Tabouleh

There is something fresh and wonderful about lemony, tart tabouleh. Mediterranean fare is one of my faves, and tabouleh is just scrumptious. Now, given my aversion to cucumbers, you won't find any here. And I know this isn't the most traditional of recipes, but it's still yummy. Now, the only thing I really measure here is the bulgur and water; everything else is to taste.

Tabouleh

1/2 cup bulgur wheat
1 cup boiling water
fresh lemon juice
olive oil
minced garlic
salt
pepper
cherry tomatoes
red bell pepper
scallions
parsley
mint

Pour the bulgur and water into a bowl together and cover with cling film. Let stand for about 30 minutes until the water is absorbed. Then toss the still warm bulgur with lemon juice, olive oil, salt, pepper, and a clove of minced garlic. This helps the grains really absorb the flavor. Meanwhile, dice your veg and tip into the cooled grains. Toss everything together, adjusting the seasoning.

Note: Sometimes to make this a bit more special or as a lunch dish, I will toss in some chickpeas and feta. I use the cherry tomatoes because they're easier and are more likely to be found ripe when tomatoes are not in season. Sometimes a pinch of cayenne or red pepper flakes find their way in here. And, of course, the quantities can be increased as needed.

Courgette Fritters

Squashes and I have a tenuous relationship. I've a similar relationship with aubergines. It all stems for my loathsome disgust for melons and cucumbers. Aside from the aubergine, these fruits all belong to the plant family Cucurbitaceae. Given my intense dislike for melons and cukes, dishes with squashes, aubergines, and other foods with similar textures must be prepared 'just so,' else I shan't eat them.

These little dears are prepared just so. It's an easy way to deal with an abundance of courgettes. It's one of those things I 'just make,' so measurements are superfluous.

Courgette Fritters

Clean your courgettes well and grate coarsely with a box grater onto a double thickness of paper towel. This will allow you to squeeze out as much of the water as possible when you have your desired quantity. Add a quantity of grated onion and carrot, as well as some minced garlic. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Add a quantity of breadcrumbs, preferably fresh, and an egg for binding purposes. Form into smallish fritters and sauté lightly in olive oil until golden brown on both sides and cooked through. Enjoy with a Mediterranean mezze of tabouleh, hummus, et cetera, or stuff into a wrap, or top a salad, or just pop them into your mouth!

Note: Fresh corn would be a wonderful addition to these little dears, as would some sort of accompanying sauce, say perhaps a spicy, piquant pepper jelly, making a lovely starter. They could also easily be made with summer squash or a combination.

Apologies

Dear reader, a bitch had visions of sugar plums dancing in the head. Well, a bitch ended up with prunes.

Since the last post heralding the return of new receipts to this fair site, challenges have emerged on a personal and professional level. To learn more, if you so choose, go here.

Rest assured, I am currently working on three posts to be available later today. I do hope this signals a true return to this blog and my other blog, but most importantly a return to myself.

The bitch is back

One would think that the poor kitchen of Krafty Bitch has become derelict. Not true, dear reader. Dame Krafty has been cooking. Indeed, one has been cooking in various locales around the US and on both sides of the Atlantic. A bitch does get around.

But for a while now, a bitch just couldn't be arsed to take a photo of culinary creations, or forgot. Inspiration strikes and then can all too easily wane. I suppose it's a bit of the Edina Monsoon in me, sweetie.

However I am inspired again, and wanting to get into the swing of things foodwise. I'm in a new location now which puts an emphasis on eating fabulous, local food, a pet idea of mine. I want more creativity and fabulousity in my life. I know, I know, you think there can't be room for any more. But the sky's the limit on such things, cher.

So, the food blog must get more attention. Receipts that have sat in a big, black binder must be tested and culled. A food-themed book/supper club with a catchy name* must be started and chronicled in the kitchen. And so on and so forth. So keep your eyes peeled, as they say, for new things to come, like the receipts for the components of the photograph above, a Mediterranean mezze I prepared as a lunch for guests recently at Chez Bitch. It seems my new abode has become C-ville's newest, most fabulous B&B. Book early, child.

*Feel free to submit catchy, clever names for the book/supper club in the comments.

Catherine Bonn's Apple Walnut Cake

In my family, this cake is simply referred to as a Catherine Bonn cake. The receipt comes from a lady from my grandmother's church. It is a moist, delectable cake, perfect with a cup of coffee or a glass of milk. The cake is made using vegetable oil as the fat, which I have found leaves the end product very moist indeed. With or without the caramel topping, this cake is ravishing.

Catherine Bonn's Apple Walnut Cake

3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups vegetable oil
3 eggs
3 cups finely minced apple
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup black walnuts, chopped
1 cup coconut

Preheat your oven to 325º and grease and flour a tube pan. A bundt pan may also be used in a pinch. Sift together the dry ingredients, excluding the sugar, and set aside. In your mixing bowl, combine the sugar and oil. Then add the eggs one at a time before stirring in the vanilla. Mix in your dry ingredients, then stir in the apples, walnuts, and coconut. Pour into your prepared pan and bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes, or until done. The old skewer/toothpick trick is best for testing doneness. Poke it with the stick. If it comes out with just a crumb or two attached, it's ready.

Once you've removed the cake from the oven and would like a caramel topping, let it rest for a few minutes, then remove it from the pan. Combine a stick of butter, 1 cup of brown sugar, and 1/4 cup of milk in a saucepan. Bring to a boil and boil for 2 1/2 minutes, stirring constantly. Pour the topping over the warm cake and let cool before serving.

Note: Please use a delicious apple, one that you would want to eat, but not one with the word 'delicious' in the name. To me, these are anything but delicious. You may also want to toss the walnuts with a bit of flour before adding them to the batter. This will keep them for sinking to the bottom. And please, use real proper vanilla extract.

Onion Soup with Thyme

The onion doesn't get enough credit. I, personally, adore the little creature. I feel it is the unsung hero of the kitchen. Seriously, how many receipts begin with chopped onion? Such a simple thing, but, oh, so woefully missed if absent.

And such a simple thing sometimes deserves extra bits of attention, as in delectable onion soup. This is something that you cannot whip together in mere minutes. This takes time (and thyme), but is well worth the effort. But it is forgiving. You don't have to watch it like the hawk. So, whilst your engaged with something else, have this on the hob.

Onion Soup with Thyme

Slice a quantity of onions thinly, about two to three pounds of yellow onions. Alternately, you may chop them. In a lovely Dutch oven, melt half a stick of butter, letting the foam subside before adding all of the onions. Sauté the onions slowly until they're as brown as you like, stirring occasionally to keep them from sticking. This is going to take at least 45 minutes, as you do want to do it slowly. If you cover them, they'll sweat and steam. Uncover them to get them browner. The browner they become, the darker the soup.

When your onions are to the appropriate state of golden brown, add a minced clove of garlic, about a tablespoon of sugar, a couple of tablespoons of all-purpose flour, and a quantity of chopped fresh thyme. Stir this about until the flour is cooked, then pour in about 4 cups of vegetable stock, depending upon how brothy you want the soup. Let this simmer for as long as you can hold out. Naturally, add salt and pepper to taste before enjoying.

Note: Okay, please season your food as you're cooking it. I don't explicitly say this, because to me it comes naturally. But if you do indeed season with salt and pepper as you go along, particularly salt, everything is well seasoned but not salty. You can adjust at the end, but you really can't season at that point. It's hard to explain the difference, but it is the truth. When I'm sautéeing the onions, I season with a bit of salt. Not whole spoonfuls, no. A pinch here, a pinch there. It helps the onions cook more quickly and it just all tastes better. This is a skill that comes with practice, believe me, which just means you must cook more often. But once you've mastered this, once you feel comfortable enough to just go into the kitchen and cook, without strictly following a receipt to the letter...it's a wonderful thing.

Now, traditionally, onion soup is made with beef stock. Not happening in a vegetarian kitchen. It's also usually topped with bread and/or croutons and/or cheese and grilled. If you want to do that, do it. I didn't have the crockery or the inclination. First, I'd much rather dunk a good crusty piece of bread into the soup (do use good real bread, not slimy white slice). And I'd rather have a bit of cheese on the side, preferably not some Swiss, which I know is what is usually used. I, personally, like a nice sharp hard cheese with this slightly sweet soup (again, real cheese). But I shan't spank you if you don't follow my lead.

Tomato Soup

When it's cold outside, I like to make a big pot of soup. Of course, as I finally get around to actually writing and posting this receipt, it has been a balmy March day when a warming soup would be out of place. I didn't make as many different types of soup this winter as I had wanted. But I did make more soup this past autumn and winter than the previous. And with the upcoming move to less temperate climes, I believe more soups will be composed in the upcoming autumn and winter. But back to the soup at hand.

I do love tomatoes. This hasn't always been the case, especially when in their raw state. But over the years, as my palate has learned a thing or two, the love apple has become one of its favorite things, if, and only if, it's ripe. So how is it possible to have warm, lovely tomato soup in the doldrums of winter? Well, one can preserve one's own tomatoes, either in the freezer or in jars. Or one can buy tinned tomatoes. Don't gasp. Think about it. Because they don't have to arrive in the supermarket in their native form, tinned veg can be picked and processed when it's actually ripe. Now, while I don't go in for many tinned vegetables, tomatoes are an exception if they are good, plum tomatoes. So, experiment and find a brand that you enjoy. Then keep the different varieties of tinned tomatoes (diced, whole, et cetera) in your pantry. A well-stocked pantry is a thing of beauty, and a joy forever. With one, this soup comes together in a trice.

Tomato Soup

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 28-ounce cans of tomatoes
1 tablespoon brown sugar
2 cups vegetable stock
salt and pepper

In a lovely Dutch oven, sauté the onion in olive oil until translucent, then add in the garlic, brown sugar, and a healthy pinch of red pepper flakes if so desired. Stir this about for about half a minute before adding the tomatoes and stock. Give everything a good mash with a potato masher to break up the tomatoes if using whole ones. As usual, season with salt and pepper to taste, and simmer away for about 30 minutes. Either in a blender or with an immersion blender purée the soup and adjust the seasoning.

Note: I prefer to use tinned whole tomatoes for this, but I make sure that the seeds are removed. I don't care for tomato seeds, which are bitter and indigestible.

This soup, as so many do, gets an added benefit from the presence of a parmesan rind. Pop the rind in as the soup simmers and remove it before blending. You will be so glad that you did.

This soup may also be creamed. And if you so desire, pray do so. But, please, use real cream and check for seasoning after adding it.