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12 Simple Tips That Will Make You A Better Cook

Posted in Family, Food with tags 12 best cooking secrets, top cooking tips on March 29, 2014 by David McInerny

Twenty-five years ago my wife and I ate at the late Charlie Trotter’s iconic Chicago restaurant for the first time. I bought a copy of his new cookbook after dinner, which he was kind enough to sign. Inside the front cover he wrote, “If I can cook, anyone can! Now get into the kitchen!” The experience inspired me to take cooking lessons from two Michelin awarded chefs, and I’ve been a weekend kitchen warrior ever since. Over the years, I’ve come to grasp a few culinary truisms that not only enhance the quality of my efforts, but also are inevitably basic and easy to execute. Recently I heard Anthony Bourdain quoted that while many people are intimidated by French cooking, in reality a reasonably bright yorkie could make beouf bourguignon. I agree, and in that spirit, this yorkie would like to share a few kitchen tips.

1. One Good Knife. You can cook quite well with a $20 chopping knife from WalMart – as long as you get it professionally sharpened twice a year. I recommend spending $100 on one good knife. I use a Global chopping knife made in Japan of #18 stainless steel, given to me by my mother-in-law, and I use it for everything. I’ve only had to sharpen it once in six years. A good knife is the cook’s primary tool, it inspires better culinary effort, and it’s so much safer that a dull knife.

2. Taking Stock. Water is for drinking – stock is for cooking. Sure, I’ll make my own stock for soups, but I’ve no qualms with the low sodium, fat free cans of stock. In fact, they are an optimum alternative to water when making rice, or boiling potatoes. The difference in richness is splendid.

3. Keeping It Real. If you’re going to the trouble to cook for family and friends, then please, please, please … real butter, real cream, real eggs, real cheese.

4. Which Came First? Everyone, whether they like to cook or not, should know how to scramble two eggs. But so often I’m served something that wouldn’t pass muster at a Holiday Inn Express free breakfast buffet. My wife and I, and our three kids can all cook a plate of eggs that make guests look up and ask how we did that. My technique: when the pan is heated, grease it with both a bit of butter and olive oil (two fats are always better than one); whisk the eggs in a bowl for a moment with a fork before putting them in the pan; once the eggs begin to cook, gently fold them (don’t stir them!); when the eggs look about done, take them off the heat and drop in a dollop of (real) sour cream and fold a final time. The residual heat of the pan will finish the job.

5. Pull The Cork. The fact that there is a critical cooking ingredient that can also be sipped to advantage during the cooking process is proof that God loves us. Wine adds a flavor complexity that is unequaled. Use it to deglaze a pan of browned meat, add it to soup, stock, pasta sauce and on and on and on.

6. Fresh Herbs. Dried milled spices are the way to go, but only fresh herbs add a lightness and aroma that keep a dish from tasting murky and dense. And how satisfying is it to have a few pots of herbs on the porch to harvest as needed for the evening meal? If you’re unsure about the difference fresh herbs make, add two fresh chopped basil leaves to your favorite can of Campbell’s soup and become a believer.

7. Embrace Garlic. I know you use garlic! All I’m saying is that you should use a lot more. If you’re not knocking down at least two or three bulbs a week, consider yourself a rookie. Everyone innately knows that its aroma means there’s love in the home. Mince garlic into warm or cold salad dressings. Brown garlic in butter and top a steak with it. My wife’s favorite is roasting an entire bulb with olive oil for 40 minutes and using the softened, caramelized cloves as a spread on toasted, crusty bread.

8. Mixed Vegetables. I’m as guilty as anyone of skating through the vegetable aisle and grabbing carrots, potatoes and a bag of lettuce. But there’s so much more there! You don’t have to learn any new techniques to sautee, boil or steam bok choy, red chard, kale, parsnips, ad infinitum! New flavors, new colors, new textures.

9. Strike Oil. Let’s make a pact that we’ve purchased our last bottle of “vegetable oil.” It’s soybean oil, and while it does yeoman’s duty greasing a pan, it’s colorless, odorless, and flavorless. Three suggestions: olive oil, peanut oil, and sesame oil. You need all three. Olive oil is your “go-to” everyday oil. Buy two-quart cans of Extra Virgin at a specialty store and save a bundle per ounce over a chain grocery store. Peanut oil is perfect for oriental cooking and any dish that requires a light touch. Sesame oil can be purchased in small bottles, and a few drops enhances the aroma and flavor of anything!

10. Against The Grain. I love rice. I cook it many different ways. Yet, I’m very pleased at the ready availability of other grains recently. Quinoa, buckwheat, barley, millet. As with different veggies, new flavors, new colors, new textures. And cook them in stock!

11. Making Bread. Yep, it takes half a day to make a few loaves of bread, but only 20 minutes of effort. Five minutes to assemble the ingredients, and 15 minutes to knead. The yeast does the rest of the heavy lifting. You don’t need a bread machine. The kneading can be a family affair – my daughter loved helping making bread. And what mundane meal isn’t transformed by fresh, warm homemade bread? Start with the Fannie Farmer recipe for “Basic White Bread” and you can’t go wrong.

12. Whole Birds. Boneless and Skinless = Tasteless. There is nothing hard about roasting a whole bird, and the results are superior. My tip is to remove the backbone of the chicken and save it for the stock pot. The advantage is twofold – you can lay the bird flat which allows for faster, even cooking. Also, since cooking two birds is as easy as one, you can fit two flat whole chickens in the oven at once. One for tonight, and one for stew tomorrow.

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Death in the Afternoon – Ernest Hemingway

Posted in Books, Family, Travel with tags bullfighting, death in the afternoon, ernest hemingway, la pepica, valencia spain on October 29, 2013 by David McInerny

Without using the phrase, Hemingway recognized that by the 1920’s political correctness had already pushed the golden age of bullfighting into the past, but there was still honor in the spectacle, and Papa cherished all things honorable. Honorable because bulls were still bred for fighting characteristics, reared with as little familiarity to man as possible so as to keep the beasts wild and unpredictable. Honorable because the matador stepped into the ring without armor, knowing that goring was common, and death was certain – death of the matador if the bull was not managed meticulously.

Death in the Afternoon is more than a treatise on bullfighting, as the book is most often described. Surely, Hemingway details the cultural impact of bullfighting in Spain, the great fighters of the time, and the techniques of breeding great bulls, but the novel’s brilliance is his discussion of human nature through the prism of the fight.

Hemingway dissects those who attend the bullfight; the aficionados, the curious, as well as those predisposed to dislike the event. Even more fascinating, he discusses the matadors and what motivates a man to enter, and make a career, in the ring. For some it’s honor, others family tradition, and some a hope for a large fee. As an expert, Papa can tell the men from the frauds by their footwork, the movement of the muleta, and a willingness to allow the bull’s horns to pass in dangerous proximity to the matador’s belly.

Hemingway traveled from Pamplona to Valencia and Madrid watching the fights. In Valencia, he loved his dinners at La Pepica, a restaurant located on the beach at the edge of the Mediterranean. At the time he was immortalizing his love of bullfighting in his first novel, The Sun Also Rises, and his aura can still be felt in La Pepica as one swills wine and tucks into a bowl of seafood soup. Death in the Afternoon is a somewhat forgotten Hemingway classic, and I recommend reading it on the beach in Valencia, knowing dinner awaits when the sun goes down, at La Pepica.

Hobo Pockets

Posted in Family, Food with tags good food on the go, hobo pockets, quick meals, versatile side dishes on October 5, 2013 by David McInerny

When family members are busy, living on campus, across town, or a few states over, getting together is fun but hectic. Everyone wants to catch up on extra-familial relationships too and, outside of a planned family dinner, getting everyone fed at the same time is nigh impossible. That’s when hobo pockets emerge from the realm of campfire cooking to the toolbox of essential on-demand meals.

Lay out a sheet of foil for each serving, folding each side in one inch for reinforcement. Place a tablespoon of olive oil in the middle of each, and then start adding ingredients, the most basic of which is red or Yukon potatoes, cut into smaller dices for quicker cooking.

Other essentials are chopped onion, garlic, fresh parsley, dried Italian seasoning, and salt and pepper. This combination makes for a great side. If you want to turn the pockets into meals, add diced cooked sausage, or any leftover chicken or beef from the fridge. Put a pat of butter on top for extra deliciousness, and fold the pockets closed. Place them on a cookie sheet and bake at 350 degrees for 45-50 minutes.

The beauty of hobo pockets is that they can be tumbled immediately onto china for a perfect side, or left in the oven after baking, heat off, for up to two hours and still be hot and ready (and eaten directly from the foil) for whenever the next hungry person rolls through the door. They taste even better when warmed up the night day.

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Baltimore

Posted in Family, Travel with tags baltimore, orioles on September 28, 2013 by David McInerny

A good week in B’more. Went to a work convention, saw family, and caught an Orioles game.

Three Generations

Posted in Family, Travel on September 26, 2013 by David McInerny

Three Graces. Three Generations. Mary, Terrill and Bea. My sister, my niece and her perfect babe. In 1984, I lived with my sister Mary as I looked for a career, paying her a paltry $20 a week while I ate their food, taped their records, and babysat baby Terrill. Yesterday, I walked into Terrill’s classy Baltimore brownstone. And held her perfect, baby Bea. On the 82 birthday of my mother, Constance. Generation Four. Growing old is very good.

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Kansas Professor Wants My Children Dead!

Posted in Family with tags navy yard shootings, NRA, professor david guth, school of journalism, university of kansas on September 23, 2013 by David McInerny

As if we needed any more evidence that our institutes of higher learning have become fetid wastelands brimming with ideologues and doctrinaires… Nonetheless, along came Professor David Guth of the University of Kansas who, last Monday in the aftermath of the Navy Yard shootings, tweeted that he hopes the children of NRA members are among the dead at the hands of the next deranged shooter. Not content with that, he expounded upon his inane logic on his blog. And, when contacted by several media outlets, he asserted that he will take none of it back, and that he has nothing for which to apologize. Such are the mentalities inhabiting many of our colleges and universities. If there was ever a better argument against the idea of tenure…

The University of Kansas, in jaw-dropping predictability, took the usual course of inaction. On Wednesday, it simply asserted Guth’s first amendment right to free speech, and hoped the furor would subside. When hundreds (including me) on Thursday expressed their disdain, and the media caught on, the university asserted Guth’s first amendment right again, but added that Guth’s views were not the university’s views. On Friday, when even more (including me) complained that the university was not going far enough, and after a few more unapologetic interviews from Guth, the university chancellor finally put a gag on him and announced Friday that he was on indefinite leave pending an investigation. Over the weekend, the leave turned into an “early sabbatical.”

For those who aren’t acquainted with academic-speak, allow me to translate. Professor Guth is now on an early paid vacation, lasting typically a year, while his colleagues will be forced to take up his teaching load. Oh, that we all could be punished thus for our transgressions. Guth, for his part, is loath to part with his 15 minutes of infamy, and is now blaming the NRA for his misfortune and referring to unspecified “thinly-veiled death threats” against him. As I said, jaw-dropping predictability.

The incident hits close to home, though. I happen to be a proud NRA member, and I not only have a child attending the University of Kansas, but he is a member of the NRA also. I wondered over the weekend if Guth would wish my son dead twice for this double infraction. This morning, I decided to ask him. Armed only with my intellect, I made the 40 minute drive to Lawrence, and I had little trouble locating Guth’s office, curious to see if the professor was capable of engaging in reasoned discourse. Alas, his office was closed, but undeterred I found a seating area and decided to wait. (I had noticed from the media photos that Guth is a rather robust-looking fellow, so I thought maybe he was simply out for an early lunch.) I amused myself with the latest issue of American Hunter, and thought fondly of the first pheasant hunt of the year. After some time, I tried Guth’s door again, but no luck. As I turned away, a professor emerged from his office and gaped at me like I was a ghost. You’d think maybe he’d never seen an NRA cap before. Then again, given that I was in the midst of a vacuum of independent thinking, maybe he hadn’t.

I guess we’ll have to keep a close eye on the university and see if the promised investigation ever takes place, or if they’re hoping time will make us forget. I won’t. By the way, before I left, I noticed two courses that Journalism Professor Guth had been teaching this semester were posted on his door. Strategic Communication Campaigns, and Ethics and the Media. You can’t make this stuff up!

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Long White Vail

Posted in Family, Food, Travel with tags colorado, russells vail, skiing, vail, vail off season on September 21, 2013 by David McInerny

I’ve never been one to hob-nob among the ski community, even while living at the foot of the Alps for a year, but my cousin Kate has luxuriated and worked within that rarified atmosphere for many years. I visited her this week in Vail, Colorado with the expectation of hiking, fishing, and catching each other up on extended family gossip (much more on that juiciness in a future post!). Upon my arrival from Denver, through the Eisenhower/Johnson tunnel – westbound being the Republican side, eastbound for the Democrats – Kate and I planned outdoor strategy and, upon proper reflection, decided the first appropriate activity was a good, large meal to prepare for our upcoming endeavors.

We walked into the center of Vail proper, as Kate explained the invisible corporate entities that ran the resort and made the area hum with fun and profits during the winter ski season. This day, however, with a few weeks to go before the first snows would be eagerly awaited, the cobbled streets were almost empty, and many of the shops were closed or working on truncated hours. We discovered, to our chagrin, that even the local Starbucks closes at 3pm on the off-season. Nonetheless, it was rather enjoyable to have Vail to ourselves for an evening, almost like getting a private tour of Disney World before it opened to the crowds.

The older, Bavarian-style buildings were in perfect upkeep, and remarkably faithful to their originals I knew among the Alps. The newer structures had a more modern, western, yet classy look, and the mix of the two dominant styles melded well to my eye. The cable cars were shiny but still, and the slopes were green; the only hint of the season to come being the orange displayed on the leaves of the aspens that lined the sides of the empty ski runs. Kate explained that even the shops that were open now were more intent on doing a deep clean than serving customers, because there would be little time for such details once the snow and subsequent hordes of skiers arrived.

We eventually arrived at Russell’s Steakhouse, Kate’s favorite, and we were the only customers within as we took our seats. Kate is chummy with the management, however, so they quickly turned their attention to us from wiping wine glasses and stocking the bar in preparation for the winter crush. We chose good, rare beef to pack protein into our muscles in training, a large bottle of San Pellegrino (because dwellers of the western slope are all about hydration), and a hefty side of potato tuiles bathed in Bearnaise sauce, to insure that we didn’t wake up hungry in the middle of the night.

Properly fortified for the following day’s hike, we lumbered out of the door of Russell’s and onto the main square of Vail. It was getting dark, and we could feel the coolness rising from the cobblestones, as if the very streets themselves were breathing in anticipation of the season soon to come. I felt an urge, the first of its kind in my life, to see a ski resort in full vibrancy, and possibly even grab some skis to have a go at the bunniest of hills. I shared this thought with Kate and she assured me, as she always does, that I can come back any time.

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Whitney Lake, Colorado

Posted in Family, Travel with tags colorado hiking, white river national forest, whitney lake colorado on September 17, 2013 by David McInerny

The trailhead is not deceiving. It begins at 9,000 feet, is rock strewn and rises sharply, and continues that way for 2.7 miles and an additional 2,000 feet into the sky. Aspen, beech and downed trees line each side of the narrow trail, broken only by two small meadows during the ascent. For those who, like me, are unaccustomed to hiking at altitude, breathing becomes immediately labored and legs become leaden. My cousin lives and hikes often at this altitude, so it becomes quickly annoying to watch her move effortlessly up the rocky incline.

Two hours to make the climb, but after fording a creek and reaching cool, level ground, a turn reveals Whitney Lake. The view is breath-taking in a different way, and this pristine, prehistoric mountain lake becomes an instant reward for the effort. The cousin suns herself on a warm boulder with a book. I assemble my fly rod and watch the trout rise to a late morning hatch on the water. Elk hunters wonder from the woods to the shoreline to enjoy the view and rest. Squirrels chatter in the pines at Lillie, my cousin’s tireless dog, as she runs along the shore.

A cold wind eventually turns thoughts to the descent which, while infinitely preferable to the climb, and much quicker, is brutal on the ankles. I’m so very happy that I have the correct foot ware. Soon we are back at the trailhead, leaving the the silent lake in its two-mile-high dwelling place here in the magnificent White River National Forest. It was a tough hike but highly satisfying, and we are pleased to have our boots off and aching bodies seated in the car for the drive back.

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MS with the Mrs.

Posted in Family, Travel with tags bobby rico knives, flannery o'connor, mississippi, shelby foot, vicksburg civil war, william faulkner on May 22, 2013 by David McInerny

An impromptu road trip is cathartic, particularly when the destination is a first, as was the case recently with my wife and me. We had ordered last Autumn a hand-made hunting knife for our son from the renowned knife-maker, Bobby Rico (www.ricoknives.com), and when Mr. Rico called to say the blade was ready, I felt inspired to drive to Vaughn, Mississippi to pick it up and see the Vicksburg Civil War Battlefield on the way home. My wife was not only game for the trip, but willing to engage in an evening of intrepid tent camping to defray costs, the knife being no mean purchase. So it was that we tossed one of our three hounds into the car (my wife’s idea, and a good one – a dog makes camping all the more rustic) and made the 12-hour trek to the MS town where Casey Jones (of Grateful Dead fame), crashed his infamous locomotive a century ago.

I must compliment Mr. Rico on his Southern hospitality when we arrived at his home. He not only delivered a fine carbon steel knife with a handle adorned in local Mississippi Osage wood and Kansas buffalo horn, but showed us a demonstration of knife making on his forge, and entertained us with local lore over a cup of coffee in his lodge. His is a story of American exceptionalism, and my next knife purchase will be one of his trademark knifes forged from a railroad spike.

As so with Gettysburg, this year marks the 150th anniversary of the siege at Vicksburg, and I’m delighted to have seen both battlefields this Spring. General Grant made his name at Vicksburg, both in the way he tenaciously pursued victory there, as well as the way he showed compassion for the Confederates after the battle was won. These traits were to reach their zenith two years later at Appomattox.

I must say, only knowing of the place through the writings of Shelby Foote, William Faulkner and Flannery O’Connor, after our brief jaunt, I have already come to love the great state of Mississippi. I will no longer be a stranger to its verdant greatness.