Master of the Half Sandwich

I don't sleep well. Never have. For the past few years I have spent many restless nights squished between a sprawling 6'5," 200(+) pound giant and a tiny, frail pixie who smooshes herself into any and every nook and cranny of my body she can find to snuggle into. Needless to say, early mornings are NOT my best time of day. The neurons in my brian are barley firing before or AFTER coffee. So that must mean I get everything ready the night before for the next day, right? Nope. I feed pets, make coffee, prepare Gilly's lunch and snack, double-check her homework, and pick out her clothes all before 7:15-the deadline for having her dressed, complete with piggy tails and bows-every weekday. The kid is off to school by 7:30 and I have precious few minutes to chug some java, pick out my own work ensemble, maybe take a shower (if I didnt take one the night before), definitely put on my face and hair. There is usually no time for a packed lunch of my own. But today, schools were closed due to snow and I had some time to spare. I decided bit of left over chili and a half sandwich would be perfect!

I found myself perplexed to the point of paralyzation as I stared at the bounty of turkey sandwich ingredients before me. How does one MAKE a half sandwich? I didn't want two half pieces of bread left. And the cheese. It's a large square. It wasn't gonna fit on my half-sammy, if I ever figgerd out how to make it. I just kept STARING at the bread, willing it to spill its secrets. Nothing came to me. Stupid bread, being all coy with it's knowledge.

Brian's 'Summie Sense' must've tingled because he suddenly appeared beside me. He noisily slurped his hot coffee and said nothing. "I'm tryin to pack my lunch." I explained, still staring at the sandwich ingredients.

My mild-mannered giant nodded and slurrrped again. "How's it goin'?"

"I want to make a half-sandwich. But how? I'll have left over bread." I glanced up at him and saw that he was LOOKing at me.

"Are you serious?" Sllluuuurrrp!

I shrugged "Well, yeah. I mean, restaurants do it all the time but I guess they don't care 'bout the other half-slices. They know they'll use it. But when am I gonna have another half-sandwich?"

"You know this answer." Brian informed me in his usual mellow tone. Also, slluuurrrp!

"Well, I can't make a turkey sandwich fold-over. The stuff won't fit. Also, how am I gonna fit a square of cheese on a half sandwich? It's gonna be too big and I don't want all that cheese anyway. Hmmm." Time was closing in on me. I had a few moments left to figger this one before I had to dash out the door into the elements and on to work.

"Cut the bread, Summer." It sounded like a mantra to me. Like "Cut the bread" was a chant that was gonna help me mellow out and allow the answer come to me. Well, I didn't have time for a mystical answer, dammit, I needed one now! "HOW THE HELL DOES ONE MAKE A HALF SANDWICH?? I'll have two LEFT OVER SLICES, BRIAN! I DONT WANT LEFT OVER SLICES!! And the cheese? How will it FIT!!??"

"Put one slice back in the package. Cut one piece of bread in two. You will have two slices." I swear he sounded like a Kung Fu master explaining the Secret of Life to me. And it was getting on my nerves. I LOOKed at the bread and saw that Brian, Great Master of the Half Sandwich, was correct. If I sliced the one piece of bread down the middle, I would have my two slices. So I hacked up the bread, slopped on my fillings and stufffed my perfect half-sandwich in a baggie. I held it up for Brian to approve and to give me, his "Lil Grasshopper" a pat on the head.

What I got was "Sllllluurp!" and, "I woulda cut it into a triangle." Like I needed to make it more complicated! I kissed The Master goodbye and flew out the door.

A triangle. Sheesh! As for the cheese, I folded it, split it and gave the other half to the dog.

Probelm. Solved.

2 Day Drunken Guacamole

I am most certainly NOT an outdoorsy girl, an oddity here in this quaint little valley of the Appalcahias, for sure. But all of this snow that has blanketed my little town over the last few days has left even me with a raging case of cabin fever and longing for warm summer evenings when I can kick back with a refreshing beer and a bowl of my fave 2 Day Drunken Guacamole and watch fireflies flash their love songs to each other.

Wait, what?!  TWO DAYS?!?! To make guacamole?!!

I know, I know, but trruuussst me. That first day makes all the difference in this recipe. It's really only just a step or two of prep work. And it's ridic easy. Your fridge will do aaaaalll the work for you. Promise.

You will need:
2 medium to large avacados
1 small clove fresh garlic, finely chopped.
1/2 cup salsa of your choice, strained*
1 lime wedge*
1 bottle/can of beer of your choice(Coronoa is what i usually use)*

1 medium, non-metal bowl
coffee cup
knife
fork
mini chopper**

Day 1

Place slice of lime in a clean cup.  SLOWLY pour beer over lime in cup, just till it's covered.  Cover with plastic wrap or foil and store in fridge overnight. Day 1 DONE. See? Now was THAT so hard?

 Day 2

1/2 cup strained salsa (bc we just want the chunky veggies, no extra liquid) and fresh garlic goes into medium bowl. Stir and set aside.

Remove alcoholic lime wedge from fridge. Plop lime, skin and all (just no seeds)  and 1 Tablespoon of beer from the cup into mini food chopper. Pulse until lime is completely pulverized (I like to pulverize things, have you noticed that?).

 Add lime-beer mixture to salsa and stir. Set aside.

Slice avacados and pit them. Then spoon out the good stuff from the shell and plop into medium bowl with salsa and lime.  Mash all together and stir with the fork. Add more of the beer that the lime soaked in if guacamole is too thick, or a bit of the salsa juice. If you don't like your guacamole with avacado chunks (Are you CRAZY!?), you can always pulse it a few times in the food chopper a little at time to smooth it out before adding to the salsa mixutre. This may make your salsa a little less thick though.

Serve IMMEDIATELY with tortilla chips, beer.


*I'm straight up Appalachian, y'all so I don't waste a daggum thang. Either enjoy the rest of that frothy beer as refreshing beverage while preparing  the guac or pour into a baggie and freeze.  Add the beer that the lime soaked in to the same baggie the next day. This makes a great marinade for steak to be used in grilled fajitas! Which would go great with guacamole! :) Same for the strained salsa juice. Freeze and save it for later, or you could even just add it back to the jar it came from. OR OMG ADD IT TO A BLOODY MARY!
As for the lime, once you cut your one piece, juice the rest and, can you guess?, FREEZE it in a jar or baggie for later use. ORRR add it to the baggie of  alreday frozen beer and use it as a marinade now or freeze it and thaw later.

**If for some UNGODly reason you DON't have a  mini food chopper (seriously, the electric ones are, like, $10 at ANY store in the WORLD that sells kitchen supplies or small appliances), then just hand chop up the drunken lime wedge until it is in teeeny tiny pieces, skin and all, and then add the lime and tablespoon of beer separately to the bowl of salsa.

Sorry no pictures with this one, it's just not working! Will try to add later!

Introducing: The Appalachian Foodie

That’s me. The Appalachian Foodie!

Let's get a few things straight, right off the bat. I was born and raised here in Appalachia. I have all of my teeth, I usually wear shoes, even inside the house.   I do not grow my own food. I don't have a garden, not really anyway. I don't go huntin' or fishin'. I don’t pick up road kill “for later.” Although there is a road kill festival (check it out here: www.pocahontascountywv.com )  in West Virginia. That takes place a good three hours from where I live, though. With the exception of a few herbs, tomatoes and peppers that flourish in containers in the summertime, I buy everything at the grocery store. I may be 100% Appalachian born and bred, but I do not really enjoy spending time outdoors. A garden would be no fun for me. And I can’t kill a fly, I trap them under cups and set ‘em free. So hunting is out as well.

Truth be told, I don’t always use food sources indigenous to the Appalachian region. I have never cooked with venison, nor rabbit nor bear. I’m not opposed to those meat sources, I simply haven’t had the opportunity to use them.

I just happen to live here in West Virginia, a state which is completely ensconced within the Appalachian mountain range. My hometown is a quaint little village snuggked up to one of the biggest cities in the state, so while I’m not exactly a city gal, I ain’t all that country, neither!

I have come to love food completely on my own. My food history isn’t long and complicated. As a little girl my mom fixed lotsa casseroles featuring leftovers. Sometimes dinner was a Frankenstein concoction of whatever needed to be cleaned out of the fridge and freezer. We had soups and stews like that as well.

For my mother, who also worked two jobs, one of them being her own business, cooking was a chore. For me, it is a creative outlet. A delightfully challenging, sometimes frustrating surprise every day. I have no formal training as a cook and most of the time I have no idea what I’m doing. But my kitchen concoctions almost always turn out super yummy. Sometimes I make up a recipe, sometimes I find inspiration elsewhere and I am inclined to Appalachify it a bit.

Take a recipe I found for baked spinach chips. Which I have since dubbed,  "50 Shades of Leafy Greens,"  not only because they are  heavenly yet sinfully delicious, they also elicit moans of pure ecstasy as you consume them with a building, passionate frenzy and you feel as if you are a spinach virgin, never having tatsted this underrated leafy green quite like this!

Well, that and there are at LEAST 50 ways to season them (I have also spiced them up with cayenne, some "Eye-talian" ones with garlic-infused olive oil. I added  a healthy sprinkle of  cajun spice mix to them once and WOOOOO-eeeee they was MMMMMMM-licious!!)
The ingredients listed called for olive oil to toss the spinach leaves in. Well, sure, like any cook worth her sea salt, I HAD olive oil on hand. But the first time I made them I ALSO had BACON GREASE hanging around from breakfast.  BAAACCOOONNNNN. GREEEEEASE. A staple in any household in Appalachia, I'll have you know. And an extra strip of bacon I was saving for…something. Spinach and bacon are a match made in heaven as anyone knows who has had a fresh spinach salad with hot bacon dressing.

So with out further ado allow me, The Appalachian Foodie, to  present to you:

50 Shades of Leafy Greens, Bacon Edition

You will need:

1 package fresh (not frozen) baby spinach leaves

1-2 Tbs bacon grease

1 strip of bacon, pulverized

Salt and pepper

Cookie sheet

Parchment paper or brown paper lunch bag

Large bowl

Paper towels

Directions:

Pre-heat the oven to 250ºF.

Not from a garden!

Place 2 paper towels on workspace and lay spinach in a single layer on the paper towels, this will help them dry quickly. They need to be dry so the bacon grease will stick and so they crisp up in the oven. Leave on paper towels for at least 15 minutes.
     
                                                               

Air dry the leaves

Place the spinach in a large bowl and toss GENTLY with 1 Tbs of the grease. Add more if needed. If the grease is fresh, let it cool JUST A BIT, don’t let it solidify, you need it liquidy. If it is already in  solid form in a coffee cup from the fridge (admit it, you have a coffee cup of bacon grease in your fridge right now, don’t you? If you’re even a LITTLE bit country, you do!) nuke it in the cup a bit in the microwave until it is in liquid form again.
Sprinkle generously with salt and pepper.

Baconization

Lay the spinach leaves out in a single layer on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. If you don’t have parchment, use a paper lunch bag cut to fit your cookie sheet. Spray with cooking spray before adding spinach.

                                               Try not to overlap the leaves or they will just steam and not crisp up.

Bake for 15-20 minutes until cellophane thin, and a bright, dark green color.

In the oven!

   
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             
 
While leaves are baking, take your strip of bacon, and I KNOW this seems so unfair, cruel and brutal even, but I PROMISE it will be worth it, so... PULVERIZE it! I used a mini food chopper, you can just use a knife to keep cutting and cutting until the bacon is in teeeeny tiny pieces.


When the spinach is done, pull each individual leaf  one by one off of the cookie sheet on to a paper towel-lined plate. This will help soak up any extra grease. The leaves emerge from the oven a glorious bright and dark green, so pretty!

So green! So pretty!

 

 

Sprinkle pulverized bacon on top of spinach leaves . And they are ready to serve!!

Not a great pic, but you get the idea!

Be sure sure to repeat the recipe a few times because you’ll be shocked at how quickly they melt in your mouth and vanish “just like that”!! And if you are ANYthing like I am, you will do the whole “One for me, one for you. Two for me, one for you!,” thing as you pull the crispy, salty yummies off the cookie sheet. One on the plate, two in your mouth! Trust me, you can’t have just one and you’ll find as you eat them you will get more and more selfish and want them all for yourself!

These are so simple to make, and absolutely fool-proof!  Just keep making more! I dare you to try to stop! You'll want more and more and more and...! Hey, I don't call em "50 Shades" for nothin!