And Now, Sausage Links

You've probably heard that it's not a good idea to see either laws or sausage being made.

I'm out of luck. Not only do I know how a bill becomes a law by working at the Ohio Statehouse once upon a time, but Paul has shown me firsthand how to make sausage.

I'd rather stick to politics.

I wrote earlier this year that Paul has taken to grinding his own meat with the help of our stand mixer. He recently went a step beyond by buying casings (read: intestines) at Cabela's so he could form his own sausage links.

Let's be clear: I was born in northwest Ohio. I wasn't raised on an animal farm, but close relatives have long had plenty of animals raised specifically for our eating pleasure. I'm not a vegetarian.

But making sausage links is disgusting.

Some of the meat bust through the casings, so Paul made a couple of patties out of that. Pretty good. But those giant links? No thanks.

My head knows that they are basically the same thing. But ... ick. I'll be deleting these photos from my phone as soon as I can.

First, grind the meat.

Slip the casing onto the stand mixer attachment.

Feed the meat back through the grinder and watch it slide into the casing.

Ready to cook. Yuck.

Making Sausage: Paul's Newest Hobby

Since we moved to Ohio, Paul now has more room for his hobbies. The newest: making sausage.

He requested and received for Christmas a sausage grinding attachment for our stand mixer -- the mixer being one of those items we simply didn't have the space for in our Brooklyn apartment. He bought a pork shoulder last weekend and tried his hand at sausage-making when he was off from work on Martin Luther King Jr. Day.

It went surprisingly smoothly. He cut the pork shoulder into chunks and fed them into the grinder. They needed very little coaxing to pass through the machine. The whole thing was done in minutes.

He added seasonings (sage, garlic powder, red pepper flakes, salt and pepper) and mixed them into the meat. Of course, he couldn't wait to sample the fruits of his labor. So he took about a pound of the sausage and formed them into four patties for lunch.

I'm not a huge fan of sausage patties, but these were pretty good. I can't wait to try the meat in Paul's sausage spaghetti sauce, which I already think is excellent.

So this new hobby of Paul's? I'm a fan.

Pecan Pie if You're Allergic to Nuts

Because Paul is allergic to nuts, we're careful to look at ingredients before we buy foods and Paul is accustomed to staying away from strange desserts. Yes, he's allergic enough that a single nut could kill him if the reaction isn't caught right away, but he doesn't care if I have my own personal jar of Nutella in the cupboard.

Lately, however, I've had a hankering for pecan pie. Don't know why; I like pecan pie, but it's never been my favorite. I could've just ordered a slice at a restaurant, but why take the easy way out? And when I found a recipe for faux pecan pie I got the best of both worlds: a chance to satisfy my craving and a way for Paul to get a hint of a taste of a classic nut-based dessert.

The recipe I used substituted broken bits of pretzels for pecans. The result wasn't exact. It looked surprisingly similar, and the pretzel bits covered in butter and sugar did have a candied nut flavor. The only thing that was a bit off was the texture -- the pretzels were somewhat crunchier than I remember the pecans being after the pie was baked. Still, it was a pretty close replica.

But the pie was nearly ruined by a new pie crust recipe. I hate rolling out dough, and I had a recipe for a crust that you stir up and then press into a pie plate, much like you make graham cracker crust. Easy as, um, pie.

It tasted awful. I think that's because the recipe called for using oil instead of shortening or butter, and the oil taste was overwhelming. I'd like to substitute the oil, but I'm not sure I'm brave enough to try it again. Rest assured, however, the faux pecan pie tasted almost as good with the crust sliced away.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

When I open my gourmet pancake restaurant,
my green shamrock pancakes will be on the menu every March.

Our European Kitchen

I haven't spent Easter with my own family in about six years, and it's been two years since we spent the day with Paul's. But even though it was just the two of us in our tiny kitchen, Paul and I did our best to make it seem like that wasn't the case. For lunch we went to Greece, and for supper we prepared a French feast.

Paul was really yesterday's star chef, but I spent a good a bit of the day by the stove -- and the microwave -- as well. I'm a huge fan of couscous, so for lunch I came up with a Greek-inspired dish with spinach, yogurt, feta cheese and olives. It's a one-dish meal that took less than 20 minutes. Mom would be proud.


I'm not a huge fan of ham, so for a couple of weeks Paul and I had been planning a meal that was as un-Easterish as possible. He made a delicious coq au vin, cooking the chicken in a dutch oven filled with wine, pearl onions, carrots, mushroms and other bits of deliciousness.

Instead of mashed potatoes, Paul smashed together cooked turnips and parsnips. It was suprisingly sweet and yummy topped with the leftover wine in which the chicken had been stirring.

So what did I concoct? Paul misses his mom's popovers but agreed to let me attempt them in a muffin tin. They turned out even better than expected. I let Paul choose the dessert I'd be baking, so long as his choice was French and fruity. A blueberry tart fit the bill. Paul raved over it, but in fact it was a little burnt.


Needless to say, we have lots of leftovers and will shortly be eating Easter Dinner Part 2. Or should I say, Part Deux?

Getting to know our kitchen

I had a lot of firsts in the kitchen last Friday. I made my first cake from scratch (carrot cake), my first two-layer cake and my first cream cheese frosting. It was a tasty experiment, and one I won't mind repeating. Paul is allergic to nuts and had never tried carrot cake before. I thought it was high time he had and eliminated the nuts from my recipe. Besides, it's rare that I've actually had a piece of food that Paul's never tried. It's almost always the other way around.

One thing that hasn't changed much since we moved to New York is the amount of time I spend in the kitchen. Paul is still the main cook, though I will make an occasional visit. Before I got a job I made some plum dumplings that didn't turn out too bad (but they took way too long to make), and I'll regularly bake banana bread or oatmeal cookies. Every few months Paul and I will spend a few hours of the weekend rolling out pasta and making ravioli. I still won't touch raw meat, though. If I make dinner for myself, I'm perfectly happy with some kind of peanut butter or couscous concoction.

In any case, our kitchen isn't all that small. Rather, it's not that small compared to our old kitchen in Columbus. We have a fair amount of cabinet space, no counter space and room for a table that can comfortably sit two (although we've fit four). One nice change: In Columbus our spare room closet was filled with kitchen appliances. With our lack of closets here, we don't have that option even if we wanted to.