Groucho Marx once said, “I don’t want to belong to any club that would have me as a member.”

Luckily, neither I nor the Durham Co-op is so discriminating.

When The Kid was a high school senior, my mom, my child and I flew up to Vermont to check out the New England Culinary Institute, in Montpelier.  Although it’s quite different in many ways, the town has a very similar vibe to Durham. They’re funky, friendly, and into the farm to table movement.  Imagine our Bull City translated into a sleepy, New England village.

While we were there we visited the local co-op a couple of times.  We loved it.  It was like Whole Foods had a love child with a commune.

When we got home I learned that there were plans in Durham to establish a co-op.  As soon as I found out you could buy in, that’s what I did; for Petey, The Kid, and myself.

Then it became a waiting game.

Finally, last week the new Durham Co-op Market opened on 1111 West Chapel Hill St.  The Matthews family enjoyed our inaugural visit Friday afternoon.

Visually, it’s very reminiscent of the co-op in Montpelier.  Built in a very green manner, there’s tons of natural light and re-purposed materials.

The produce section is chock-full of in-season, organic fruits and veggies.  The dry goods are mainly organic with a few gourmet brands mixed in.  The dairy and frozen foods are the same.

The market has a partnership with First Hand Foods. Their pork and beef are pasture-raised, and free of scary chemicals.  Because of the source, it’s more expensive than factory raised meat, but because of the partnership, it’s cheaper than buying the same at conventional gourmet and organic markets.

One whole side of the market is taken up with kitchens, salad and hot bars, deli, bakery, and ready-to-eat prepared foods.  Much of the foods come from fellow co-op Weaver Street Market now, with an eye to begin making more and more in-house.

We had lunch during our visit.  Petey enjoyed a big bowl of turkey chili.  The Kid and I dined on one of the deli sandwiches, named after Durham streets.  We both decided on the Gerard; with crispy bacon, fresh avocado, baby spinach, and roasted tomatoes.  It comes on a choice of bread (I got 7-grain, my child, focaccia), or as a salad.  It also comes with chipotle mayo, but they kindly switched it to regular mayo for me and my uber-wimpy palate.  For a side, I chose potato salad (tasty), and The Kid had the soup of the day, creamy mushroom (really delicious; my pick next time).

The market is open to everyone, but they have varied owner plans, depending on your situation.  Owners get access to special sales, and voting rights.  It’s open now for business, but April 11^th is the grand opening party, with music, and food and beer samples.  Check out their website, http://durham.coop, and Facebook page for more info.

Inspired by the beautiful golden beets in the store, I have a twist on my favorite beet dish—Harvard beets.  Because of the color, and in honor of the co-op, I changed the name.

Golden Bull City Beets

3 cups (about 2 pounds) golden beets, peeled and cut into bite-size wedges

1 tbsp. cornstarch

1/2 cup apple cider vinegar

1/3 cup liquid from cooking the beets

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons butter

Cover the beet wedges in salted water by about an inch and cook until fork-tender, 15-20 minutes.  Drain, reserving 1/3 cup of cooking liquid.  In a large, heavy saucepan, stir together cornstarch, vinegar, sugar, and salt.  Pour in beet liquid.  Bring to a boil, and cook until it’s clear (still golden, but not cloudy), and thickened.  Gently stir in beets and butter, then cook for about 5-10 minutes until heated through.  Serves 4-6 as a side or 2 shameless beet lovers like myself.

So if you get a chance, go check out the market and maybe become an owner.Because even though I appreciate and frequently follow the philosophy of the wise man that is Groucho Marx, in this case, it’s best to ignore him.

Thanks for your time.

A trench coat can be worn both by an old-school, cigar-chomping private eye, and an elegant woman in a little black dress with equal aplomb.

This mushroom ragout is kind of like that.

It can be the principal component of a show-stopping hors d’oeuvre, a succulent sauce, or an unctuous, creamy soup, with very little adjustment between them.

When my brother Bud got married, he wanted a small wedding at our parents’ home.  The wedding party went out for dinner later, but my mom wanted to have cake and an assortment of finger foods at the house after the ceremony.  The Kid, home from culinary school in Vermont, wanted to cater.

There was a mixture of sweet and savory.  The hit confection was a strawberry cream puff.   But hands down the most popular bite that day was The Kid’s mushroom ragout spooned into hand-made cornmeal tartlets.   There was not one drop left.

A traditional ragout is not a jar of spaghetti sauce from the supermarket, but a long, slowly cooked, creamy stew of meat or fish.  This dish is made of mushrooms, and a few other ingredients you probably already have on hand.

The true beauty of this recipe though is its versatility.  Made thick you can spoon it on toasts, pastry shells or browned rounds of grits or polenta.  Then sprinkle the tops with chives or fresh parsley.

Thin the ragout a bit with chicken stock, and it’s a rib-sticking, soul-nourishing cream soup.  You can then use it in recipes that call for that ubiquitous red can of soup.

Thin it out some more, and you’ve got a delicious sauce that can be used on everything from pork chops to pasta.

And the recipe itself is totally adaptable.  No white wine? Use sherry, brandy, stock, or even water.  Like garlic, but hate onions?  Amp up one and eliminate the other.  You’ve got half and half but no cream?  Use it instead.

Lastly, some important advice: although the recipe can be played with in almost every other way, and the amount of the skim milk is relatively small, don’t leave it out or substitute something else.  There’s some magical property of fat-free dairy that prevents the ragout from separating.  This works for any type of cream sauce.

The Kid’s Mushroom Ragout

2 pounds any type mushrooms, cleaned and sliced

½ yellow onion or 1 large shallot diced

1 teaspoon dried or 3 teaspoons fresh thyme

3 tablespoons butter or vegetable oil

2-3 cloves garlic, chopped

2/3 cup white wine

2 cups heavy cream

1/3 cup skim milk

½ cup shredded Parmesan, Manchego or other dry, hard cheese

Salt and freshly cracked pepper

¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

Juice of half a lemon

In a large heavy skillet, sauté mushrooms and onions on medium.  Season and add thyme.  When the veg are caramelized, put in garlic and cook 30 seconds.  Add wine, scrape up any bits from the bottom, and cook until the pan’s dry (called deglazing).

Stir in dairy and cheese. Add nutmeg.  Let bubble away until it’s reduced to the consistency of mustard or pesto.  Remove from heat, add lemon juice and taste for seasoning. 

At this point you can thin it with stock for another purpose.  Makes about 2 cups.

And contrary to my witty, witty title, I really don’t recommend its use as spackle.  The thought of this ambrosia filling any hole other than a pie hole is heart-breaking.

Thanks for your time.

Right now, as I write this, I am pretty darn gruntled.

We live pretty close to Brier Creek, and the Earth Fare (10341 Moncreiffe Rd, Raleigh).  I love shopping there because they have all kinds of interesting items; lots of unusual produce, many different cheeses, and more organic products than I knew existed.

Petey and I especially love their bakery and prepared foods.  He really likes their egg rolls, and I like anything with carbs and sugar.  But we both agree on one of their salads.  It’s a simple broccoli salad with crumbled bacon.  They have a few other broccoli salads, so ours isn’t always available.  But up until recently, if they had it in the case, I’d always take a couple of pounds home.

I am ashamed to say that I loved the salad so much that when I saw it I lost my mind.  I’d just ask the nice man at the counter for some, and never give it a second thought.

Until one day I did.

I was horrified to discover that my yummy salad of raw broccoli and bacon in a light dressing was NINE DOLLARS A POUND!  Some steaks don’t cost that much.

And that was the last time I bought it, pre-made from Earth Fare.  I bought some broccoli, and decided to recreate it at home.

I had a container in the fridge with a bit left, so I studied the ingredients.  They were all things I had in the house; mayo, Parmesan cheese, mustard, and a few other items. It was just a matter of proportion.  I set to work.

I was fully prepared to write this week about my abject salad failure, but luckily it was a smashing success: thus my good spirits.

BB Salad

1 head broccoli, cut into small florets

2 pieces bacon

1 shallot, diced

2/3 cup mayonnaise

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

1 ½ teaspoons apple cider vinegar

1 ½ teaspoons sugar

¼ cup shredded Parmesan cheese

Salt and pepper to taste

Water

Cut bacon into ½ inch strips.  Cook in skillet until browned and crispy.  Drain on paper towels.  Pour out all of bacon grease except for a couple teaspoons.  Season shallot and cook in bacon fat until it’s softened and it starts to brown around the edges.

Put mayo, vinegar, sugar, mustard, and cheese into a bowl.  Pour in shallots directly from the pan, along with any remaining fat.  Whisk to combine.  Taste and season.  Dressing should be a little sweet and sour.  Thin with a little water, a bit at a time, until it’s the consistency of cake batter.

Put broccoli and bacon into a bowl.  Pour in about ¾ of the dressing and toss to coat.  If needed, add a little more at a time until the broccoli is thinly coated with dressing.

Cover and refrigerate for 4 hours or overnight, so flavors can meld.  Serves 4-6.

This cool, light salad goes great with rich and spicy flavors like barbecue sauce.

Pick up a bag of meatballs, or make your own.  Cover them in your favorite BBQ sauce, and cook them, covered at 275 for about 30 minutes.  Uncover.  Sprinkle with sharp cheddar cheese or horseradish jack.  Top with sliced green onions, and if desired, a little crispy bacon.  Cook for another 15-20 minutes, uncovered.

With these two dishes, macaroni and cheese goes perfectly.

You can make your own, but I have recently made a yummy discovery.

Panera serves macaroni and cheese in their restaurants.  It’s really delicious, if a bit on the rich side.  You can always swing by and pick up some.  But many grocery stores carry Panera soups and now I’ve noticed that their macaroni and cheese is also available.

Even though it’s doesn’t take a lot of time or effort, you can make the salad during the weekend.  It keeps well in the fridge for up to five days.  And then along with some cornbread, and maybe a little fruit for dessert, you’ve got a great weeknight meal.

Then you too, and your whole family can be gruntled like me.

Thanks for your time.

When celebrities are interviewed and asked what the best thing about fame is, many of them say all the different people that they meet.

And I used to say, “What a load of malarkey!  The best thing about their lives is the free shoes, preferential treatment, and truckloads of cash!”

But the funny thing is, the best aspect about this Herald Sun gig is all the terrific folks that I get to meet.  Life is crazy, isn’t it?

The readers of this column are without exception, kind and supportive.  Many readers have written to me (which I absolutely love), with stories, questions, and encouragement.

I’ve met quite a few local chefs, and every single one of them has been kind and generous.  They have all fed me delicious, original food, and answered every single one of my questions.

But perhaps because we have some things in common or maybe because he, like me, lives to feed everyone he comes across, Chef James Clark of the Carolina Inn (211 Pittsboro St, Chapel Hill) and I have become friends.  The first time I met him, the very first thing he asked me was if I was hungry.

There are foods that previously I was convinced I didn’t like.  Oysters are just weird, slimy, and gross.  That’s what I thought until I ate his crispy oysters.  Chicken wings; they were just too much work for too little food that tastes awful.  That was until I ate his smoked wings with mustard sauce.

The biggie though, is grits.  I never was a fan.  Then I ate Chef James’s shrimp and grits.  A host of Southern angels parted the skies and sang Southern lullabies just for me.   I was a complete goner.  I began ordering them from the same small South Carolina mill where he gets his; Anson Mills.  But because I could eat barrels of them in one sitting, and they’re kind of expensive, I ruthlessly ration them.  I was heartbroken when I ran out last fall.  I love them so much I put them on my Christmas list.

Last Saturday night I hung out in the kitchen of the Carolina during the hotel’s 90^th anniversary celebration.  I met two other food people that are awesome—Chef Brian Stapleton and Chef Jimmy Reale, former executive chefs that came back for the night to collaborate on the special dinner.

I also got to spend some time with head pastry chef, Sara Thomas, and get to know her a bit better.  Her contributions to the dinner were a bracing palate cleansing tangerine-lime sherbet, and dessert.

It was a chocolate & salted caramel hazelnut torte with chocolate Frangelico ganache.  It was gorgeous, delicious, and should only be attempted by a trained professional.  But the salted caramel sauce with it made me weep.  It was the best caramel I’ve ever had—and I eat a lot of caramel.

Chef Sara kindly gave me permission to share the recipe.  I know I gave out directions for making dulce de leche a couple of weeks ago, but I really wanted you to be able to have this astonishing sauce.

Chef Sara’s salted caramel sauce

2 cups sugar

½ cup water

1 cup heavy cream

8 tablespoons (1 stick) butter

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 ½ teaspoon salt

Bring water and sugar to a boil.  Brush down sides of pan with a wet pastry brush, but don’t stir; it will seize up (you can gently swirl pan).  Cook until it’s a deep amber color.

Remove from heat and slowly, carefully, add cream (it will bubble volcanically—be prepared).

Return to heat and stir until it’s incorporated.  Then add butter, vanilla, and salt.

Place in a container and chill before using.  Sprinkle more salt when plating if desired (I like mine on the saltier side).  Makes about 2 cups.

I feel kind of bad disbelieving celebrities when they say that people are the best thing that’s come from fame, because the folks I’ve met through this column have been amazing.

Of course, nobody’s offered me expensive shoes, or truckloads of cash yet, so I might have to get back to you.

Thanks for your time.

You know, I daydream all the time about being fancy and going to balls and galas, and stuff like the Oscars.  Gowns, hair styles, and shoes trickle through my mind like French champagne.

Despite the fantasies, though, that is not my life.  High society just isn’t for me.  Being around the beautiful people makes me feel like I’ve got a pebble in my shoe, or crumbs in my sheets.

This is why whenever Chef James Clark, executive chef at UNC’s Carolina Inn invites me to hang out with him and his staff, I don’t hesitate.  I get amazing food, and instead of hobnobbing with gentry, I get to spend time with, and learn from, the kitchen crew.

Last Saturday night was a dinner to commemorate the Inn’s 90^th anniversary.  Chef James, along with two previous executive chefs collaborated in the planning of a meal that celebrated local bounty, the hotel, and its history.

Brian Stapleton, chef at the Carolina from 1998-2006, now Vice President of Food & Beverage for Aramark Parks and Destinations, prepared the first course of sorghum brined shrimp with celery root black truffle puree, and red grapefruit salad.  It was bright, fun, and delicious.

Next was the brain child of Chef Jimmy Reale, Carolina Inn exec from 2007-2012, now the man at the Chapel Hill Country Club.  His offering was NC bison short ribs over grits, with Brussel sprouts and butternut squash, topped with crumbled Hillsborough Company chevre.  The combination worked perfectly.

Then came the punch course; not a drink, but rather an old term for a palate cleanser.  Pastry Chef Sara Thomas prepared a tart, flavorful tangerine-lime sherbet.

My friend and current executive chef James Clark cooked the succulent last course.  Duck breast, acorn spoon bread, pickled pears, and delicious roasted wild mushrooms.  Drizzled on top of the duck was smoked honey.  And yes, it was as awesome as you’d imagine smoked honey to be.

For dessert Chef Sara made a chocolate hazelnut salted caramel cake.  It was cake of which dreams are made.

I wanted to bring to you a recipe from this meal.  I decided on Chef Jimmy’s vegetables, and he was kind enough to give me permission to share.

Frizzled sprouts

1 pound Brussel sprouts, cleaned and sliced as thinly as possible

Olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 350.  Spread sprouts out onto rimmed baking sheet.  Season and drizzle with olive oil.  Bake for 15 minutes, toss and bake 15 more minutes or until browned and crispy on the edges.  Serves 4.

Roasted butternut squash

2 butternut squash, peeled and cut into ½-3/4 inch cubes

Salt and pepper to taste

Olive oil

1-2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

Preheat oven to 350.  Blanch squash in heavily salted, boiling water until almost tender, but still quite crunchy.  Drain and spread out on rimmed baking sheet.  Toss with salt and pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil.  Bake for 15 minutes.  Stir, toss in parsley, and bake for 10 more minutes, or until tender and slightly caramelized.  Serves 4.

The genius of these chefs lie in the taking of homey Southern ingredients, combining them in new and inventive ways, and turning them into world-class cuisine.  They elevate food to the very best it can be.

Restaurant people are tough, strange, and funny.  They’re also remarkably kind and generous.  They’re sort of like the cake Chef Sara made; dark and intimidating on the outside, and sweet and gooey in the middle.

And that’s why I love ‘em.

Thanks for your time.

Have your cake, and eat it too.

Well, duh, of course if I have some cake I want to eat it.  There has never been a cake owned by me that didn’t end up eaten.  I imagine most folks are like this, as well.  No matter how worthy of admiration they may be, cake is for eating, not for decoration—unless it’s decorating my fork.

The correct phrase, which has been lost to most people over time, is actually, “Eat your cake, and have it too.”

Then it becomes a whole different idea.  The first phrase is common sense, the second is either delusional, or at least disregarding of reality and logic.

There’s another dessert based homily that rubs me the wrong way.

“Death by chocolate.”

Um, if I’m enjoying some especially wonderful chocolate, I don’t want to die.  I want to live to eat more.  Good chocolate makes me feel like everything’s going to be alright.

In fact, there are times when my ingesting chocolate has saved the lives of annoying bystanders.  I know for a fact that it has kept the divorce lawyers from our door on more than one occasion.  Sometimes a girl just needs a little something-something to deal with this often frustrating planet and its inhabitants.

Candy bars are good for a quick fix.  In fact Petey keeps a giant Hershey bar under glass with a little hammer in case of chocolate emergencies.

But, for classic cocoa comfort, a cake really hits the spot.  Plus, it’s always very decorative, for the short amount of time that it exists before being devoured.

My double-glazed chocolate Bundt looks like it was a lot of work, but it really isn’t because the cake part comes from a box, and the two toppings are a cinch.

Double-glazed Chocolate Bundt

1 devil’s food cake mix

Make according to directions, except substitute melted butter for the oil, add ¼ cup cocoa powder, and a bag of your choice of chocolate chips.  Bake in a Bundt pan until just cooked through, don’t overcook.

 After the cake’s been out of the oven for 15 minutes, turn it out onto a cooling rack. Poke it all over with a toothpick. 

Glaze #1

2 tbsp. cocoa

1 tbsp. plus 2 tsp. water

1 tbsp. oil

1 tbsp. cornstarch

1 c. sifted powdered sugar

Combine cocoa, water, oil and cornstarch in a saucepan; cook over low heat until smooth. Whisk in sugar.  Add more water if it’s too thick.  Slowly drizzle over entire cake.  Let cool.

Glaze #2-Chocolate fudge icing

6 tablespoons butter

4 tablespoons cocoa

3 cups powdered sugar

6 tablespoons milk

2 teaspoons vanilla

In saucepan, melt butter.  Stir in cocoa ’til dissolved.  Mix in sugar.  Pour in milk, and whisk until smooth.  Stir in vanilla.

Pour over cake, and allow to harden before serving.

After you have the first slice of this cake, you may feel as if you’ve died and gone to heaven.  But you’ll absolutely want to survive for another piece.

These crazy sayings remind me of one of my mother’s expressions, “You’d complain if you were hung with a new rope”.

You betcha.

If somebody wants to hang me I don’t care if the rope’s new, old, or woven from rainbows and unicorn wishes.   I’ll be complaining until that noose is so tight I can’t get out the words.

“C’mon you guys.  You don’t need to be hanging me!  How about we go sit and talk it out over a nice piece of chocolate cake?”

Thanks for your time.

Some things are much harder than you imagine.  So hard in fact, that if you knew in advance how difficult they would be, you’d probably pass.

Leaving The Kid at college was like getting my spleen removed without anesthesia.

Reading “Great Expectations” the whole way through was the kind of pain that I visualize military basic training to be.  That man never used two words when ten laborious pages would say the same thing.

Two words—bikini wax.

And some things are way easier.

Crochet.  For Christmas last year I made a giant blanket for The Kid, and scarves for my three nieces.  This ability came as a shock, because the last time I tried crochet, it took three years to make one lopsided scarf that no one has ever been cold and desperate enough to wear.

Swimming.  When I was four or five I was at our neighborhood swimming pool.  I saw a kid my age swimming, and thought to myself, “That looks pretty easy—I bet I could do it.”  I put my face in the water, started gyrating like a drunken guppy, and before I knew it I was swimming.  Definitely not graceful, but definitely swimming.

Making chicken Cordon Bleu.

One of Petey’s favorite dishes is chicken Cordon Bleu.  It’s chicken, stuffed with ham and cheese.  Sometimes fried, sometimes baked, sometimes just stacked and put under a broiler.

If he eyes it on a menu, Petey orders it.  I’ve purchased it pre-made and frozen, from the supermarket, Costco, and the Schwann’s man.  But never, in more than thirty years of cooking for him, have I ever made it from scratch.  It just seemed way too time-consuming, complicated, and potentially fraught with life-threatening hazards (under-cooked chicken can kill).

Monday afternoon I was at the Food Lion near NCCU (3022 Fayetteville St).  Somehow I hit them at exactly the right moment and there was a plethora of markdowns in the meat department.  I picked up a small roast for half price, and a bag of chicken.

The chicken was Perdue individually wrapped breat cutlets; they worked out to a dollar apiece.  I planned to make a pasta dish with them last night and took some out of the freezer to thaw.

I then remembered I had both deli ham and sliced provolone in the fridge.  Throwing caution to the wind, instead of pasta I would attempt to make chicken Cordon Bleu for my ever-loving spouse.

To cut down on cleanup and the ick factor of working with and assembling raw chicken, I wore a pair of latex gloves.  The whole procedure was made much easier and lot less gross.

Petey’s Cordon Bleu

4 thin chicken breast cutlets

4 thin slices ham

4 slices provolone or Swiss cheese

1 ½ cups flour, heavily seasoned with salt and pepper

2 eggs

¾ cup whole milk

2 cups Panko bread crumbs

Oil for frying

Sandwich 2 slices ham and 2 slices cheese between 2 cutlets, with cheese in center.  Make sure there’s no cheese hanging outside.  Using 2 toothpicks, secure the edges.  Repeat with second packet.

Make a three-part dredge using shallow dishes.  First, seasoned flour, then eggs and milk whisked together, and third, bread crumbs.

Dry off outside of chicken and coat in flour first, then egg mixture, and finally bread crumbs.  Make sure the crumbs are firmly pressed over the entire surface of the chicken packets.  Cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours.

Heat a large heavy skillet with about ¼ inch of vegetable oil on medium-low (My stove has 10 settings, and used 3-4.).  If the heat is too high, the outside will burn before the chicken is fully cooked.

Place chicken into pan and cook until the bread crumbs are golden brown.  Flip, and cook the other side until a probe thermometer inserted into bottom cutlet reaches 165 (about 6-8 minutes a side).  Drain on paper towels and serve.  Makes 2 large servings.

This was so simple that I wondered what else might be easier than I previously thought.  So tomorrow I’m going to teach myself at-home brain surgery.

Thanks for your time.

The other night I had the Cooking Channel on.  Before or after commercials they’ll sometimes run a quick clip with a simple recipe, or a cooking tip.

This is what I heard, “Frost sugar cookies with Greek yogurt!  It’s much healthier, and no one will notice the difference!”

Yeah, I call shenanigans.  Duplicitous, duplicitous shenanigans.

I don’t know about the people for whom you bake cookies, but if I ever tried to pull this, neither Petey nor The Kid would buy it.

And if my mom brought us her magically delicious sugar cookies with yogurt in place of her amazing frosting, it would cause a family scandal that would never die.

A cookie is supposed to be a treat, not a consolation prize.

Most of these healthy swaps are the worst.  Tofu, not dairy cheese, peas instead of avocado, a frozen banana instead of ice cream.  Please.  If you want a frozen banana, then eat one.  If you like the healthier option just as much, then great—eat it.  But quit trying to fool your taste buds.  It doesn’t work, and you end up feeling deprived, which could drive you to crazy overindulgence.

When carbs became public enemy number one, cauliflower became the “instead of” food.  It was used in place of spuds for mashed “potatoes”, I even saw recipes for cauliflower pizza crust.  I don’t even know how to feel about that, it’s so jarring.

All of this does a major injustice to cauliflower.  It’s a yummy, versatile veggy.  The Kid makes creamy mashed cauliflower, and a tasty pasta sauce with it.  But there’s no subterfuge—it’s proudly cauliflower.

I recently put together a recipe containing cauliflower.  It also uses rice.  But not white or even brown, which is a tasty, healthier alternative.  I use an even more nutritious rice.  It contains more fiber and iron than brown.

It’s black, or forbidden rice.  In ancient China this rice was literally forbidden, as only royalty was allowed to partake.  I pick it up at Li Ming’s Asian Market (3400 Westgate Dr, Durham).  You get a pretty big bag for about 3 bucks.  Because it’s less processed, you cook it like brown rice; a ratio of 2 (liquid)/1 (rice), and it needs to cook for at least 30-40 minutes.

This recipe made a giant pot.  We gorged ourselves, and then I froze enough for two more meals.  And because it’s veg and starch, you could get away with this as your sole side dish (I did.).

Cauliflower Garlic Forbidden Rice

2 medium heads chopped cauliflower

4 cups chicken or veggy broth + 2 cups water

½ cup milk

1½ cups black rice

1 teaspoon salt

1 head roasted garlic (Cut head in half horizontally, drizzle with olive oil. Wrap in foil, and bake at 350 for 1 hour)

1 cup Havarti cheese or another favorite melt-able cheese, cubed

Put broth and water into a large pot. Add the cauliflower and boil until tender (around 15 minutes). Transfer cauliflower pieces and roasted, peeled garlic to a blender or food processor, reserving 3 cups cooking liquid. Puree the cauliflower, adding milk and water to get a smooth, creamy consistency.  Taste and season with salt and pepper. 

Cook the rice with the reserved cooking liquid, adding a pinch of salt.  Bring to a boil, and cook covered on medium low for 30-40 minutes or until liquid is absorbed.  Leave covered and let sit 20 minutes.

Pour cauliflower puree over the cooked rice and stir to combine.  Stir in cheese cubes until they’re melted.  Taste, and season with additional salt and pepper if needed.  Serves 6-8.

You can also shred the cheese, sprinkle it on top, then bake it like a casserole.  It’s up to you and your family’s taste.

One of my culinary beliefs is to always respect the food.  When you make some sad swap for health reasons, you are disrespecting both the food you’re trying to mimic, and the replacement food.

If you want to eat healthier, cut back on processed grub, and practice moderation.

And for the love of all that’s holy, just let the cookie be a freaking cookie.

Thanks for your time.

Some things are obviously bad ideas.

Trimming your bangs after drinking is a poor decision.

Asking Donald Trump his opinion about anything will definitely come back to bite you.

And negotiating with a three-year-old or a teenager is pointless and painful.

But prudently purchasing meat on sale can be a great idea.

Every time I go into the supermarket, no matter whether I have one item or thirty on my list (don’t go shopping hungry or without a list; two more bad ideas), I always troll the meat aisle for mark downs.  When it’s getting close to the discard date meat is reduced, sometimes more than 50%.  Just be sure to cook it or freeze it the same day you buy it.

Look for a brightly colored sticker.  Most will say “Reduced for quick sale”.  But Kroger’s is the best.  Their sticker just says “WooHoo!”, which coincidentally is the sound I make when I discover an awesome carnivore’s discount.

The Matthews family loves duck breast.  But it’s not cheap, so consequently, we don’t eat it as often as we’d like.

Whole Foods is my most reliable source.  I normally get two breasts for about $14.00.  In Kroger the other day I got one breast on sale for $3.49.  In addition, there was a manufacturer’s coupon on it for an extra dollar off.   That’s an almost 65% savings.

We eat plenty of pork, but I’ve never cooked a center-cut pork loin roast.  They’re about a pound or so, and perfect for 2 or 3 people.  Normally they run between five and seven dollars.  But I found one for three bucks, so decided to give it a try.  It turned out really good.

Primordial Pork Loin

1 totally frozen center-cut pork loin roast

2 teaspoons seasoning salt (I use Goya Adobo bitter orange)

Or

1 teaspoon kosher salt and ½ teaspoon cracked black pepper

To dry brine:

Unwrap frozen loin and liberally sprinkle seasoning over the entire surface.  Place in zip top bag and refrigerate until thawed.

Herb coating:

3 cloves garlic, minced

Zest of one lemon

1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, minced

½ teaspoon dried thyme

Pinch of salt and pepper

2 teaspoons olive oil

Stir together all ingredients and set aside.

Preparation (You’ll need):

2 teaspoons vegetable oil

Dijon mustard

Preheat oven to 350.  Heat heavy skillet (cast iron is best) on stove.  Add oil.  With paper towels, dry off loin.  Carefully remove any silver skin.  Silver skin is an outer thin skin of a white-ish, silver hue.  Place in pan, and get a nice golden sear all around.  Take off burner and paint the whole thing with a thin coat of mustard.  Press herb mix all over.  Put skillet with pork into oven and cook until internal temp is 140-145 for medium (about 8-12 minutes).  Let rest, lightly covered for 5-10 minutes.  Slice and serve.

You’ll need a probe thermometer to check the internal temp.  I have one which is inserted before the cooking starts.  You can also use an instant-read.  But in either case, don’t remove the thermometer until the meat’s rested.  If you don’t wait, the juice will run out of the hole like a punctured jugular.

I don’t automatically buy everything I find on sale.  I always look at it closely, and give it a good sniff.

Because you’re not saving any money when you have to lay out a couple of hundred bucks for your emergency room co-pay after dining on dodgy lamb chops.

Thanks for your time.

Hi everybody,

Starting next Wednesday, an original, weekly column by me will be running in the Henderson (NC) Daily Dispatch.  I will be posting that on the blog, as well.

Thanks, and take care,

d