The ongoing saga; food.
I. Water Water Every Where …
Ah, poor Kenny.
I do feel for him. He’s doing his best, but the water heater continues to defeat him. Yesterday I went to vote and while I was out he came by to work on it; I noticed the “So-and-so was here due to a maintenance request” card hanging on the door when I returned.
The hot water tap sputtered and spat, wheezing air as it tried to find its rhythm, and after several gallons it sounded much better. But it just wasn’t hot. 100F, 110? Sure. Good enough for rinsing dishes, washing one’s face, etc. Ms. S. took a shower before dinner with the parental units and, following that, a swank post-election party with our economic and political betters.
For the win? Tiny servings of red velvet cake in plastic cups the size of large shot glasses.
But I digress. She noticed that the shower was only ‘warm’ and that she had to turn off the cold water. This morning when the water was still only warm I inquired whether I should head to the main office to file another report, and she replied, no, we should wait another day or so. Perhaps it was something temporary, a matter of the water heater resetting itself, etc. … something that sounds a bit ridiculous in retrospect and under the gaze of reason.
Then the afternoon arrives and Ms. S. must prepare for another work shift. She attends to the water and discovers that it is only lukewarm … hardly hair-washing water.
I check the breaker panel. Sure enough, the one marked ‘water heater’ was switched to off. Of course, this could have been due to a short, but the likely answer was that Kenny just forgot to reset it the day before after working on the water heater, so I switched it to on, and it stuck. Iet water flow. And no heat.
Hrm.
I reset it to ‘off,’ (“just because). To the main office I go, and to Melissa I report, and I discuss, too, the ailing dishwasher and its asthamatic motor, as well as the AC unit that froze up several times. She’ll send Kenny right over, she replies. I return home after a trip to the mail box. Ms. S. departs unhappily for work. A knock arrives on the door. It’s Kenny.
Back up: I wake up this morning because of a knock on the door. It’s Kenny. But by the time I’m ‘decent’ and am ready to let him in he has gone elsewhere (our upstairs neighbors) to work on another project. I don’t see him again until late afternoon.
Two things: he forgot to reset the breaker panel, and he forgot to reset the water heater itself. Reset the latter, then the former. It should take about 15 minutes to heat up. Kenny leaves. I remind him about the AC; he notes that he noticed it freezing up when he came by Tuesday. 15 minutes later we indeed have scalding hot water.
Yay!
Hours later I cook dinner, serve it up, and prepare to retreat to a table to eat it. And I hear something.
A puddle has formed on the dryer.
The hot water is back … but so is the leak. I captured photos and videos with my phone.
Documentation.
And tomorrow mornin I’ll return to the main office to report my findings.
II. What am I, Chopped Liver?
Yesterday after voting I found some fresh-ish beef livers for a decent price and bought a pound or so, about 20 ounces. To the fridge they went.
I decided a dinner for myself while Ms. S. was away at work was the best time to cook the meat … there’s still plenty of time for the kitchen to air out.
So a nice 105g portion of liver (not quite 4oz), cut into strips and soaked briefly in lemon water to dull any bitterness (aside: not necessary). One onion, sliced into rings. About 200g fresh button mushrooms, sliced into thirds. 100g collard greens, 35g dry lentils. A serving of carrot-broccoli soup (to get the batch finished, the bowl cleaned, etc.). A small — 50g — sweet potato from Ms. S.’s parents’ garden, chopped. Enough butter and olive oil. I said: enough.
Cast iron skillet to the rescue.
First the heat, then the butter, and then the mushrooms. When they are mostly reduced it’s time to add the onions, which cook much more quickly. And the sweet potato. Meanwhile heat cup or two of water for the lentils, season with turmeric, paprika, cumin, black pepper and salt, and cook them at a simmer about 20 minutes. Mean-mean-while bring a cup or two of vegetable stock and perhaps some paprika to a simmer, add the collard greens, cover, and cook 15 minutes or so. Drain and rinse the liver. Pat dry. Dredge in a flour-salt-pepper-paprika mixture and once the onions-mushrooms-sweet-potato are done remove them, add some oil to the pan, and let the liver slices sizzle about a minute per side.
What I love about the heartier greens (kale counts, spinach doesn’t …) is [a] how delicious they are simmered in vegetable stock/broth, often with a splash of vinegar to brighten things up, and [b] how much chewiness they retain. Not crunchiness, and not gumminess, but enough firmness that when taken not as individual leaves but as a layered or bunched mouthful they offer a resistence greater than fish but less than, say, beef or pork. It’s “tenderness” as we would apply it to meat, not as applied to vegetables, which when tender give easily but do not fall apart. Here though there is more fiber, and a big serving of greens seems less like an afterthough side dish and more like something primary or center stage.
And the liver? Mmm … really mellow (I would gladly take more liver-i-ness), tender, etc. Low in carbs and fat but high in protein, in terms of vitamins and minerals it’s one of the most nutritionally complete foods out there. All the B vitamins you could want, plus a lot of A and C, and then in addition to its famous amounts of iron all that zinc and selenium, too.
See also: “4 Health Benefits of Eating Beef Liver“
