Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Mass Murder Menu

One thing I've come to love when dealing with the farmshare is a menu that kills off a lot of different stuff.

Because that means all that stuff will stop haunting me in the crisper and I can relax until YIKES it's Thursday again (tomorrow - SHIT) and the crisper fills back up.

I will admit that there have been times with the farmshare where I've come to understand the mania that drives postal workers to do that thing they're so famous for doing under the pressure of THE MAIL - IT JUST KEEPS COMING.

But, worry not, friends - I don't own a firearm or the burning desire to use one - so you are safe.

The vegs, however, are at the mercy of my Mass Murder Menu.

Now, I won't go into my weekly menu planning strategy right now (though, I suppose I could at some point, if anyone was interested, but I'm not sure it's that super special that I'd be doing you any favors...anyway) but when it comes to mass murder of the vegetable kind, these menus sort of fall together. And they're awesome. And they include dessert, which is an important part of a balanced meal if you're Bubba (or me, who are we kidding?), so they're usually big winners.

Thankfully (I think), the farmshare usually includes some fruit so we're not left completely dessert-less and I don't always have to be rummaging in the back of the cabinet for that one Reese's egg that fell out of the bag when we were hoarding Easter candy or anything like that.

For last night's Mass Murder Menu, though...

I came home from getting my hair did and took the full Iron Chef approach to dinner: Open crisper, identify thing that must be eaten otherwise shame will befall our house (beautiful broccoli), identify other thing that must be eaten otherwise grodiness will befall the crisper (stupid mizuna), set items on the counter, determine most efficient/edible method for dispatching said items.

What I ended up with was pretty fucking good, actually, and I got to fix up a recipe we'd tried before but found to be lacking in a certain porky area. SCORE.

Also SCORE was the fact that I got to use some fruit from a friend's tree (Thanks, Elke!) and reuse the bowls four times in one meal.

That sounds gross and like a strange thing to strive for in a meal, but it happened and it seemed like an interesting new approach to not doing so many dishes (even though *I* don't do the dishes, so what do I care?), so I'm going with it. Don't try to ruin my good time, y'all. Or Bubba's - with the dishes and all.

Broccoli Killer
Roasted broccoli and walnuts with prosciutto

Just make the recipe as shown, but sub out orecchiette for whatever small-ish pasta you have on hand (I had whole wheat penne), stir chopped prosciutto (YAY! PORK!) into the mix when you add the broccoli to the pasta, and toss with a bit of asiago, provolone and parmesan. And if yer real fancy-like, add a bit of black truffle oil. BUT ONLY IF YER FANCY-LIKE.

Mizuna Killer
Citrus salad with goat cheese
Recipe by moi

Ingredients: (Makes 2)
Bunch of mizuna
2 oranges, peeled, cut into small wedges
1/4 cup of crumbled goat cheese
Olive oil

To make:
Rinse the mizuna really well, making sure to knock off any remnant dirt from the farm. Trim off excess stalk at the end (I just don't like it. You can do whatever.) Fill a couple bowls with the mizuna, add goat cheese and oranges, pour on a bit of olive oil (however much you, personally, like - this isn't rocket science), a bit of salt and a healthy grind of pepper.

I like a lot of pepper on this. It's good with the sweet oranges and smoky goat cheese. And it makes me sneeze, which is good in a cleansing way. Just don't sneeze on the salads because, ew.

Apple Killer
Apples and honey
You don't need a recipe for this

And if you're wondering where the fourth bowl use came from, well, Bubba had a slice of that chocolate beet cake in his bowl after the pasta and salad and apples, so that counts as four. I, however, did not have any cake because I was full.

And I've heard that is a good reason to not continue eating. Although I had a hard time coming to that conclusion as I watched Bubba carving off a head-sized slice of cake and lowering it into his bowl with a forklift.

That man, he fears no cake. Nor does he fear The Fatness. I, however, fear The Fatness enough that I was able to resist this fourth bowlfull of dining goodness. Even though it would have brought my Mass Murder Menu to even greater heights.

I'm a woman with limits, people. Limits, I say.


  1. Fatness scares me. Especially now that I know that it's a fucking nightmare to get rid of said fatness. And it isn't fun and I don't care what you tell me.

    Beet cake...I swear on my cat who's in heat's life ( we won't rape her with the qtip again..) that I will make this cake.

    What the fuck is mizuna?! Ew. Just the name sounds yucky. :)

  2. Mmmmm. It all looks so good. So very good. I almost wonder if my family would eat the broccoli pasta ... Hmmmm.

    You know my fear of fatness. It's what keeps me out there torturing my knees and whatnot.

  3. I have no limits at the moment (thanks, Cubby!), and I think Bubba and I could eat a whole cake in one sitting.

    Of course, I could do that before I was feeding a baby with nothing but the power of my own boobs, so that's nothing new. But I felt a lot guiltier about it then.

  4. i wonder if fatness fear is a thing that husbands just don't have? and i will say that mine goes on temporary hiatus while pregnant. hence the potato chips i am eating with my sandwich. they are not the baked kind, either.

    good looking dinner.

    and now for my confession: i cancelled my csa bc of that fear of the crisper filled and the pressure to let not one bulb of fennel go to waste. i know, i know, i should just get back to it and trust that i can find good recipes but for now i am trolling the farmer's market and buying local . . .so there is still guilt, just a different variety.


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