Right now, the uneaten fish chowder is sitting on the stovetop waiting to be put away. Lets just say it is cooling. You're not supposed to put hot food directly in the fridge, right? So, I'm carefully allowing it to return to room temperature before I stow it in the fridge. That sounds so much better than "I really just don't FEEL like cleaning up the dinner dishes" - Man, I can't WAIT till the kids are old enough to do the dishes. Mandatory Servitude: Making the millions of poopy diapers all worth it.
Anyhow, tonight, I made Fish Chowder for dinner. The technical name of the recipe is "Peppery Fish Chowder" but I really changed it so much that it bears only a small resemblance to the original recipe. So, I'm going to record what I did here, on my blog, so in six months (oh wait, this is Texas, in six months it'll still be hot as blazes here) in ten and a half months on the 3rd day of winter (out of only 7 days of winter here!) I'll be able to recreate it accurately.
Isn't food amazing? It feeds us, nourishes us, keeps us alive, yes, but because eating involves all the senses: Hearing the bacon sizzling, smelling the garlic and onions hit the pan, tasting the finished product (duh) and along the way, seeing the golden browns of something perfectly roasted, and feeling the textures on your tongue - there is just something about a meal cooked with love. It delights on every level. Or for me, tonight, a meal cooked with only the slightest hint of grumpiness but mostly love, if we're being perfectly honest.
This chowder took me back to Boston. I was immediately transported to a booth at Legal SeaFoods - I was wearing a scarf and across (Rt. 9) the street was the Natick Mall. Parking was horrific, the parking lot filled with potholes and a gusty wind blew outside. But as I smelled my own fish chowder at my sunny table here in Texas, I was facing the kitchen at Legal's, smelling the fresh-cracked pepper and seeing the steam come off my clam chowder. It was perfect, and for some reason, my slightly grumpy soul needed that bit of New England chill mixed with heavy cream. I vividly remember going to Legal's only three times in the two years we lived up there (we probably went more often than that, but I have a terrible memory)- once with Alex after a date to the Boston Aquarium (Can you believe we were dumb enough to brave the Aquarium on a Saturday?! Oh the things you learn once you're part of the stroller brigade!), once with Jenna and Lucas for lunch to have some gluten free crab dip (that time, we sat in the bar near the huge fish tank), and once with my brother John when he visited us up there. Every time I got clam chowder and crab cakes. Every time it was wonderful. Every time I think about it, I want to move back there and I accidentally call New England "home" in my mind. As in, "Oh, I wish we could just move home for some clam chowder" - In those moments, I forget that my entire being is Texan - I guess there is a small part of my soul left up there in the snow, and anytime I think about New England, its like a honing beacon is activated. Or a honing "beacon hill" is activated. Or a honing "beancon". (I'm sorry, I can't help myself!)
Oh, New England.
Okay, enough pining for a real-man's winter. The recipe. I have renamed it, b/c really it is my recipe.
Julie's Flashback to New England Life Fish Chowder (That's not too lengthy of a name is it?)
First, I diced up four red potatoes skin on. I filled a pot not quite halfway with water, salted and peppered them, and boiled them just until they were barely tender. I had to stir them, as they were not covered by water. In fact, the water was about a quarter of an inch below the top surface of potatos. Take them off the heat and set them aside still in their water.
Next, I diced up some bacon. Really, any amount here will work. The original recipe said three slices, to which I scoff. Three slices of bacon would not feed my two year old to her bacon satisfaction. This time I used half a package, but 3/4 or a whole package would not be out of line here. Then I fried the bacon in a decent sized soup pot. (Not my magic pot, although that would work too). After the bacon was good and crispy (I like it really crispy), I took almost all of it out and stuck it on a paper towel lined plate. I did leave some pieces in the pan to season the broth Then I added a whole onion, diced, and three pressed cloves of garlic. I let that soften for a few minutes in the bacon grease. Then I added 1/4 c (or four heaping tablespoons) of flour to the onions, garlic, bacon grease and let it cook out for a few minutes.
Now here is the important part (the part I know I'll forget in 10 1/2 months) - I added two cups of water, one cup of clam juice, the potatos and their starchy boiling water, plus a splash of lemon juice, a splash of 2% milk, two splashes of white wine, plus salt and pepper to the onions, flour, garlic, etc.... And seriously, it was perfect.
While that was coming up to a boil, I cut up four pre-portioned tilapia filets (probably between 1 and 1 and a third lbs.) that had been vacuum-packed and frozen. (I thawed them first) I cut out the red vein running down the back and made them into nice-sized chunks. After the soup/broth mixture had been boiling for a few minutes and I was done cutting the fish, I tossed them in and continued letting the soup just work its magic. Um, I just forgot how to spell magic. It took me three times to get it right. I digress.
Finally, when I was confident that the tilapia was cooked through, plus I was done pre-washing all the dirty dishes, plus I had given Alex and the kids a five minute warning that it was almost time to clean up Ticket to Ride, (BTW - This is as unrelated as my "magic" spelling skills, but when the kids and Alex started playing Ticket to Ride this afternoon, Cooper said - AND I QUOTE - "Maybe since mom's not playing, I can win this time." I have never been so proud.) I pulled the soup off the burner, added a cup of heavy cream and some sprinkles of dried parsley. Fresh would have been better, I know, but whatever. Oh, and how could I almost forget, sprinkle on some of your reserved still-crispy bacon before serving. Then serve with fresh-cracked black pepper and oyster crackers (we did not have oyster crackers tonight, don't even know if we can get them here in Texas but that would have been the proverbial cherry on top!)
It was perfect. Not too fishy at all, in fact, less fishy than actual clam chowder, but still creamy and perfect enough to bring back all the aforementioned memories, associations and longings.
And now time to put it in the fridge. Only 6 - 7 more years before I can let the kids handle all the dinner cleanup.
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