the snooze button of hunger. They are both magical, counterproductive to most of my goals, and I make frequent use of them.


In the PB spoon's defense, of its 190 calories, only 140 are from fat. That leaves 50 to be made of other things.

Now in haiku form:

Peanut butter spoon,
You extend our happiness.
And also waistlines.

As they say in Ireland, Sláinte!

This past summer I went to Ireland for a month with Colgate as part of an Extended Study on Irish literature. It really was incredible and very educational, not only regarding Ireland's history and culture, but also in the ways of adulthood (minus cooking). There is nothing quite like having your debit card eaten by an ATM in a foreign country for bringing you up to speed with modern electronic banking. I eventually did get the card back, but I had to have a lengthy conversation with the bank people while climbing Ben Bulben.

"Professors, why are we climbing this mountain again?"
"Yeats wrote a poem about it."
"Did he climb it?"
"Of course not."

Tonight my Ireland friends and I are having an Ireland-themed reunion. In preparation for the festivities, a few of us got together to make scones, an Irish staple. Seriously, the saddest thing about coming back to America was the general dearth of tea and scones. I do order tea at diners now. The waiters look at me funny and bring me Lipton in chipped coffee mugs.

We made Cream Scones, and they're 1) delicious, and 2) idiot proof. We got the recipe from Honey & Jam, which is an all around great site. We put chocolate chips in one batch (just stirred them in when we put in the heavy cream), and gave the other a cinnamon swirl. This was surprisingly easy -- just dust the dough round with cinnamon, fold the dough in half, repeat. The scones only take about 30 minutes, including baking time.

Mmmm ... I can feel my fake Irish accent coming on.

This seems like a good time to mention that our interests also extend to beverages. Purely in the abstract, of course, since neither of us is twenty-one. However, in Ireland the drinking age is eighteen.

Let me share with you my favorite Irish alcoholic beverage:


MEAD.


Mead is the drink of the gods. It's sweet without being cloying, and delicately fruity. I don't know how widely available it is, but we had it at a "medieval" dinner at Bunratty Castle. How was this medieval feast, you ask? Picture the early bird special at Medieval Times. Add Ireland's most lipsticked and inappropriately hairy geriatrics, and a group of twenty or so confused college students. Yeah, it was like that.

Going Greek?

Last week, the mania of Sorority Recruitment took Colgate's campus by storm. Not wanting to be left out, Nug and I decided to go Greek as well. But instead of adding Greek letters to our wardrobe, we added some Greek inspiration to our dinner plans.

This.

Not this.

The result was a meal that took us just over an hour to prepare, even though it had MULTIPLE COMPONENTS.

Ha Jin makes Nug have thoughts

Colgate has a lot of great classes, but hands down one of the coolest has to be Living Writers. You read books written by people who are actually alive, and then those living, breathing people come talk to you. In the flesh. It makes me want to roll around on the floor and giggle, overcome with English major/book-nerd glee.

This year's theme is international writers, and they have a really great lineup of people (Salman Rushdie is coming, people. Salman FREAKING Rushdie!). This week's author was Ha Jin, the author of Waiting.


First of all, he's excessively adorable. You know how adorable Bruce Banner is in The Avengers with his whole rumpled, slightly confused brilliant person routine? Ha Jin is like that.

One of these things ... is exactly like the other. (No, seriously, LOOK AT THEIR CLOTHES.)

Both of these things ... belong in my life.

Besides being eminently huggable, Ha Jin is an interesting, thought-provoking speaker. What I found most interesting were his thoughts on language. When students asked him to speak about his decision to switch from writing in Chinese to English, he said very plainly that he wouldn't suggest that anyone learn a second language and try to make a name for themselves writing in it. To do so, he said, was insanity.

The thing to do, Jin said, was to write in your first language and only your first language. But your first language doesn't have to be your mother tongue. Here first means primary, or first in your heart, rather than earliest. Jin thinks, rightly, in my opinion, that writing in a language is more than just putting words from a certain communication system down on a page. It immerses you in the culture, philosophy, and manner of thinking that comes with that language. So it's important that you express yourself in the language you are most comfortable with as a total package. Intriguing, no?

Dirty-Snow Goggles

When Nugget and I were setting up our fancy, impressive, high-tech new blog, we briefly considered choosing a picture of our school as the background for our various musing and misadventures. Ultimately, we decided to make a different artistic choice ("What in the world is a template? Why did our one picture turn into a million tiny ones? Hey, isn't that a button that will give us a nice pre-made picture of a book?"). However, the search for a picture of Colgate that represented our daily experience of undergraduate life proved to be enlightening.

If you were to drive up Broad Street and catch sight of Colgate tomorrow morning, you would see this:

And yet, when we were choosing a photo that captured the essence of our collegiate lives, we came up with this:

I can think of so many beautiful, perfect images from my time at Colgate: the stars over Whitnall Field on a snowy night, the bright yellow leaves on the tree outside my freshman dorm room in the fall, Hamilton decorated like a Christmas village around December, a sunny afternoon by the lake in summer. But at the end of the day, as much as college is the best four years of your life, it is also one long sleep-deprived slog. So when I'm sitting through a lecture at 8:30 AM on a Monday morning, after lugging my books home from the library at midnight the night before....

.... you can bet I'll be seeing the world through dirty-snow goggles.