Rendered (The Cass Chronicles Book 3) Read online

  Curt looked a trifle skeptical. “Well, you can't have our first born or anything like that.”

  “Nope. Not even close. Have I got a yoga instructor for you…”

  CassCooks Blog Post:

  Dear friends, and I know it's ridiculous and yet I truly truly feel that way about all of you. There will be a second season of Cass Plans a Wedding, but from now on they will be shot in Alaska. We are going home. It is like life, thrilling and bitter sweet. I am now, and forever, a transplant. My parents, my beloved Jen, so many of the people who are woven into the fibers of my very being—I mean, like bone marrow—are in Chicago. But our life is in Slick Trench. I will never be able to thank Sarah and Connor enough. They are, simply put, extraordinary people. They are gracious, smart and kind. You may know that for the last few months, I have been involved in a conflict with some people who are the opposite of that. It has been hard. Matters of the heart are nuanced and what feels like home to one person might feel like dark closet to someone else. I want all of you to wring every bit of deliciousness out of your life. That may mean culling people who cause you pain. Full stop—you deserve to be valued. The world is ripe with good people. There isn't a “war between the sexes.” Life is complicated. But hear me, the good guys are going to win. Till next time, Savor. Reflect. Love. It’s like gravity.

  Cass

  Recipes

  Readers: As a bonus, I’ve included the link: https://casscooks.com/

  Caramelized Eggplant Calzone:

  Because life isn't always fair—the dough needs to be started first:

  Dough

  3/4 cup all-purpose flour

  3/4 cup wheat flour

  1 1/8 tsp fast acting yeast

  1/2 tsp salt

  1/2 tablespoon honey

  1 tablespoon olive oil

  3/4 cup warm water, or as needed

  Combine everything except the whole wheat flour—I use my Kitchenaid mixer for this, but a wooden spoon works. You will have a very soft dough. Pile your whole wheat flour on your counter and tip your warm yeasty sludge onto it. Now, this is a wee bit like suggesting a new love making position after years of marriage, a somewhat tricky thing to suggest, but totally worth the effort. Press down with your palms and then use your fingertips to peel the edge back and then press down. Repeat until you have a taut, somewhat glossy ball of dough… Spray a ceramic bowl with some cooking spray, deposit your dough ball into it, spray the top of the ball with some more spray and set aside.

  A confession, this is a vegan recipe. There is nothing on this side of the grave that is not made better by cheese… (Need convincing? CAKE is made better by cheese… Cake! The defense rests) so add some if you are not working within dietary restrictions that prevent it. I have yet to find a non cheese cheese that is worth even considering eating—make of that what you will.

  2 small eggplants—Isn't aubergine the prettiest name of a vegetable ever? Go with two small instead of one large to avoid the bitter seeds… This recipe does not need precise measurements (for this component.) Does anyone EVER say two cups of a vegetable and then throw the rest away? If so, stop it immediately. There are hungry people in the world, one-half of a carrot will not skew your recipe. Back to my aubergines…

  Peel and dice into small (thumb tip size) cubes. Toss with kosher salt (maybe two tablespoons) and set in a colander.

  2 medium yellow onions—NOT super sweet ones—NOT Walla Walla—you want run of the mill grocery store yellow onions. Dice them small.

  1/2 cup of sun dried tomatoes packed in oil, slivered and a tablespoon or so of the oil

  4 cloves of garlic—minced

  Drizzles of olive oil, as needed

  3/4 cup finely slivered fresh basil

  About 1/2 cup red wine

  In a perfect world, you would have two cast iron saucepans—if not, you’ll need to do this in several batches. Drizzle some olive oil in each pan. Squeeze your aubergine cubes and toss a handful into each pan—Stop here for a come to Jesus moment… Do NOT overcrowd the pan—you must be able to see the pan all around each little sizzling cube. Overreach and they will stew and the sadness will overcome us all.

  Use a metal spatula to turn the cubes—you want little crispy cubes. As they brown, lift them out and put them in a large bowl. Continue in this fashion until you're out of eggplant. Dump the onions and two cloves of garlic into one of the pans. Drizzle with a bit more oil, just enough so that it won't scorch… Pour the wine over the onions. Turn heat WAAAY down.

  While your onions cook down to fragrant mush, turn your mind to seasoning your aubergines. Toss with some kosher salt, the other half of the garlic, the tomatoes and their oil. Allow to marinate until your onions look like they could turn into onion soup with the addition of a little broth (not at all a bad idea). Combine, taste for salt and pepper and stir through with your basil confetti.

  A word here, this concoction is seriously good—you could toss it with pasta, or serve it alongside hummus and tabbouleh and lots of pita bread. However, that is not what we are doing today. As I mentioned before—back at the beginning of this recipe—we were all so much younger then, life isn't fair. Now you need to allow your caramelized eggplant to come to room temp…

  I use an ice cream scoop to portion out the dough. Using parchment paper, roll it out to a thin circleish shape—use a tablespoon of filling—make sure you leave enough room for crimping. Crimp with your fingertips or a fork. These can go into the freezer—on a cookie sheet to freeze and then toppled into a Ziploc bag. Do NOT drop them unfrozen into a Ziploc. They will congeal into an ungodly doughy mass studded with cubes of once crispy, now freezer burned eggplant. We are way too invested in this recipe to allow such a happenstance. Learn from me, people.

  Bake from frozen at 350 for thirty minutes.

  I now know why vegans are all so skinny, the sheer effort involved in preparing the food… Are you sure you don't just want to make different friends?

  Whiskey and Bubbles:

  Could anything be more festive? We like complex, smoky Scotch in this boozy punch, brought together by cinnamon, honey and cloves.

  Instructions: In a pitcher or bowl with ice, combine twelve ounces of Scotch, two ounces of cinnamon-infused honey syrup (see below) and stir well. Pour a liter of sparkling water over and pour into ice filled cocktail glasses (those are the short ones; they usually hold about 4 ounces each.) Garnish with a cinnamon stick in each glass. You can also combine all of these ingredients in a large punch bowl or pitcher and allow your guests to serve themselves.

  Cinnamon-infused honey syrup sounds fancy, but it's not at all: In a saucepan over low heat, combine equal parts honey and water, stirring until the honey is dissolved; add a cinnamon stick per six ounces of fluid and let steep for twenty to thirty minutes. Remove the cinnamon stick and you're good to go.

  Sangria Popsicles:

  2 cups finely minced fruit—NO bananas or apples

  1 cup of red wine, reduced by half

  1/2 cup sugar

  2 1/2 cups White grape juice

  Stir sugar into wine to dissolve, add juice. Place fruit in popsicle molds and pour liquid over, add sticks—freeze.

  Ginger Lemonade Popsicles:

  3 lemons—yellow peel removed with a peeler and cut into strips and juice squeezed.

  1 1/2 cups sugar,

  Peeled fresh ginger cut into thin matchsticks

  Place all ingredients in a small saucepan and add ½ cup of water. Bring to a boil. Once sugar is dissolved, allow to steep for thirty minutes (or up to a day). Pour through a fine mesh strainer and fill popsicle molds.

  The wedding menu. I’m giving you amounts for four—the web site has conversion tables so you can cook these dishes for up to a 100 people.

  Smoked Salmon first course:

  4 cups of mixed spring greens

  4 ounces of smoked salmon sliced paper thin

  A lemon

  Olive oil

  Soft crust bakery white bread

&
nbsp; Soft butter

  Capers

  Thinly sliced cucumber and about 20 halved grape tomatoes

  Begin by cutting the lemon in half long wise—stem to stem.

  Dress the greens with half of the lemon and a bit of olive oil and toss. Pile the dressed greens unto four chilled salad plates. Drape your salmon over the greens—decorate with a sprinkle of capers, the tomatoes and delicate circles of peeled cucumber. Cut the remaining lemon half into four thin wedges and adorn each plate with one.

  Pumpkin soup:

  1 can pumpkin puree. Make sure you don't buy pumpkin pie filling.

  4 tablespoons butter

  1 onion, 4 stalks celery both finely minced

  3 cloves of garlic crushed

  6 cups chicken stock

  Cumin

  Sautee the vegetables in the butter until softened, add the pumpkin and allow to lightly brown—stir often, during this process. Add chicken stock, season to taste with cumin, salt and pepper. Garnish as you will. Bacon might be perfect, but toasted pepitos are pretty darn great too.

  Roasted Garlic Mashed Potatoes:

  2 1/2 pounds russet potatoes, peeled, cut into 1/2-inch pieces. Put into a large pot of boiling salted water. Meanwhile, combine:

  8 cloves of garlic

  2/3 cup half and half in a small saucepan and gently simmer.

  5 tablespoons butter, cut into 5 pieces

  Wrap the garlic in a square of foil and set it in a 400-degree oven to roast for thirty minutes. Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook potatoes until they are easily pierced by a fork. Drain. Return the potatoes to the pot and immediately add the warm half and half, squeeze each of the cloves of garlic out its paper sheath. They will be caramelized and smell divine. I adore my husband but any man who had the sense to wear roasted garlic as a cologne, might have my devotion forever. Mash the potatoes. Be thorough since you are crushing and distributing the garlic as well as mashing the taters. Taste for salt and pepper, make a well in the top and drop in the butter.

  Blender Bearnaise:

  Strictly speaking, this isn't “real bernaise”—the official stuff is seasoned with tarragon, which I am not a fan of—feel free to substitute fresh tarragon for the parsley.

  1/4 cup champagne or white wine vinegar

  1/4 cup good white wine

  2 tablespoons minced shallot

  3 tablespoons finely chopped parsley

  Kosher salt

  Freshly ground black pepper

  3 extra-large egg yolks

  1/2 pound (two sticks) unsalted butter, melted

  Zest of one lemon

  Put the champagne vinegar, white wine, shallots, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil and simmer over medium heat for about five minutes until the mixture is reduced to a few tablespoons. Cool slightly.

  Place the cooled mixture with the egg yolks and 1 teaspoon salt in the jar of a blender and blend for thirty seconds. With the blender on, slowly pour the hot butter through the opening in the lid. Add the parsley and lemon zest and blend only for a second. If the sauce is too thick, add a tablespoon of white wine to thin. Keep at room temperature until serving.

  You will want a guilt-free salad tomorrow (who the fuck am I kidding—I never feel guilt about good food, and neither should you. However, you probably shouldn't consume these kamikaze levels of calories every day—maybe every other.)

  So for days when your virtuousness expresses itself in healthier eating—try this:

  Juice of 1 lemon and juice of one orange—squeezed into a measuring cup

  Walnut or almond oil, or a combo or one of them mixed with olive oil to equal the juice.

  Sea salt to taste

  Combine in a jar and mix thoroughly. The secret to really great salads is to toss the whole shebang in a really big bowl—one of the nice things about wooden bowls is that they are lightweight for their size. For salad for one—put about 3 tablespoons of room temperature dressing in your bowl.

  When you get home from work, pull out your jar of "citric vinaigrette" which is what we are calling this from now on, cats and kittens… Now, for salad for one, you will need 3 cups by volume or clean DRY salad greens. At the risk of seeming ungrateful, packaged baby spinach is not the boon it's cracked up to be—it requires de-stemming. On top of the greens, add any combination of the following: dried cranberries, halved cherry tomatoes, peeled cucumber half-moons, slivers of dried apricots, those juice packed pink grapefruit segments, any nuts. Toss thoroughly—really your own spotlessly clean hands are the best tool for this, but the advantage of a wooden bowl is you can use it to toss your salad. I pretend I am a sexy Germanic peasant winnowing wheat in the sunshine—your mileage may vary.

  Asian Chicken Wraps:

  Okay—let me begin by saying that breasts are overrated. I say this as a woman who has been in the middle of the alphabet since eighth grade, but that's not really what I mean. Thighs are where it's at, as far as chicken is concerned. I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating. They are more flavorful, and their slightly higher fat content makes cooking them less stressful—with a boneless breast, you have a window that's about thirty seconds between “perfectly done, and why did I even fucking bother.” Thighs give you a bit more wiggle room for perfection. They are also cheaper, so win/win. You may use breasts if that’s what you have in the fridge. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though.

  Begin with a pound of skinless, boneless chicken thighs cut into small pieces—fairly small—you should be able to fit two to three of the pieces in the bowl of a teaspoon. Combine marinade ingredients and (in a perfect world) store all in a Ziploc bag overnight. It’s really okay, if you don’t do this. It will still be very delicious.

  Marinade:

  About 1/2 cup soy sauce

  A tablespoon of grated ginger

  A tablespoon of rice wine vinegar (in a pinch substitute lemon or even orange juice.) Take note, No oil! I am not sure what dupe of the oil lobby convinced cookbook writers to start putting oil in marinades. Once oil has coated a surface, how much of the flavoring ingredients get in? None—nada, zilch. How stupid do they think we are? Never put oil in a marinade. I am serious, just leave it out. You can use oil in the pan or even to coat the meat before cooking. NOT for marinating.

  4 stalks celery—diced

  2 cans of water chestnuts—drained and diced

  An additional tablespoon of minced ginger (more or less)

  2 cloves of finely minced garlic

  3 tablespoons smooth peanut butter

  1 tablespoon brown sugar

  1/2 cup chicken stock—I highly recommend that you buy a carton of chicken stock and keep it in your fridge

  3/4 cup of diced pineapple—canned is fine as long as it’s canned in juice

  1/2 cup of diced almonds (optional)

  Toasted sesame oil

  Soy sauce and, if desired, chili oil

  In a smoking hot pan, add a small amount of canola oil and toss in chicken cubes—throw away the marinade. Sear lightning fast. Remove chicken to a bowl and cover to keep warm. In the pan, add a bit more oil and the diced celery and water chestnuts. Add the garlic, ginger and a few tablespoons of water (do NOT let them scorch.) When they are soft and fragrant, swirl in the peanut butter, brown sugar and chicken stock. Stir often and then return the previously cooked ingredients and stir to combine. Stir in the diced pineapple and add nuts (I was cooking for the magnificent Jen and her kith and kin and since the kith part is a toddler, I left out the nuts) and season with sesame oil and (if you are not feeding eighteen-month-old Sadie, you could certainly use a fiery chili oil instead—unless she’s being VERY annoying) ore soy sauce. This is great served hot with rice. Allow it to come to room temp and serve it in lettuce cups. This is a great take along dish. So often when people take food to someone who has a new baby or is ill, we think of stodgy type comfort foods. Don’t be that friend. Wake up their taste buds. It can also serve as a vehicl
e for any bits or pieces nearing the end of their edible life—vegetables that are lurking in your produce bin—carrots, zucchini, peppers, bits of cabbage.

  Pants NOT on Fire Corn Soufflé:

  There are lots of healthy, quick ways to prepare vegetables. This is NOT one of them. Make it anyway!

  1 cup milk (whole)

  3 cups of white frozen corn. Do not substitute yellow, just don’t. If needs must, go with canned white corn. You could blanche freshly picked white corn and then cut the kernels off. If you can get your hands on perfect white fresh corn, do not spit in God’s face by making something as elaborate as this, say thank you and reach for the butter.

  1/4 cup unsalted butter;

  1/4 cup all-purpose flour

  3 large eggs, separated

  1 tsp kosher salt

  2 or 3 grinds black pepper

  1 tablespoon sliced fresh chives

  1/2 cup heavy cream

  In a heavy saucepan, melt butter and add flour. Cook for a few minutes on low. Meanwhile, in a blender combine egg yolks, milk and corn—blitz. Pour through a wire strainer and add to roux. Stir constantly until it forms a very thick corny smelling white sauce. Allow to cool.

  Heat your oven to 375 degrees. In a scrupulously clean mixing bowl, beat the egg whites until they form airy peaks of snowy perfection. Spray a muffin tin with enough cooking spray to seriously endanger the ozone above your house. Add a large spoonful of the whites to the corn base. Stir to combine. Now fold the whites into the base, using a spatula to gently and quickly combine them without knocking all the air out. Immediately pour the soufflé mixture into the muffin tins and bake for twenty minutes.