#but it was fine since its mashed potatoes i just added back the moisture

[lago-morpha]

Fried (s)mashed potatoes loaded with bacon, parmesan, & green chilies and topped with munster and real bacon bits. I was out of shredded cheese so the slices had to do LOL

[rolling-in-the-undertale]

Here’s my Secret Santa gift for scarytinyturtlebutt! I submitted it to her yesterday, but for some reason it wouldn’t link to @undertalesecretsanta This is me linking it again, so hopefully it works :)

“What do you guys usually eat for Christmas?” you asked Sans as you grabbed a can off the grocery shelf.

“well,” he chuckled, “this is our first christmas, so technically nothing.”

“Oh, right.” Monsters had only been on the surface for two years. Sans had explained they hadn’t yet tried or integrated many human traditions into their own yet, even though some of theirs were very similar. “Then what do you usually eat for Gyftmas?”

“whatever paps wants,” he shrugged, moving to stand on the bottom rack of the cart, leaning his torso over the handle. “it’s different every time.”

“Like what? I need specifics.” You walked further down the isle, pulling both cart and lazy bones with you.

“one time we had a pancake and hot chocolate bar, another time we had oatmeal with those little dinosaur eggs…”

“I sense a theme here,” you said, raising an amused eyebrow.

“heh, yeah. paps says it’s the only time of the year that breakfast for dinner is okay.”  

“Hmm,” you mused as you scanned the shelves for anything else you might want. You and Sans hadn’t come prepared with a list, planning to figure it out as you went. Not seeing anything in this section, you pulled the cart onward. “Maybe we’ll have to add some kind of breakfast food to our feast then. Any suggestions?”

Sans thought for a moment. “what other foods are ya making?”

You started listing them off on your fingers. “Turkey, stuffing, rolls, mashed potatoes. A few other things I haven’t decided.”

“savory stuff, huh? maybe a quiche, then? papyrus likes those.”

“Ooh, perfect!” Your eyes lit up. “I know a great recipe.”

“goes good with ketchup, too.” He flashed a mischievous grin as he leaned off the moving cart to snag a giant bottle of the stuff.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. “You’re buying that separate. I refuse to pay for your unholy addiction.”

“i can quit anytime.”

“Yeah right,” you snorted. “Right after I quit my sleeping addiction.”

“hey, papyrus quit his.” He winked. “anything is possible.”

You stopped walking to grab a few spices. Then you looked him straight in the eyelights, deadpan expression. “Monkey-walrus hybrids wearing nothing but potato skins and living on the sun in cotton huts.”

His browbone contorted in deep confusion. “what the hell did you just say to me?”

“Not everything is possible.” You gave him the widest, shit-eating grin you could.

“i think you need to get checked out,” he smirked back.

“Okay. Right after you get your addiction checked out.”

“maybe we should just check out of this store.”

“As soon as I check out this sale over here.”

“in the meantime, i’ll be checking you out.”

“Ooookay. Time to check out of this conversation.”

“does that mean i win? checkmate.”

“I’m legit done with this now,” you laughed. “No more!”

“sue me. i’ll write a check.”

“Noooo! Sans!” You started walking away.

He followed with the cart. “check. chhheck. check. hm. sounds weird now.”

“Why did I ever agree to date you?” you huffed.

“ditto, ms. monkey-walrus hybrid,” he grinned, an amorous sparkle in his eye.

Unable to hide your own smile, you shook your head and replied, “Let’s just go pick out a turkey, bonehead.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day was Christmas Eve. You headed over to the skeleton brothers’ house in the late morning to start working on dinner. Usually your big feast was on Christmas itself, but the monster queen Toriel was hosting a huge party that day and you’d all been invited. Since Sans and Papyrus had never had an authentic human Christmas before, you decided it was your duty this year to make sure they did. This was one of the best times of the year, after all. It would be a crime not to experience it in full.

Papyrus answered the door, as per usual.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE, HUMAN!!” he shouted.

“Merry Christmas Eve, Papyrus,” you nodded as you stepped over the threshold.

“I CAN’T WAIT TO START THE FEAST PREPARATIONS!! THIS IS GOING TO BE SO INTERESTING!” he said as he followed you into the kitchen.

“Haha, yes,” you smiled, eyeing him a little nervously as he began to pull out the ingredients you’d bought the day before. “Just remember that I’m the Master Chef today, young Padawan.”

He paused a moment to shoot you a confused glance. “OH, THAT’S THE WARRING STARS REFERENCE… YES!! I WILL DO EXACTLY AS YOU INSTRUCT!”

“Good,” you chuckled. “First we should start on the pies.”

“this looks like a pie-ne time to join,” said Sans, peeking around the corner.

“Oh, hey! You want to help, too?” you asked hopefully.

“nope,” he grinned, taking a seat on one of the counter stools. “by join i meant watch.”

“And nap on all of our counter space,” you said wryly.

The day went by rather quickly with all the cooking and baking. All the previous cooking lessons you’d given Papyrus had paid off, evidenced by the minimal burnt dishes. Sans had been a bit of a butt, hiding things you were using when your back was turned (you suspect he’d been bored). But all in all, everything had turned out just fine.

After the table was set, you all sat down together to eat.

“so, uh,” sans started, “is there something we say before we eat?”

You paused in the middle of lifting a knife. “Like what?”

“i dunno, like ‘merry christmas, let’s eat?’” He shrugged.

“You said it then. Let’s eat!”

“AGREED!!” Papyrus chimed in.

Just as you were about to carve yourself some turkey, a flash of white zipped across the table, grabbing the bird by it’s leg and dragging it just as quickly over the other dishes. Bowls were tipped and flipped, splattering food and juices across the tablecloth.

“STOP THAT DOG!!” Papyrus leapt onto the table in pursuit, only creating a larger mess.

It all happened so quickly that you barely had time to register. You just stared as a glob of mashed potatoes smacking onto the front of your shirt. Turning to Sans, you saw his grin tighten as he leaned to rest his forehead on the table. The sounds of an angry Papyrus started to fade out through the front door.

“What the—why was—who let—the food—friggin’…” Your strained mutterings trailed off in an exasperated whine. You could feel hot tears begin to form as you took in the sight before you. “All of our hard work…”

“i’m sorry y/n,” Sans said, placing a hand on your back.

“What’re we going to do now?” Your voice shook, and you turned to look at him. When you saw his face, your eyes went wide.

“what?” he said, feigning innocence. “my bones felt a little dry. thought they could use some moisturizing.” His cheekbones were coated in a nice layer of gravy that was slowly dripping down his jaw.

The ridiculousness of it, paired with the ridiculousness of this whole ordeal… you really wanted to cry, but you couldn’t help the hysterical laughter that erupted from your mouth. Your doubled over in your chair, mirthful tears replacing sad ones. You heard Sans emitting similar levitous sounds next to you. This totally sucked, but it was going to be alright.

When Papyrus came back empty-handed a few minutes later, you two were still cracking up.

“WHAT IS SO FUNNY?” he asked, visibly fuming. “THAT DOG’S ENJOYING OUR FOOD SOMEWHERE, AND HE DOESN’T EVEN PAY RENT!!”

“It’s okay, Papyrus,” you managed to say while catching your breath. “We can figure something else out.”

“BUT ALL OF OUR KITCHENING HAS BEEN WASTED!”

“’kitchening?’” Sans smirked.

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!”

“Hey, I think the quiche is still salvageable,” you said, pointing to a round dish off in the corner of the table. There was a small paw print decorating the center of its golden-brown top.

“well that’s a pawsitive,” Sans snickered.

“EUGH! YOU’RE GOING TO EAT IT WHEN IT HAS THAT GLUTTONOUS BEAST’S FOOT COOTIES?!?”

“Sure, we’ll just cut around it,” you replied, not sounding too confident after his description.

“more protein,” added Sans.

“SANS, DON’T BE GROSS!”

You all ended up eating the quiche, which Papyrus complimented liberally despite his initial aversion, and supplemented your meager meal with the extra rolls that hadn’t made their way out of the kitchen yet. It wasn’t the traditional feast you’d planned, but it was at least memorable.

After the mess was cleaned up, you all changed into cozy pajamas and cuddled on the couch to watch “A Christmas Story.”

“HMM,” Papyrus mused after one part. “IF THAT’S HOW THE HUMAN SANTA TREATS CHILDREN, I’M NOT SURE I WANT TO RECEIVE GIFTS FROM HIM…”

“That’s just a mall Santa, Paps,” you said behind a yawn. “The real Santa’s nicer. Right, Sans?”

But Sans was fast asleep against your shoulder. That was too bad. You thought he’d get a kick out of this movie, but now he was going to miss the best parts. With the long day you’d had, it wasn’t long before you, too, were dozing off.

~~~~~~~~~~

You awoke to the television turned off and blanket stretched over you. A warm skeleton was snoring as he cuddled you from behind. Looking about, Papyrus was nowhere to be found.

“Sans,” you whispered.

No reply.

“Sans, hey! We’ve gotta put out the presents.”

There was stirring, and then, “five more minutes, mom.”

You practically leapt off the couch, facing him with a frown. “What?”

He chuckled at your reaction and proceeded to stretch and yawn. “i’ll go get the stash then.”

The “stash” was hidden in Sans’s closet, probably the one place his brother wouldn’t dare go.

While you waited, you took a moment to admire their Christmas tree. Colorful lights twinkled off glittery ornaments, casting a soft, festive glow into the room. You remembered helping to decorate it a few weeks ago. Papyrus hung most of the ones up high since he could reach, and Sans… had mostly watched. He opted to coordinate which ornaments went where so no two of the same were too close to each other. His opinion wasn’t much called upon. Silly goof. You smiled fondly at the memory.

Sans appeared next to you holding a large, bulky trash bag.

“sansta claus reporting for duty,” he said.

“Pffft, dork,” you snorted, reaching inside the bag to grab a present.

“mmm, you shouldn’t call sansta that.”

“I do what I want,” you giggled, placing the present under the tree.

“that’s naughty, and you know what naughty children get.” He wiggled his browbones.

“Why, Sansta!” You feigned shock. “First you call me ‘mom’ and then you flirt with me? I think you’re the naughty one.”

Caught off guard, he struggled to keep his laughter at a low volume. “ya got me there. but seriously—” he pulled a small package out of his jacket pocket—"this is for you.”

You looked at the carefully wrapped box in front of you. “I can’t open that, silly,” you said. “It’s not Christmas yet.”

“that clock says it is.” He nodded to the timepiece on the wall, which read “3:07.”

You smiled wryly. “Alright, fine.” Taking the little box, you gave it a gentle shake. “It’s the key to a new Lamborghini!”

“ha! nope.”

“Oh, sorry. A yacht.”

“how could i have fit a whole yacht in there?”

“The key to one, geez,” you smiled, giving his shoulder a nudge.

“just open it,” he chuckled.

You carefully peeled back the paper so as not to rip it, and then neatly folded it up. “That’s quality paper. Gotta save it for later.”

He rolled his eyelights at you good-naturedly.

Lifting the lid to the box, you saw a smooth, black heart attached to a silver chain.

“Is this coal?” you asked, eyes widening. “Woah.” You pulled it out and held it up to get a better look.

“kinda. it’s called jet. it’s supposed to have useful properties.”

“Wow, thank you, Sans,” you said, admiring the pendant. He remembered you were into that kind of stuff. “That’s really thoughtful.”

“here, lemme put it on for ya,” he said, turning you around. Taking the necklace, he moved your hair to one side and clasped it around your neck. He turned you back around. “there. beautiful.”

You beamed up at him. “I have a present I want you to open now, too.” You shuffled around in the bag a minute before finding it. “I think Papyrus might be a little… disappointed with me if he saw it.”

Sans raised a browbone and proceeded to unwrap the package. “ha! i thought ya said you didn’t want to support my addiction.” He held up a ketchup dispenser in the shape of a gun, smiling widely.

“Yeah, well, I figured it’d be more amusing to watch you drink it this way,” you said.

“heheh! yeah, i bet it will be!” He examined his gift once more. “and you’re probably right about my bro. you’d never hear the end if he knew you gave it to me.”

“Speaking of,” you said, “we should finish putting out these presents before he wakes up. He’s such an early bird.”

He nodded, then stepped closer to wrap you in an embrace. “merry christmas, y/n.” He pressed his teeth to your hair.

You stood there a moment, enjoying the warm and intimacy of the moment. “Merry Christmas, Sans.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Here’s a link to the ketchup gun if you were curious: https://laughingsquid.com/condiment-gun-shoots-out-ketchup-and-mustard/

[scarytinyturtlebutt]

Merry (late) Christmas from your Secret Santa!!! I hope this short story is alright! Let me know whatcha think! :D 

This is for the @undertalesecretsanta event

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“What do you guys usually eat for Christmas?” you asked Sans as you grabbed a can off the grocery shelf.

“well,” he chuckled, “this is our first christmas, so technically nothing.”

“Oh, right.” Monsters had only been on the surface for two years. Sans had explained they hadn’t yet tried or integrated many human traditions into their own yet, even though some of theirs were very similar. “Then what do you usually eat for Gyftmas?”

“whatever paps wants,” he shrugged, moving to stand on the bottom rack of the cart, leaning his torso over the handle. “it’s different every time.”

“Like what? I need specifics.” You walked further down the isle, pulling both cart and lazy bones with you.

“one time we had a pancake and hot chocolate bar, another time we had oatmeal with those little dinosaur eggs…”

“I sense a theme here,” you said, raising an amused eyebrow.

“heh, yeah. paps says it’s the only time of the year that breakfast for dinner is okay.”  

“Hmm,” you mused as you scanned the shelves for anything else you might want. You and Sans hadn’t come prepared with a list, planning to figure it out as you went. Not seeing anything in this section, you pulled the cart onward. “Maybe we’ll have to add some kind of breakfast food to our feast then. Any suggestions?”

Sans thought for a moment. “what other foods are ya making?”

You started listing them off on your fingers. “Turkey, stuffing, rolls, mashed potatoes. A few other things I haven’t decided.”

“savory stuff, huh? maybe a quiche, then? papyrus likes those.”

“Ooh, perfect!” Your eyes lit up. “I know a great recipe.”

“goes good with ketchup, too.” He flashed a mischievous grin as he leaned off the moving cart to snag a giant bottle of the stuff.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. “You’re buying that separate. I refuse to pay for your unholy addiction.”

“i can quit anytime.”

“Yeah right,” you snorted. “Right after I quit my sleeping addiction.”

“hey, papyrus quit his.” He winked. “anything is possible.”

You stopped walking to grab a few spices. Then you looked him straight in the eyelights, deadpan expression. “Monkey-walrus hybrids wearing nothing but potato skins and living on the sun in cotton huts.”

His browbone contorted in deep confusion. “what the hell did you just say to me?”

“Not everything is possible.” You gave him the widest, shit-eating grin you could.

“i think you need to get checked out,” he smirked back.

“Okay. Right after you get your addiction checked out.”

“maybe we should just check out of this store.”

“As soon as I check out this sale over here.”

“in the meantime, i’ll be checking you out.”

“Ooookay. Time to check out of this conversation.”

“does that mean i win? checkmate.”

“I’m legit done with this now,” you laughed. “No more!”

“sue me. i’ll write a check.”

“Noooo! Sans!” You started walking away.

He followed with the cart. “check. chhheck. check. hm. sounds weird now.”

“Why did I ever agree to date you?” you huffed.

“ditto, ms. monkey-walrus hybrid,” he grinned, an amorous sparkle in his eye.

Unable to hide your own smile, you shook your head and replied, “Let’s just go pick out a turkey, bonehead.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day was Christmas Eve. You headed over to the skeleton brothers’ house in the late morning to start working on dinner. Usually your big feast was on Christmas itself, but the monster queen Toriel was hosting a huge party that day and you’d all been invited. Since Sans and Papyrus had never had an authentic human Christmas before, you decided it was your duty this year to make sure they did. This was one of the best times of the year, after all. It would be a crime not to experience it in full.

Papyrus answered the door, as per usual.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE, HUMAN!!” he shouted.

“Merry Christmas Eve, Papyrus,” you nodded as you stepped over the threshold. 

“I CAN’T WAIT TO START THE FEAST PREPARATIONS!! THIS IS GOING TO BE SO INTERESTING!” he said as he followed you into the kitchen.

“Haha, yes,” you smiled, eyeing him a little nervously as he began to pull out the ingredients you’d bought the day before. “Just remember that I’m the Master Chef today, young Padawan.”

He paused a moment to shoot you a confused glance. “OH, THAT’S THE WARRING STARS REFERENCE… YES!! I WILL DO EXACTLY AS YOU INSTRUCT!”

“Good,” you chuckled. “First we should start on the pies.”

“this looks like a pie-ne time to join,” said Sans, peeking around the corner.

“Oh, hey! You want to help, too?” you asked hopefully.

“nope,” he grinned, taking a seat on one of the counter stools. “by join i meant watch.”

“And nap on all of our counter space,” you said wryly.

The day went by rather quickly with all the cooking and baking. All the previous cooking lessons you’d given Papyrus had paid off, evidenced by the minimal burnt dishes. Sans had been a bit of a butt, hiding things you were using when your back was turned (you suspect he’d been bored). But all in all, everything had turned out just fine.

After the table was set, you all sat down together to eat.

“so, uh,” sans started, “is there something we say before we eat?”

You paused in the middle of lifting a knife. “Like what?”

“i dunno, like ‘merry christmas, let’s eat?’” He shrugged.

“You said it then. Let’s eat!”

“AGREED!!” Papyrus chimed in.

Just as you were about to carve yourself some turkey, a flash of white zipped across the table, grabbing the bird by it’s leg and dragging it just as quickly over the other dishes. Bowls were tipped and flipped, splattering food and juices across the tablecloth.

“STOP THAT DOG!!” Papyrus leapt onto the table in pursuit, only creating a larger mess.

It all happened so quickly that you barely had time to register. You just stared as a glob of mashed potatoes smacking onto the front of your shirt. Turning to Sans, you saw his grin tighten as he leaned to rest his forehead on the table. The sounds of an angry Papyrus started to fade out through the front door.

“What the—why was—who let—the food—friggin’…” Your strained mutterings trailed off in an exasperated whine. You could feel hot tears begin to form as you took in the sight before you. “All of our hard work…”

“i’m sorry y/n,” Sans said, placing a hand on your back.

“What’re we going to do now?” Your voice shook, and you turned to look at him. When you saw his face, your eyes went wide.

“what?” he said, feigning innocence. “my bones felt a little dry. thought they could use some moisturizing.” His cheekbones were coated in a nice layer of gravy that was slowly dripping down his jaw.

The ridiculousness of it, paired with the ridiculousness of this whole ordeal… you really wanted to cry, but you couldn’t help the hysterical laughter that erupted from your mouth. Your doubled over in your chair, mirthful tears replacing sad ones. You heard Sans emitting similar levitous sounds next to you. This totally sucked, but it was going to be alright.

When Papyrus came back empty-handed a few minutes later, you two were still cracking up.

“WHAT IS SO FUNNY?” he asked, visibly fuming. “THAT DOG’S ENJOYING OUR FOOD SOMEWHERE, AND HE DOESN’T EVEN PAY RENT!!”

“It’s okay, Papyrus,” you managed to say while catching your breath. “We can figure something else out.”

“BUT ALL OF OUR KITCHENING HAS BEEN WASTED!”

“’kitchening?’” Sans smirked.

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!”

“Hey, I think the quiche is still salvageable,” you said, pointing to a round dish off in the corner of the table. There was a small paw print decorating the center of its golden-brown top.

“well that’s a pawsitive,” Sans snickered.

“EUGH! YOU’RE GOING TO EAT IT WHEN IT HAS THAT GLUTTONOUS BEAST’S FOOT COOTIES?!?”

“Sure, we’ll just cut around it,” you replied, not sounding too confident after his description.

“more protein,” added Sans.

“SANS, DON’T BE GROSS!”

You all ended up eating the quiche, which Papyrus complimented liberally despite his initial aversion, and supplemented your meager meal with the extra rolls that hadn’t made their way out of the kitchen yet. It wasn’t the traditional feast you’d planned, but it was at least memorable.

After the mess was cleaned up, you all changed into cozy pajamas and cuddled on the couch to watch “A Christmas Story.”

“HMM,” Papyrus mused after one part. “IF THAT’S HOW THE HUMAN SANTA TREATS CHILDREN, I’M NOT SURE I WANT TO RECEIVE GIFTS FROM HIM…”

“That’s just a mall Santa, Paps,” you said behind a yawn. “The real Santa’s nicer. Right, Sans?”

But Sans was fast asleep against your shoulder. That was too bad. You thought he’d get a kick out of this movie, but now he was going to miss the best parts. With the long day you’d had, it wasn’t long before you, too, were dozing off.

~~~~~~~~~~

You awoke to the television turned off and blanket stretched over you. A warm skeleton was snoring as he cuddled you from behind. Looking about, Papyrus was nowhere to be found.

“Sans,” you whispered.

No reply.

“Sans, hey! We’ve gotta put out the presents.”

There was stirring, and then, “five more minutes, mom.”

You practically leapt off the couch, facing him with a frown. “What?”

He chuckled at your reaction and proceeded to stretch and yawn. “i’ll go get the stash then.”

The “stash” was hidden in Sans’s closet, probably the one place his brother wouldn’t dare go.

While you waited, you took a moment to admire their Christmas tree. Colorful lights twinkled off glittery ornaments, casting a soft, festive glow into the room. You remembered helping to decorate it a few weeks ago. Papyrus hung most of the ones up high since he could reach, and Sans… had mostly watched. He opted to coordinate which ornaments went where so no two of the same were too close to each other. His opinion wasn’t much called upon. Silly goof. You smiled fondly at the memory.

Sans appeared next to you holding a large, bulky trash bag.

“sansta claus reporting for duty,” he said.

“Pffft, dork,” you snorted, reaching inside the bag to grab a present.

“mmm, you shouldn’t call sansta that.”

“I do what I want,” you giggled, placing the present under the tree.

“that’s naughty, and you know what naughty children get.” He wiggled his browbones.

“Why, Sansta!” You feigned shock. “First you call me ‘mom’ and then you flirt with me? I think you’re the naughty one.”

Caught off guard, he struggled to keep his laughter at a low volume. “ya got me there. but seriously—” he pulled a small package out of his jacket pocket—"this is for you.”

You looked at the carefully wrapped box in front of you. “I can’t open that, silly,” you said. “It’s not Christmas yet.”

“that clock says it is.” He nodded to the timepiece on the wall, which read “3:07.”

You smiled wryly. “Alright, fine.” Taking the little box, you gave it a gentle shake. “It’s the key to a new Lamborghini!”

“ha! nope.”

“Oh, sorry. A yacht.”

“how could i have fit a whole yacht in there?”

“The key to one, geez,” you smiled, giving his shoulder a nudge.

“just open it,” he chuckled.

You carefully peeled back the paper so as not to rip it, and then neatly folded it up. “That’s quality paper. Gotta save it for later.”

He rolled his eyelights at you good-naturedly.

Lifting the lid to the box, you saw a smooth, black heart attached to a silver chain.

“Is this coal?” you asked, eyes widening. “Woah.” You pulled it out and held it up to get a better look.

“kinda. it’s called jet. it’s supposed to have useful properties.”

“Wow, thank you, Sans,” you said, admiring the pendant. He remembered you were into that kind of stuff. “That’s really thoughtful.”

“here, lemme put it on for ya,” he said, turning you around. Taking the necklace, he moved your hair to one side and clasped it around your neck. He turned you back around. “there. beautiful.”

You beamed up at him. “I have a present I want you to open now, too.” You shuffled around in the bag a minute before finding it. “I think Papyrus might be a little… disappointed with me if he saw it.”

Sans raised a browbone and proceeded to unwrap the package. “ha! i thought ya said you didn’t want to support my addiction.” He held up a ketchup dispenser in the shape of a gun, smiling widely.

“Yeah, well, I figured it’d be more amusing to watch you drink it this way,” you said.

“heheh! yeah, i bet it will be!” He examined his gift once more. “and you’re probably right about my bro. you’d never hear the end if he knew you gave it to me.”

“Speaking of,” you said, “we should finish putting out these presents before he wakes up. He’s such an early bird.”

He nodded, then stepped closer to wrap you in an embrace. “merry christmas, y/n.” He pressed his teeth to your hair.

You stood there a moment, enjoying the warm and intimacy of the moment. “Merry Christmas, Sans.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Here’s a link to the ketchup gun if you were curious: https://laughingsquid.com/condiment-gun-shoots-out-ketchup-and-mustard/

______

Oh my gosh, this is so nice. Thank you so much!!! Sans and Reader seem really sweet and relaxed with each other. That ketchup gun is a total riot. xD I really like how you wrote the playful banter. I’m all about that stuff, and it was so nice. It just has a really soft and warm feeling. <3

I was really D: when that dog nabbed everything, but hopefully since they’re a monster they won’t try eating the turkey’s bones. Bird bones shatter since they’re hollow and can get lodged in dog throats. If they’re smart enough to nab everything at once, they should be smart enough not to do that?

I’m completely on the same page as Papyrus. Breakfast food is the BEST. :D Thanks again! This is such a sweet story!

[sashagilljournalist]

The Great Potato Showdown

The humble potato – I have often been enraptured by how it is magically transformed, be it by heat or by method, into a multitude of different dishes. Fried, mashed, scalloped, baked… is there truly one best way to serve a potato? So, I set out to make a list of them all, which – as a disclaimer – is highly biased to this individual. 

While the potato is too various in its incarnations for this to be an exhaustive list, I have tried to, where possible, group together those from the same family. Is a rosti truly a type of hash brown? Potato purist – do not come for me. I am just a girl trying to pit her favourite potato dishes against each other to decide what to do with the glut of potatoes languishing on my kitchen counter.

Mash To ease us into our Great Potato Showdown – the mash. A large part of eating, for me, is textural. Sure, taste plays a part too. But in what universe would a combination of potato, butter, salt and cheese not taste of enduring bliss? My issue with a mash, is that often it is just that – potatoes turned silky soft without the slightest bit of crunch. That is, until I discovered a version that the Bon Appetit test kitchen chefs developed: your classic mash, garnished with a fried mélange of breadcrumbs, garlic, and potato crisps. The perfect textural counterpoint to the velvety mash. I implore you to try it, for even when drowned in gravy, the crisp shines through. To avoid your mash turning viscously glue-y, you want a floury potato – a Yukon gold or russet is ideal. Waxier potatoes turn glossy and paste-like. Suboptimal.

Roast I wasn’t the biggest fan of roast potatoes until I discovered that there was a method to its madness. You can’t simply toss them in a fat, salt liberally and leave the oven to do the rest of the work. And since altering my roast-potatoes-ways, I see what the fuss is all about. You should pre-cook them in water (heavily salted – like the ocean), drain, shake them with all your might in a covered bowl until their surface turns rough and fluffy. This is the key for creating the peaks that turn gloriously caramelised and crunchy under the heat. Toss them in about a tablespoon of flour for an added layer of crunch, then toss in goose fat. Now, I admit – as a vegetarian, I have never had them in goose or duck fat, and olive oil imparts too much of its herbal flavour for it to be a fair comparison. I am simply adding it here as it is traditional, although I can personally vouch for a roast potato augmented with a good glug of olive oil, tufts of thyme and rosemary sprigs. As a bonus  - tethering the line between a mash and a roast - skip the toss-in-a-bowl faff and simply smash them on a baking tray with the bottom of a glass, forming little discs of smashed potato that will happily drink up whatever you season them with.

Fries I think I can safely say that there is not a person on earth who truly dislikes fries. Anyone else is simply kidding themselves. There is a certain kind of joy you get from shoving fistfuls of glistening, hot batons of salty potato into your mouth after a night out. But fries themselves come in all shapes and sizes. Thick cut, shoestring, home-style, sweet potato, curly, waffle… there isn’t a single one I have not imagined myself eloping with and living out the remainder of our lives in wedded bliss. Although, if we are naming names… shoestring – what are you about? I need more substance. While I am an advocate for all forms of fries, I cannot begin to tell you how much better they are with a bit more seasoning. Salt is great, but have you ever tried them with smoked paprika, rosemary, or (for the adventurous) shredded bits of seaweed? Phenomenal. I just wish seasoned fries were more of a thing when eating out, for frying my own in a wok full of glistening oil sounds like a recipe for disaster (and third-degree burns).

Jacket The ultimate childhood go-to meal. Bake a potato until its skin shrivels and starts to pull away, slice open, slip in a knob of butter and let the residual heat burst forth and melt it. The magic of the jacket potato lies in how infinitely customisable it is, and so in my family was always the perfect way to solve a squabble between the vastly differing palates of its members. Heinz baked beans was a favourite, always, topped with slivers of spring onion for brightness (and, for me, a bit of sophistication). Tuna mayo was a no-go, although given how popular it is as a jacket potato filling I imagine I am one of the few who despises anything abbreviated with ‘mayo’. While my affection for this is 90% nostalgia, and it isn’t that great in the grand scheme of things, I will admit that it is a perfect student meal. It has served me well, especially when I was kitchen-less for the grand part of two years. Simply pierce a potato with the tines of a fork and microwave for 8 minutes on high, flipping it over halfway.

Scalloped Potatoes (in its many variations) At its very basic (but never to be underestimated), you have Pommes Anna – scalloped and left to luxuriate in butter. When it is augmented with cream, you get a Dauphinoise, and if tossed in cheese and provided with a breadcrumb roof - Au gratin. All these cousins are ultimately made of a base of shingled potatoes. While these all have the makings of a fabulous potato number, I have often been served some that fall short. In a similar strand as my issue with a mash, texture is often the downfall. Potatoes are sliced into thin, even discs and arranged (often quite beautifully) in a baking dish. And while they might win in terms of aesthetic points, you are sometimes left feeling a bit lacking. This is where Au Gratin reigns supreme, for its roof of breadcrumbs shatters so satisfyingly when you tuck into it, and adds a delightful crunch amidst all the velvety potato fluff.

Gnocchi A weird flex, perhaps, because in the list of best potato dishes gnocchi would rarely occur to you. But I used to help my mother mash potatoes, stir them with egg and flour, and roll them into balls by pressing them up against the tines of a fork. potato and gnocchi, to me, are inextricably linked. Now, I am not the biggest fan of pasta. And while my admission of this might lead you to want to discredit my opinion of anything food-based, I did grow up in Asia. For me, a bowl of sesame noodles will always trump a spag bol. However, if gnocchi is in the equation (for it is, ultimately, a type of pasta), I would happily jettison the noodles for these little dough dumplings. I love how supple they are, their bounce, their chew. Although (in a true Ina Garten form) I vehemently believe that store-bought can never measure up to homemade. They do not need to look as pretty, or indeed as uniform, as those you can get in a plastic bag in Tesco. But trust me, they are far more favourable in texture.

Hash Browns It seems like every culture has their own spin on grated-and-subsequently-fried potatoes. Here, we have our adored hash browns. The Swiss have the Rosti – spread out whisper-thin across a skillet. In Jewish cuisine – Latkes, made with the addition of egg and matzo meal to help with binding. Tater tots, little cylinders of fried shredded potatoes, in America. And I have been very disappointed by how next-to-impossible these tots are to find here in the UK. I love them. As far as texture goes – we are on to a winner here. The exterior crisps up gorgeously, leaving the fluffy strands of potato in the middle. When you bite into them, crunch gives way to clouds. I now make my hash browns in a waffle maker. If you, like me, belong to the group of students who have a ridiculous number of one-use kitchen gadgets – here is how to turn your waffle maker into a two-use-cooking-machine. Grate a few potatoes – the floury type is ideal, place them in a dish towel and wring them up to extract as much moisture as you can manage. Decant the potato strands into a bowl, and add in some salt, pepper, a spoonful or flour, and if you eat eggs – one here can help them with binding. I manage perfectly fine without. Preheat your waffle maker, divide the potato mixture between the divots. Cook them according to your waffle maker’s instructions. I like to treat mine as you would a mash (i.e. drowned in gravy), but you could each eat them as is, or topped with applesauce or sour cream.

But alas! This whole exercise would be pointless if I didn’t choose a favourite, but this is no easy task – there is a reason the potato is so widely adored, for it has the ability to take on many different forms, a plethora of different flavours, and still delight. The choice is often one of personal preference, so while I have (with much anguish) decided to settle in for a dinner of hash browns (made in my waffle maker), Linda Mccartney sausages and an avalanche of gravy, it does not mean that the hash brown is superior. Go forth and decide what to do with the next potato you happen upon in your produce drawer.

The Spanish tortilla, potato crisps (!!), regal duchess potatoes, fondant potatoes that seem to sublimate in your mouth, satisfyingly-striped Hassel back potatoes… it seems like a wonderful, starch-saturated abyss to be in. But in an effort to keep to a word count (and for the sake of my sanity), many other potato incarnations have been left unexplored. And for that, I apologise. There is a whole world of potatoes out there, and I, for one, have never been more ready for it.

Image Credit: Souse Vide Guy

Originally Published in The Oxford Student, 31st Jan 2020

[lenakrruger]

Recipes for Realtors: Stewed prunes, oxtails and oranges

I was rearranging my pantry shelf, and it’s a rare thing to find things in tins, but I came across a large container of preserved prunes. And I decided it was time to use them again. This is a quick and easy sauce to make and it keeps well in a glass-covered container in the fridge for several days.

Remove the prunes using a strainer or a slotted spoon and put the liquid into a saucepan. Measure the liquid and add half as much granulated sugar and a cup of Offley Ruby Port.

[banner]

Bring it to a gentle simmer and reduce by a third. Stir well with a wooden spoon to incorporate the sugar. Mash the moisture-filled prunes or pulse coarsely. Add a pinch of salt.

Stir the mashed prunes into the reduced sauce pot, on simmer. Squeeze the juice of a fresh sweet orange into the pot and add orange segments from another whole orange, cut from between the membranes.

You could add the zest of a fresh orange or mince a few rinds from your candied citrus sugar jar to finish the sauce, just when ready to serve.

Alternate: You might consider adding a large dollop of sour cream to the port sauce; if you do, do not reheat. The sauce will separate. Just gently fold in the sour cream at the last minute and serve.

Remove the cooked oxtails from their cooking pot (see below), using a spider spoon, and cover with the port prune sauce on a serving platter. Gourmet at its best.

This sauce can also be used over top of pan-fried pork loin medallions (you can substitute veal medallions) or over centre-cut grilled thick pork chops. It’s a wonderful accompaniment to roasted whole unstuffed rock Cornish hens that have been roasted with my kumquat marmalade spread over the birds in the last few minutes of roasting. Or, use this prune port sauce with pan-fried duck breast, served medium rare, or over my turkey roll recipe at this link.

Paired with a citrus panna cotta or citrus zabaglione, made with minced rind from your pantry citrus sugar jar, you could even serve dessert in a matching puddle of your main course port prune sauce (save a bit before you add the oxtails). You might top a martini glass of the pudding with a dollop of Port Chantilly Crème (the kind used as filling for my Bird’s Nest Pavlova recipe). Or, top an espresso with a tiny spoon of the ruby port cream.

Suggested pairing: Offley Ruby Port. Let it breathe. Serve at a cool room temperature from a narrow neck decanter or directly from its bottle, chilled just a bit.

Another idea: Drizzle the prune port sauce on my grilled goat cheese spinach sandwich recipe you can find here. Scroll down to comments for Grilled Goat Cheese Spinach Sandwich Special (and so much more …)

Or, enjoy the sauce on an open face grilled brown bread slice, topped with thinly sliced roasted turkey and crispy bacon. Very yummy, either way. Note: if you have found a place to buy English bloomer bread that is very popular in U.K., it grills wonderfully. It’s also perfect to serve with scrambled eggs and smoked salmon at breakfast.

Asbach oxtails

In a heavy, coated, cast-iron pot, sauté oxtails in hot butter until brown. Add salt, pepper, Italian seasoning and a sprig of dry, fresh thyme. When cooked, add a little chopped parsley.

Add the following to the pot, then cover: Sweat a large Spanish onion, chopped medium fine; three celery sticks, chopped small but coarse; three carrots, large, cut in pennies on the diagonal.

Add one quart (four cups) of homemade chicken stock and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down. Simmer two hours. During the last half hour of cooking, add a quarter cup of Asbach brandy. Reduce. Sauce will thicken slightly.

You can serve the oxtails dish at this stage. Or, you can remove the oxtails so they don’t continue cooking (don’t overcook the meat) and add half and half cream. Bring to a boil, turn down the heat (don’t cover the pot) and reduce just slightly.

Serve over whipped, mashed potatoes, wide egg noodles or Basmati rice. Also good with crepes. Fill the crepes with the oxtails and serve the crepes in a reduced puddle of the natural sauce or the cream sauce, with the veggies on the plate pushed to the side.

If you have never eaten oxtails, you are missing out on a wonderful dish; but bear in mind, this is exceptionally rich and will be a great surprise for guests, too.

A different approach: Using either method, right at the end, add a tin of whole tomatoes and liquid; break up the tomatoes just a little.

Then, if you would rather have oxtail tomato soup, add another quart of homemade chicken stock. Bring to a boil, turn down heat and serve. When ready to serve, top each individual serving with a few shavings of frozen Asbach butter from your always at-the-ready freezer supply. Do not stir. Just let the compound butter melt.

More amazing oxtails: Hungarian oxtail goulash

Prepare as above: Let the meat fall off the bones; pull apart the meat using two forks. Reduce the sauce a little on low heat.

Check seasoning. Adjust salt, pepper and add a heaping tablespoon of Hungarian sweet paprika (not the smoky version, unless that is your personal preference). Gently fold in, just before serving, a large scoop of firm full fat sour cream. Do not reheat after adding the sour cream. Keep the cooking pan hot, covered until serving.

Serve the Hungarian oxtail goulash in a large family-style presentation in a large deep platter, along with a bed of my homemade sauerkraut. This works well as a side dish with plain breaded Wiener schnitzel or breaded chicken cutlets or pork cutlets and a generous serving of homemade egg noodles or spaetzle.

A word about food storage spaces

If you live near a grocery store or market, go in off-hours when checkout lines are less likely to be busy. And go more often. Most people never have enough refrigerator space no matter how big the fridge is, and kitchen cabinet space is often at a premium.

The luxury of having a separate pantry is just that. Unless you have one set, dedicated cabinet for food storage items, it’s better to shop frequently. It’s never a long walk to the basement and a worthwhile investment to put dedicated shelving in place for things best kept in a cool dark place.

Many Italian-built homes have a cantina. It’s not a real cantina unless it has an open air-exchange hole (as a listing rep be careful how you identify that space; you could find yourself paying to modify it). But nonetheless it is a cold room. But be careful about condensation accumulating. Keep an eye open for mould. That is never acceptable.

Back in the pre-war days, and even sometimes after, one could find dedicated giant storage bins in house basements, under a removable basement window, allowing those who grew their own potatoes and root vegetables a means of putting a slide in place and loading wagon-loads of veggies onto slides that delivered the homegrown wonders right to the storage bins, where they provided family food all through the off-seasons. Bins were made from bug-free woods, never from shipping skids that might carry uninvited guests in transit.

Some people who didn’t have open-slat wooden basement bins used open hemp sacks for storage. The coal or wood-fired furnace was often in the basement, so that kept any dampness at bay. In Canada, many basement areas had earthen floors.

Although the European immigrants brought their wonderful recipes from overseas with them, some foodstuffs really are international. Made with a local twist. Here is a good example.

Stale bread Austrian-style dumplings 

This is another wartime and post-wartime dish. Today we are still in a war – against food pricing and waste.

Bread is bread wherever you go or wherever you live. For these wonderful bread dumplings, you can use almost any bread. It just so happens the dumplings are still a staple in Northern Italy and Austria. And a particular favourite, too, among travellers to the region.

Don’t waste those easily dried out baguettes or rolls that become rock hard, almost impossible to bring back to life: French, Italian or Portuguese. Put the dried-out bread in a large plastic bag, lay a clean lightweight tea towel over it, and using your meat pounder hammer, smash the dried bread into large pieces.

Place the bread chunks into a large glass bowl. Just barely cover with half and half cream. The bread will expand as it absorbs the liquid. Let the bread sit for a few hours. You don’t want the bread soggy. Just moist.

Regular readers might notice I rarely use milk in my recipes. I don’t drink milk and haven’t since I was preschool when I was forced to drink milk that was “off”. I could never bring myself to drink it again, although very occasionally I would succumb to a hot chocolate or a milkshake. To me, ever after, milk tastes like whatever the cow had eaten, so I simply avoided it completely. Milk is full of natural sugars. Cream is not. Fat, yes. Sugar, no.

Now for these dumplings some people use flour as a binder. For an exception, perhaps use almonds or hazelnuts that have been ground to a powder flour-like texture. For six cups of soaked moistened bread, use about three-quarters cup of ground nuts (or flour). Whisk a large fresh egg and mix into the moistened bread. Sprinkle with minced fresh parsley and fresh lemon thyme. Grate a little fresh nutmeg into the mix and a little salt and pepper.

Now for the special touch: add a half cup of my special minced spinach mix from your fridge or thawed overnight freezer storage. But use spinach to which you have added chopped crispy bacon (not store-bought bacon bits).

To see my spinach special recipe scroll down to the sandwich comments here.

The dumplings need to be a generous size, about the size of a cup. Roll scoops of the bread mixture in your dry floured hands to form a ball shape. Dredge in seasoned flour. Cover on a tray with a clean tea towel.

Gently poach the bread dumplings in a large uncovered pot of simmering homemade chicken broth, perhaps for six minutes. Using a spider spoon, gently move the dumplings around in the broth. Do not overcook them.

Pull the dumplings apart into two pieces using two forks and sprinkle with Parmesan and serve alongside my Tiroler mushroom and cheese-filled Wiener schnitzel and spaetzle with a side of my special red cabbage or homemade sauerkraut. The dumplings are also a wonderful side with my sacrilegious Shiraz veal or with my delicious oxtail goulash.

This is a hungry-man meal for sure.

Any leftover dumplings can be sliced about a half-inch thick the next day and reheated quickly in sizzling butter and served with sugared carrots and blanched sweet peas or minty mushy peas.

Alternate: Mince white button mushrooms and minced onion, equal parts. Just sauté once over lightly in sizzling butter, cool slightly and add a little to the moist bread mix. With or without the spinach mix.

Another alternate: Coarsely chop cooked lobster claw meat and mix into the bread dumpling mix. You can keep on hand a flash frozen tin of lobster for this purpose (thaw and squeeze out the liquid; freeze the liquid and save for another recipe) or buy ready-cooked lobster claw packages. Add a little minced fresh tarragon. Poach the dumplings in chicken stock or homemade fish stock.

When ready to serve, spritz with homemade lobster oil or melt a lobster compound butter puck from your stored log and pour over each melt-in-your-mouth seafood dumpling.

Serve the large dumplings as a side, with a tiny drizzle of Petite Maison white truffle Dijon, with a generous bowl of thick Canadian seafood chowder or lobster bisque.

Plums up! Or figgy dumplings. 

Prepare the bread dumplings using cognac marinated plums or black mission figs, finely chopped (squeeze out excess liquid) and drizzle each dumpling with a little Chantilly Cream and offer a starter as a unique large amuse bouche.

There’s nothing difficult about preparing your meals in a gourmet fashion as a home cook. As my readers know, nothing goes to waste in my kitchen. And busy Realtors have to eat, so cooking at home actually saves time because you have an opportunity to multi-task. It’s simply a matter of being organized – mis en place. Just like at the office.

© “From Lady Ralston’s Kitchen: A Canadian Contessa Cooks” Turning everyday meal making into a Gourmet Experience

The post Recipes for Realtors: Stewed prunes, oxtails and oranges appeared first on REM | Real Estate Magazine.

Recipes for Realtors: Stewed prunes, oxtails and oranges published first on https://grandeurparkcondo.tumblr.com/

[felishasheats]

Recipes for Realtors: Stewed prunes, oxtails and oranges

I was rearranging my pantry shelf, and it’s a rare thing to find things in tins, but I came across a large container of preserved prunes. And I decided it was time to use them again. This is a quick and easy sauce to make and it keeps well in a glass-covered container in the fridge for several days.

Remove the prunes using a strainer or a slotted spoon and put the liquid into a saucepan. Measure the liquid and add half as much granulated sugar and a cup of Offley Ruby Port.

[banner]

Bring it to a gentle simmer and reduce by a third. Stir well with a wooden spoon to incorporate the sugar. Mash the moisture-filled prunes or pulse coarsely. Add a pinch of salt.

Stir the mashed prunes into the reduced sauce pot, on simmer. Squeeze the juice of a fresh sweet orange into the pot and add orange segments from another whole orange, cut from between the membranes.

You could add the zest of a fresh orange or mince a few rinds from your candied citrus sugar jar to finish the sauce, just when ready to serve.

Alternate: You might consider adding a large dollop of sour cream to the port sauce; if you do, do not reheat. The sauce will separate. Just gently fold in the sour cream at the last minute and serve.

Remove the cooked oxtails from their cooking pot (see below), using a spider spoon, and cover with the port prune sauce on a serving platter. Gourmet at its best.

This sauce can also be used over top of pan-fried pork loin medallions (you can substitute veal medallions) or over centre-cut grilled thick pork chops. It’s a wonderful accompaniment to roasted whole unstuffed rock Cornish hens that have been roasted with my kumquat marmalade spread over the birds in the last few minutes of roasting. Or, use this prune port sauce with pan-fried duck breast, served medium rare, or over my turkey roll recipe at this link.

Paired with a citrus panna cotta or citrus zabaglione, made with minced rind from your pantry citrus sugar jar, you could even serve dessert in a matching puddle of your main course port prune sauce (save a bit before you add the oxtails). You might top a martini glass of the pudding with a dollop of Port Chantilly Crème (the kind used as filling for my Bird’s Nest Pavlova recipe). Or, top an espresso with a tiny spoon of the ruby port cream.

Suggested pairing: Offley Ruby Port. Let it breathe. Serve at a cool room temperature from a narrow neck decanter or directly from its bottle, chilled just a bit.

Another idea: Drizzle the prune port sauce on my grilled goat cheese spinach sandwich recipe you can find here. Scroll down to comments for Grilled Goat Cheese Spinach Sandwich Special (and so much more …)

Or, enjoy the sauce on an open face grilled brown bread slice, topped with thinly sliced roasted turkey and crispy bacon. Very yummy, either way. Note: if you have found a place to buy English bloomer bread that is very popular in U.K., it grills wonderfully. It’s also perfect to serve with scrambled eggs and smoked salmon at breakfast.

Asbach oxtails

In a heavy, coated, cast-iron pot, sauté oxtails in hot butter until brown. Add salt, pepper, Italian seasoning and a sprig of dry, fresh thyme. When cooked, add a little chopped parsley.

Add the following to the pot, then cover: Sweat a large Spanish onion, chopped medium fine; three celery sticks, chopped small but coarse; three carrots, large, cut in pennies on the diagonal.

Add one quart (four cups) of homemade chicken stock and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down. Simmer two hours. During the last half hour of cooking, add a quarter cup of Asbach brandy. Reduce. Sauce will thicken slightly.

You can serve the oxtails dish at this stage. Or, you can remove the oxtails so they don’t continue cooking (don’t overcook the meat) and add half and half cream. Bring to a boil, turn down the heat (don’t cover the pot) and reduce just slightly.

Serve over whipped, mashed potatoes, wide egg noodles or Basmati rice. Also good with crepes. Fill the crepes with the oxtails and serve the crepes in a reduced puddle of the natural sauce or the cream sauce, with the veggies on the plate pushed to the side.

If you have never eaten oxtails, you are missing out on a wonderful dish; but bear in mind, this is exceptionally rich and will be a great surprise for guests, too.

A different approach: Using either method, right at the end, add a tin of whole tomatoes and liquid; break up the tomatoes just a little.

Then, if you would rather have oxtail tomato soup, add another quart of homemade chicken stock. Bring to a boil, turn down heat and serve. When ready to serve, top each individual serving with a few shavings of frozen Asbach butter from your always at-the-ready freezer supply. Do not stir. Just let the compound butter melt.

More amazing oxtails: Hungarian oxtail goulash

Prepare as above: Let the meat fall off the bones; pull apart the meat using two forks. Reduce the sauce a little on low heat.

Check seasoning. Adjust salt, pepper and add a heaping tablespoon of Hungarian sweet paprika (not the smoky version, unless that is your personal preference). Gently fold in, just before serving, a large scoop of firm full fat sour cream. Do not reheat after adding the sour cream. Keep the cooking pan hot, covered until serving.

Serve the Hungarian oxtail goulash in a large family-style presentation in a large deep platter, along with a bed of my homemade sauerkraut. This works well as a side dish with plain breaded Wiener schnitzel or breaded chicken cutlets or pork cutlets and a generous serving of homemade egg noodles or spaetzle.

A word about food storage spaces

If you live near a grocery store or market, go in off-hours when checkout lines are less likely to be busy. And go more often. Most people never have enough refrigerator space no matter how big the fridge is, and kitchen cabinet space is often at a premium.

The luxury of having a separate pantry is just that. Unless you have one set, dedicated cabinet for food storage items, it’s better to shop frequently. It’s never a long walk to the basement and a worthwhile investment to put dedicated shelving in place for things best kept in a cool dark place.

Many Italian-built homes have a cantina. It’s not a real cantina unless it has an open air-exchange hole (as a listing rep be careful how you identify that space; you could find yourself paying to modify it). But nonetheless it is a cold room. But be careful about condensation accumulating. Keep an eye open for mould. That is never acceptable.

Back in the pre-war days, and even sometimes after, one could find dedicated giant storage bins in house basements, under a removable basement window, allowing those who grew their own potatoes and root vegetables a means of putting a slide in place and loading wagon-loads of veggies onto slides that delivered the homegrown wonders right to the storage bins, where they provided family food all through the off-seasons. Bins were made from bug-free woods, never from shipping skids that might carry uninvited guests in transit.

Some people who didn’t have open-slat wooden basement bins used open hemp sacks for storage. The coal or wood-fired furnace was often in the basement, so that kept any dampness at bay. In Canada, many basement areas had earthen floors.

Although the European immigrants brought their wonderful recipes from overseas with them, some foodstuffs really are international. Made with a local twist. Here is a good example.

Stale bread Austrian-style dumplings 

This is another wartime and post-wartime dish. Today we are still in a war – against food pricing and waste.

Bread is bread wherever you go or wherever you live. For these wonderful bread dumplings, you can use almost any bread. It just so happens the dumplings are still a staple in Northern Italy and Austria. And a particular favourite, too, among travellers to the region.

Don’t waste those easily dried out baguettes or rolls that become rock hard, almost impossible to bring back to life: French, Italian or Portuguese. Put the dried-out bread in a large plastic bag, lay a clean lightweight tea towel over it, and using your meat pounder hammer, smash the dried bread into large pieces.

Place the bread chunks into a large glass bowl. Just barely cover with half and half cream. The bread will expand as it absorbs the liquid. Let the bread sit for a few hours. You don’t want the bread soggy. Just moist.

Regular readers might notice I rarely use milk in my recipes. I don’t drink milk and haven’t since I was preschool when I was forced to drink milk that was “off”. I could never bring myself to drink it again, although very occasionally I would succumb to a hot chocolate or a milkshake. To me, ever after, milk tastes like whatever the cow had eaten, so I simply avoided it completely. Milk is full of natural sugars. Cream is not. Fat, yes. Sugar, no.

Now for these dumplings some people use flour as a binder. For an exception, perhaps use almonds or hazelnuts that have been ground to a powder flour-like texture. For six cups of soaked moistened bread, use about three-quarters cup of ground nuts (or flour). Whisk a large fresh egg and mix into the moistened bread. Sprinkle with minced fresh parsley and fresh lemon thyme. Grate a little fresh nutmeg into the mix and a little salt and pepper.

Now for the special touch: add a half cup of my special minced spinach mix from your fridge or thawed overnight freezer storage. But use spinach to which you have added chopped crispy bacon (not store-bought bacon bits).

To see my spinach special recipe scroll down to the sandwich comments here.

The dumplings need to be a generous size, about the size of a cup. Roll scoops of the bread mixture in your dry floured hands to form a ball shape. Dredge in seasoned flour. Cover on a tray with a clean tea towel.

Gently poach the bread dumplings in a large uncovered pot of simmering homemade chicken broth, perhaps for six minutes. Using a spider spoon, gently move the dumplings around in the broth. Do not overcook them.

Pull the dumplings apart into two pieces using two forks and sprinkle with Parmesan and serve alongside my Tiroler mushroom and cheese-filled Wiener schnitzel and spaetzle with a side of my special red cabbage or homemade sauerkraut. The dumplings are also a wonderful side with my sacrilegious Shiraz veal or with my delicious oxtail goulash.

This is a hungry-man meal for sure.

Any leftover dumplings can be sliced about a half-inch thick the next day and reheated quickly in sizzling butter and served with sugared carrots and blanched sweet peas or minty mushy peas.

Alternate: Mince white button mushrooms and minced onion, equal parts. Just sauté once over lightly in sizzling butter, cool slightly and add a little to the moist bread mix. With or without the spinach mix.

Another alternate: Coarsely chop cooked lobster claw meat and mix into the bread dumpling mix. You can keep on hand a flash frozen tin of lobster for this purpose (thaw and squeeze out the liquid; freeze the liquid and save for another recipe) or buy ready-cooked lobster claw packages. Add a little minced fresh tarragon. Poach the dumplings in chicken stock or homemade fish stock.

When ready to serve, spritz with homemade lobster oil or melt a lobster compound butter puck from your stored log and pour over each melt-in-your-mouth seafood dumpling.

Serve the large dumplings as a side, with a tiny drizzle of Petite Maison white truffle Dijon, with a generous bowl of thick Canadian seafood chowder or lobster bisque.

Plums up! Or figgy dumplings. 

Prepare the bread dumplings using cognac marinated plums or black mission figs, finely chopped (squeeze out excess liquid) and drizzle each dumpling with a little Chantilly Cream and offer a starter as a unique large amuse bouche.

There’s nothing difficult about preparing your meals in a gourmet fashion as a home cook. As my readers know, nothing goes to waste in my kitchen. And busy Realtors have to eat, so cooking at home actually saves time because you have an opportunity to multi-task. It’s simply a matter of being organized – mis en place. Just like at the office.

© “From Lady Ralston’s Kitchen: A Canadian Contessa Cooks” Turning everyday meal making into a Gourmet Experience

The post Recipes for Realtors: Stewed prunes, oxtails and oranges appeared first on REM | Real Estate Magazine.

Recipes for Realtors: Stewed prunes, oxtails and oranges published first on https://oicrealestate.tumblr.com/

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Recipes for Realtors: Stewed prunes, oxtails and oranges

I was rearranging my pantry shelf, and it’s a rare thing to find things in tins, but I came across a large container of preserved prunes. And I decided it was time to use them again. This is a quick and easy sauce to make and it keeps well in a glass-covered container in the fridge for several days.

Remove the prunes using a strainer or a slotted spoon and put the liquid into a saucepan. Measure the liquid and add half as much granulated sugar and a cup of Offley Ruby Port.

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Bring it to a gentle simmer and reduce by a third. Stir well with a wooden spoon to incorporate the sugar. Mash the moisture-filled prunes or pulse coarsely. Add a pinch of salt.

Stir the mashed prunes into the reduced sauce pot, on simmer. Squeeze the juice of a fresh sweet orange into the pot and add orange segments from another whole orange, cut from between the membranes.

You could add the zest of a fresh orange or mince a few rinds from your candied citrus sugar jar to finish the sauce, just when ready to serve.

Alternate: You might consider adding a large dollop of sour cream to the port sauce; if you do, do not reheat. The sauce will separate. Just gently fold in the sour cream at the last minute and serve.

Remove the cooked oxtails from their cooking pot (see below), using a spider spoon, and cover with the port prune sauce on a serving platter. Gourmet at its best.

This sauce can also be used over top of pan-fried pork loin medallions (you can substitute veal medallions) or over centre-cut grilled thick pork chops. It’s a wonderful accompaniment to roasted whole unstuffed rock Cornish hens that have been roasted with my kumquat marmalade spread over the birds in the last few minutes of roasting. Or, use this prune port sauce with pan-fried duck breast, served medium rare, or over my turkey roll recipe at this link.

Paired with a citrus panna cotta or citrus zabaglione, made with minced rind from your pantry citrus sugar jar, you could even serve dessert in a matching puddle of your main course port prune sauce (save a bit before you add the oxtails). You might top a martini glass of the pudding with a dollop of Port Chantilly Crème (the kind used as filling for my Bird’s Nest Pavlova recipe). Or, top an espresso with a tiny spoon of the ruby port cream.

Suggested pairing: Offley Ruby Port. Let it breathe. Serve at a cool room temperature from a narrow neck decanter or directly from its bottle, chilled just a bit.

Another idea: Drizzle the prune port sauce on my grilled goat cheese spinach sandwich recipe you can find here. Scroll down to comments for Grilled Goat Cheese Spinach Sandwich Special (and so much more …)

Or, enjoy the sauce on an open face grilled brown bread slice, topped with thinly sliced roasted turkey and crispy bacon. Very yummy, either way. Note: if you have found a place to buy English bloomer bread that is very popular in U.K., it grills wonderfully. It’s also perfect to serve with scrambled eggs and smoked salmon at breakfast.

Asbach oxtails

In a heavy, coated, cast-iron pot, sauté oxtails in hot butter until brown. Add salt, pepper, Italian seasoning and a sprig of dry, fresh thyme. When cooked, add a little chopped parsley.

Add the following to the pot, then cover: Sweat a large Spanish onion, chopped medium fine; three celery sticks, chopped small but coarse; three carrots, large, cut in pennies on the diagonal.

Add one quart (four cups) of homemade chicken stock and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down. Simmer two hours. During the last half hour of cooking, add a quarter cup of Asbach brandy. Reduce. Sauce will thicken slightly.

You can serve the oxtails dish at this stage. Or, you can remove the oxtails so they don’t continue cooking (don’t overcook the meat) and add half and half cream. Bring to a boil, turn down the heat (don’t cover the pot) and reduce just slightly.

Serve over whipped, mashed potatoes, wide egg noodles or Basmati rice. Also good with crepes. Fill the crepes with the oxtails and serve the crepes in a reduced puddle of the natural sauce or the cream sauce, with the veggies on the plate pushed to the side.

If you have never eaten oxtails, you are missing out on a wonderful dish; but bear in mind, this is exceptionally rich and will be a great surprise for guests, too.

A different approach: Using either method, right at the end, add a tin of whole tomatoes and liquid; break up the tomatoes just a little.

Then, if you would rather have oxtail tomato soup, add another quart of homemade chicken stock. Bring to a boil, turn down heat and serve. When ready to serve, top each individual serving with a few shavings of frozen Asbach butter from your always at-the-ready freezer supply. Do not stir. Just let the compound butter melt.

More amazing oxtails: Hungarian oxtail goulash

Prepare as above: Let the meat fall off the bones; pull apart the meat using two forks. Reduce the sauce a little on low heat.

Check seasoning. Adjust salt, pepper and add a heaping tablespoon of Hungarian sweet paprika (not the smoky version, unless that is your personal preference). Gently fold in, just before serving, a large scoop of firm full fat sour cream. Do not reheat after adding the sour cream. Keep the cooking pan hot, covered until serving.

Serve the Hungarian oxtail goulash in a large family-style presentation in a large deep platter, along with a bed of my homemade sauerkraut. This works well as a side dish with plain breaded Wiener schnitzel or breaded chicken cutlets or pork cutlets and a generous serving of homemade egg noodles or spaetzle.

A word about food storage spaces

If you live near a grocery store or market, go in off-hours when checkout lines are less likely to be busy. And go more often. Most people never have enough refrigerator space no matter how big the fridge is, and kitchen cabinet space is often at a premium.

The luxury of having a separate pantry is just that. Unless you have one set, dedicated cabinet for food storage items, it’s better to shop frequently. It’s never a long walk to the basement and a worthwhile investment to put dedicated shelving in place for things best kept in a cool dark place.

Many Italian-built homes have a cantina. It’s not a real cantina unless it has an open air-exchange hole (as a listing rep be careful how you identify that space; you could find yourself paying to modify it). But nonetheless it is a cold room. But be careful about condensation accumulating. Keep an eye open for mould. That is never acceptable.

Back in the pre-war days, and even sometimes after, one could find dedicated giant storage bins in house basements, under a removable basement window, allowing those who grew their own potatoes and root vegetables a means of putting a slide in place and loading wagon-loads of veggies onto slides that delivered the homegrown wonders right to the storage bins, where they provided family food all through the off-seasons. Bins were made from bug-free woods, never from shipping skids that might carry uninvited guests in transit.

Some people who didn’t have open-slat wooden basement bins used open hemp sacks for storage. The coal or wood-fired furnace was often in the basement, so that kept any dampness at bay. In Canada, many basement areas had earthen floors.

Although the European immigrants brought their wonderful recipes from overseas with them, some foodstuffs really are international. Made with a local twist. Here is a good example.

Stale bread Austrian-style dumplings 

This is another wartime and post-wartime dish. Today we are still in a war – against food pricing and waste.

Bread is bread wherever you go or wherever you live. For these wonderful bread dumplings, you can use almost any bread. It just so happens the dumplings are still a staple in Northern Italy and Austria. And a particular favourite, too, among travellers to the region.

Don’t waste those easily dried out baguettes or rolls that become rock hard, almost impossible to bring back to life: French, Italian or Portuguese. Put the dried-out bread in a large plastic bag, lay a clean lightweight tea towel over it, and using your meat pounder hammer, smash the dried bread into large pieces.

Place the bread chunks into a large glass bowl. Just barely cover with half and half cream. The bread will expand as it absorbs the liquid. Let the bread sit for a few hours. You don’t want the bread soggy. Just moist.

Regular readers might notice I rarely use milk in my recipes. I don’t drink milk and haven’t since I was preschool when I was forced to drink milk that was “off”. I could never bring myself to drink it again, although very occasionally I would succumb to a hot chocolate or a milkshake. To me, ever after, milk tastes like whatever the cow had eaten, so I simply avoided it completely. Milk is full of natural sugars. Cream is not. Fat, yes. Sugar, no.

Now for these dumplings some people use flour as a binder. For an exception, perhaps use almonds or hazelnuts that have been ground to a powder flour-like texture. For six cups of soaked moistened bread, use about three-quarters cup of ground nuts (or flour). Whisk a large fresh egg and mix into the moistened bread. Sprinkle with minced fresh parsley and fresh lemon thyme. Grate a little fresh nutmeg into the mix and a little salt and pepper.

Now for the special touch: add a half cup of my special minced spinach mix from your fridge or thawed overnight freezer storage. But use spinach to which you have added chopped crispy bacon (not store-bought bacon bits).

To see my spinach special recipe scroll down to the sandwich comments here.

The dumplings need to be a generous size, about the size of a cup. Roll scoops of the bread mixture in your dry floured hands to form a ball shape. Dredge in seasoned flour. Cover on a tray with a clean tea towel.

Gently poach the bread dumplings in a large uncovered pot of simmering homemade chicken broth, perhaps for six minutes. Using a spider spoon, gently move the dumplings around in the broth. Do not overcook them.

Pull the dumplings apart into two pieces using two forks and sprinkle with Parmesan and serve alongside my Tiroler mushroom and cheese-filled Wiener schnitzel and spaetzle with a side of my special red cabbage or homemade sauerkraut. The dumplings are also a wonderful side with my sacrilegious Shiraz veal or with my delicious oxtail goulash.

This is a hungry-man meal for sure.

Any leftover dumplings can be sliced about a half-inch thick the next day and reheated quickly in sizzling butter and served with sugared carrots and blanched sweet peas or minty mushy peas.

Alternate: Mince white button mushrooms and minced onion, equal parts. Just sauté once over lightly in sizzling butter, cool slightly and add a little to the moist bread mix. With or without the spinach mix.

Another alternate: Coarsely chop cooked lobster claw meat and mix into the bread dumpling mix. You can keep on hand a flash frozen tin of lobster for this purpose (thaw and squeeze out the liquid; freeze the liquid and save for another recipe) or buy ready-cooked lobster claw packages. Add a little minced fresh tarragon. Poach the dumplings in chicken stock or homemade fish stock.

When ready to serve, spritz with homemade lobster oil or melt a lobster compound butter puck from your stored log and pour over each melt-in-your-mouth seafood dumpling.

Serve the large dumplings as a side, with a tiny drizzle of Petite Maison white truffle Dijon, with a generous bowl of thick Canadian seafood chowder or lobster bisque.

Plums up! Or figgy dumplings. 

Prepare the bread dumplings using cognac marinated plums or black mission figs, finely chopped (squeeze out excess liquid) and drizzle each dumpling with a little Chantilly Cream and offer a starter as a unique large amuse bouche.

There’s nothing difficult about preparing your meals in a gourmet fashion as a home cook. As my readers know, nothing goes to waste in my kitchen. And busy Realtors have to eat, so cooking at home actually saves time because you have an opportunity to multi-task. It’s simply a matter of being organized – mis en place. Just like at the office.

© “From Lady Ralston’s Kitchen: A Canadian Contessa Cooks” Turning everyday meal making into a Gourmet Experience

The post Recipes for Realtors: Stewed prunes, oxtails and oranges appeared first on REM | Real Estate Magazine.

Recipes for Realtors: Stewed prunes, oxtails and oranges published first on https://grandeurparkcondo.tumblr.com/