An Homage to Julie & Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangrously
First off, let me tell you that the book JULIE & JULIA is inspiring. Well, not so much inspiring as mouth watering. It makes you want all those dinners with too much butter and cream (who wouldn’t??). And it’s like a really funny version of the cooking chanel meets some lame-ass reality TV show like the girls next door. I sat there for two days, reading this book, and drooling over the nasty French dishes she’s cooking, that no matter how disgusting she describes the making of them, I still wish I was in her shitty apt in Long Island City eating them with her (and drinking copious amounts of alcohol that always seem to accompany her dinners).
So here I am on the first gorgeous afternoon for a week, just went on a bike ride, should be out suntanning on the dock doing nothing but reading trashy magazines - and what am I doing? Sitting on the couch doing suduko puzzles, playing Donky Kong on my ancient super nintendo (well, it’s only 2 years old for ME), and reading my book, Julie & Julia. That’s when I got fed up. Not with reading or futzing around, but with the box of strawberries and old plastic bag full of rhubarb that have been wasting away in the fridge for days and days. Probably weeks.
My mom was supposed to show me how to make her delicous rhubarb/strawberry jam that is really just goo because it can never get thick enough to actually jam/jelly up, but we eat it every time anyway because it tastes so good. Finally, this afternoon, I decided it was time to make it. But in the process of making a GIANT pot of it (seriously, the pot was giant. Anyone need a jar of delicous goo? I’ll give it to you for free.), we both got ravenously hungry.
MY MOM & I STARTED OUT WITH TWO INGREDIENTS:
One chosen by me: frozen baby scalops I’d dug out of the freezer when I went out for a shitty lean cuisine this lunch. And one from my mom: zucchini that’s been in the fridge for a while, sauted it goes well with ANY meal, and it’s about high time we cook it up. Y.U.M. Seriously, this was really appealing to both of us.
I wanted to eat the scallops as our friend had made some time before, with butter and waaaaaaay too much garlic. I mean painful amounts of garlic. (literally, it upset my stomach. But it was too delicious to stop eating.) However, we only had most of one mangled stick of table butter in the house. Oh well! With a little oil and butter simmering on the stove, I threw in my freshly chopped (minced?) 4 cloves of garlic. Ha! And we thought that was enough. I’m sorry, friends, it takes more than 4 cloves to combat that slight flavor of freezer burn that lingers on those scallops from Sam’s Club from a month ago.
So there we were with way too much watery substance (oil, butter, melt off from the frozen scallops), and a ton of not-so-cooked-scallops we refused to waste but didn’t know how to save. Well, after staring at it for a minute, we decided to just transfer all the scallops to a fresh pan sans their water that neither of us could justify dumping down the drain & continue to fry them up. I mean, there had to be something we could fry up in the water that would be made better by tons of butter and garlic, right? Aha! Zucchini!
So in went the zucchini (+onions, and yes, more garlic) into the 1/4 inch of watery stuff we had simmering. The scallops appeared to be browning nicely-but as I’m an expert in sauteing zucchini, I knew that they have more water in them than anyone unfamiliar with the vegetable would suspect. This water was not going to boil off anytime soon. In fact, it was just going to get worse.
As we stood there, staring at our two sizzling pans we lazily discussed what “starch” would go best with this. The scallops tasted a little freezer burned and needed more butter. The zucchini was going to end up more boiled than fried, and that’s not ideal. My mom suggested rice, but I’m NOT a fan of rice. Then I suggested a bit of pasta and our eyes lit up. (I’d hazard to say that our stomachs lit up, but I think that’s a very seldom used idiom that I’ll stay away from.) Only, you can’t just throw in a bunch of uncooked pasta and hope it’ll cook up nicely in time with the rest of the ingredients.
We turned off all the burners and boiled some water. Once the suggestion of adding pasta to it was ignited, we couldn’t think of anything more perfect. This was going to be a pasta concoction dish, god damn it, and that’s all there was to it.
Except the problem is, neither of us are big fans of those oily, garlicy pasta dishes you find at cheap italian restaurants (yes, Olive Garden, I’m thinking of you. You aren’t Italian. NY does Italian. You don’t.) They upset my stomach. Buuuuut, the other day my mom showed me how to make Beef Strogonoff. Who knew it was just sour cream to thicken it? I had NO idea. But I do now.
So after throwing the mostly cooked pasta into the simmering-again zucchini, I looked at it and realized I wasn’t going to like the garlicy glaze going on. But sour cream didn’t seem to be quite the way to go with it. My mom wanted to throw in the precious (delicous and dangerous to my lactardedness Goat Cheese) and I didn’t want to waste it. Finally, after rifling through the fridge for a bit, we found and compromised on cream cheese and half & half. Seriously, you have no idea how perfect of an idea it was.
We started out with 2 ingredients and ended with one of the best meals I’ve had in a loooong time. I’d been drooling over the French dishes in Julie & Julia for a couple of days now, and never suspected I would get a dinner that would be as satisfying as the ones she described. But it was seriously fun arriving at it, just as she said.
In the end we took our organic red wine that tasted a lot better on its second glass, our plates of really really rich Garlic Scalops and Zucchini over Pasta Concoction out to the end of the dock, and enjoyed a fabulous meal. Ahh to be baked in the late sun while eating a meal you made up. I hope I made you drool as much as Julie Powell does.
4 months ago • 0 notes