Notes from the field

Oh, hi.

It’s been a while, hunh?

What’s that you say? Med school orientation is starting this week?

Whoops.

So here we are, a little less than a year out from post number one of my quaint ‘I-have-a-gap-year-I-think-I’ll-write-a-food-blog” project. This was supposed to be a self-limiting sort of project, where after a year of adventures during which I posted consistently (again, whoops) I gracefully bowed out and turned all my attentions to the pursuit of an M.D. (not to be confused with happiness #whitepeopleproblems). But I have this funny idea that trying to maintain this/start this back up again might be a stellar exercise in the ever challenging pursuit of work-life balance.

This blog clearly falls under the ‘life’ category for me—I enjoyed very much writing these entries, and I suspect that I will enjoy doing so even more in the coming months. Cooking, and writing about cooking (because when would I ever do anything that didn’t operate at some sort of meta level?), will become one of the few creative, no-stakes outlets I have during these next couple of years. (I say couple, rather than four, because creativity has a huge role in actual clinical medicine and patient management—unfortunately the first two years of medical school see very little clinical anything, except sometimes clinical depression.)

Anyway, that’s my way of saying hello again!

Now, while I haven’t written in a while, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking of the blog.**

They're called jocotes. They sweet-tart,
and edible right of the tree, or stewed in jams.

I thought about you while I ate this.

Woot! Tamales!

 And learned how to make this.

D & D Brewery, Lake Yojoa, Honduras.

Certainly while I drank this.

And when I returned to the

developed world and made this.

4 o'clock = gelato o'clock.

And when abso-posi-lutely while I devoured this.

See? I thought about you lots!

So here’s the deal: I’ll probably continue to think about the blog/food a lot over these next few months of the big med school adventure. But a lot of the time, I’m gonna have to push those thinks out in favor of absurdly lewd mnemonics for muscle groups. But I am going to make an honest attempt to give those thinks space to breathe, and get written about , once a week.

So check in. Call me out. And most of all, wish me luck.

**(Obviously this is the case, since thinking about the blog is equivalent to thinking about food, which I clearly do constantly—hence the inception and existence of this blog.)

Sloshed Sweet Taties

With last weekend and New Year’s Eve spent in NYC, and MLK weekend to be spent in NYC, the big move (into the city and into medical school) has been on my mind of late. I’ve downloaded a speed anatomy app onto my cell phone. I’ve started swooning at Ikea’s catalogue, dreaming about the modern, urbane and highly space efficient apartment-to-be.

Mostly, I fantasize about the kitchen-to-be. A kitchen that is mine to stock. A kitchen which, when I wander in each morning, bleary and pre-caffeine, will be just as I left it the night previous. No cookie sheets with the remnants of roasted vegetables lying on the stove, no crumbs of ill-advised late night baking. Just. as. I. left. it. (Much love to 181 Governor, but we weren’t so close to godliness, were we?)

At least, however, I dream practically. I dream about staple and cheap ingredients, not about cheeses from Eataly or yogurt from Ronnybrook. Specifically, I dream about cheap beer and beans.

The venerable pint.

Beans seem pretty self explanatory—cheap and nutritional, with a long shelf life. But cheap beer? From a self-proclaimed foodie? 

Mais oui.

On the rare occasion when I can pull my nose out of book long enough to transfer it to a pint, I will, in all likelihood, opt for a craft brew over Miller High Life (though it be the champagne of beers). But:

1. One ought always to have on hand something cheap for those who don’t know better. (What a pal, eh?)
2. You never know when even the discerning beer snob may get desperate (exams, cough cough).
3.  Beer adds incredible depth of flavor to everything. And it [can be] cheap. With a long shelf life.

Now, I’m not saying I never use canned or powdered chicken stock (or the real stuff, if my mother has made it….I’m not there yet). I’m a sucker for broth before bed, or when I’m sick (I pretend I’m Beth and Jo in Beth’s deathbed scene from Little Women…except for the whole deathbed bit). And when braising a mild vegetable, chicken stock in the liquid of choice.

But into all soups, stews or anything that falls in the soup family, I’m as likely to empty a bottle of beer as a can of broth. Depending on the variety, beer adds a lovely fruitiness (think Blue Moon), a deep hearty smokiness (think Guinness) or a caramel sweetness (any porter). All of it adds a yeasty, zingy note.

For your next dinner, whatever it is (but especially if beans or cheese are involved), consider taking that bottle from your lips and sloshing some into the pan. I promise you won’t regret it.

Black Beans and Sweet Potatoes, Smoky and Sloshed

A How Now Original

Serves 4, generously

Olive oil

1 yellow onion, diced

3 (monstrous) cloves garlic, minced

1 tsp. good chili powder

1 tsp. ground cumin

1 chipotle pepper, minced, with some of its sauce

2 medium sweet potatoes (~1 lb.), peeled and large diced

2 c. diced tomatoes with their juice (1 14. oz. can)

2 c. chicken broth (1 14 oz. can)

1 bottle beer (it’ll have whatever you’re having)

2 c. water

2 c. cooked black beans (1 14 oz. can), rinsed

1 tsp. smoked paprika

Salt, pepper

In a medium soup pot, heat about 1 tbsp. olive oil. When shimmering, add onions and garlic, sprinkling lightly with salt and pepper. When onions start to become translucent, add chili powder, cumin and diced pepper.

When onions are completely translucent, add sweet potatoes, coating with oil and onion juices until glossy. Add all liquids, bringing soup to a boil. Add beans, and allow to simmer for 15 minutes, or until sweet potatoes are fork-tender. Stir in smoked paprika, season with salt and pepper to taste.

Note: This makes a rather thick soup, despite the considerable amount of liquid. You might serve it over rice, and call it chili—in which case, I might omit the water, and simmer the soup/chili without a cover for some additional time.