Like everybody else, I need wholesome distractions from the fascinating, disgusting, outrageous, wanton nonstop train wreck that is Donald Trump.  Cooking is one of them.  Others include mystery novels and going to my day job.  Also, like Hillary Clinton, I spend a lot of time watching cats (in my case, I have one in the house who does very well).  This week in cooking:

The Internet

• Sunken Apple and Honey Cake (Smitten Kitchen).  When I find a really simple, delicious, visually-amazing dessert that comes out perfectly, I immediately begin to fantasize about making it for company.  Deb Perelman's Sunken Apple and Honey Cake is company cake.  (Or, it could be company breakfast cake, served with brunch.)  The crumb is somehow dense and light at the same time, while the apples and honey syrup give it a beautiful moistness.  I found some tiny Lady apples at the Whole Foods, and these were ideal to quarter (the apples were too small to core whole and then halve, as per the recipe instructions) and slice thin into the decorative apple fans you see in the photos.  They also had great flavor.  We ate two slices of cake each upon its debut, leaving only a quarter of the cake for lunchboxes the next day.  It was so, so good.  If you want to dress it up for company, I bet a bit of whipped cream wouldn't go amiss.

​Bon Appetit

• Classic Potato Gratin (Nov. 2015).  This was a time-consuming recipe-- between making the garlicky sauce, slicing 4 lbs. of potatoes very thinly, and a long baking time-- that was not really worth the result.  (I did not use a mandolin to slice the potatoes, as history suggests I will merely slice the end of my finger off and any time "saved" will be squandered in bandaging.)  The flavor of the potatoes was good-- garlic, butter, thyme, cream, cheese!-- but, even with a longer browning time than called for, they were only barely crispy on top, and quite mushy on the inside.  I could make creamy garlic potatoes a lot more easily by, say, mashing them.  If you do make this recipe, I would recommend removing the foil from the pan earlier in the baking process, in order to let the potatoes dry out and crisp better.  We ate them with brussels sprouts and salmon filet (my kid) or sausages (my husband) or both (me).

​Madhur Jaffrey:

• Fried Okra with Fresh Curry or Basil Leaves, served on the side with slices of parmesan-covered toast, pears and raspberries.  A strange recipe: the okra (I bought fresh this time) was sliced very thin, fried without breading in a lot of oil along with basil leaves, and then blotted, spiced and salted.  It did not become crunchy, although it seemed to me that would have been the only point of such a procedure.  Instead, the okra darkened, shrunk to a tiny wizened size, and tasted salty/spicy.  Once it had shrunk, there was not a lot of it left, rather like cooking a bunch of spinach.  It was not bad, neither was it good.  As a treatment of okra, it left me somewhat mystified.
• Okra with Tomatoes, served over toast with scrambled eggs on top (my kid had cooked mustard and turnip greens in place of okra).  This was basically cooked okra with some tomatoes, garlic and spices added.  A good shot of lime juice gave it a pleasant bite as well.  While not earth-shattering, this was a more logical way to serve okra than the above method.  I would skip the eggs and toast next time and simply serve it as a regular vegetable side dish.

​Mridula Baljekar:

• Chicken Saag, served with packaged naan and topped with plain yogurt and chili powder.  A mixed review for the Chicken Saag.  It tasted wonderful and my husband loved it.  But, as may be seen from the photos, my sauce ended up as thin as a soup, not the thick spinachy paste pictured in the cookbook or familiar from Indian restaurants.  Now, in retrospect, this is not surprising, since 8 oz. of spinach, 4 tomatoes, and 1 cup of water (plus seasonings and chicken), cooked with the cover on as directed for about 30 minutes, are unlikely to produce a thick sauce.  Why all that water?  Is that an error?  But we ate it anyway, enthusiastically, with spoons to consume all the tasty broth and naan for dipping.  The leftovers were even better the next day.  Even now that all the chicken is gone, I still have about 2 cups of leftover sauce in the refrigerator.  I guess we'll just have it as a soup.

In the first half of August, kid and I went on a road trip through parts of the country where we have never before traveled.  We drove from the Washington, D.C. suburbs, where we live, down through Virginia, Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi, in order to visit friends in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.  Then we drove on into east Texas to see my former foster son, now grown, and his girlfriend at their home in Santa Fe, near Galveston.  On the way back, we returned through Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia.

It was, in some ways, a different world: not only more desperately hot and humid than I'd imagined, but full of American flag clothing, churches in obscure denominations, shiny white trucks, billboards advertising Jesus, and... surprisingly few Trump signs.  That last made me wonder.  My kid was at times uncomfortable, nervous that they would be singled out for disapproval or, worse, confrontation, on the basis of their purple hair and unconventional gender presentation.  Nothing like that ever happened, though. 

The food was different, too.

Things we ate included: at least 3 meals at a Waffle House.  McDonald's ice cream cones.  Burger King milkshakes.  Fried crawfish po-boys.  Lots of french fries.  Fried catfish.  Steamed shrimp and crab.  Seafood boudin balls.  Something that I ignorantly referred to as "gumbo" but which was actually called "sausage, okra, and shrimp."  Crawfish etouffee.  An amazing caprese salad at a fancy cheese shop in New Orleans, with real bufala mozzarella.  Beignets and cafe au lait at the Cafe du Monde.  Actual gumbo.  A sort of crawfish etouffee- Eggs Benedict.  Pulled pork and more fried seafood, potato salad, coleslaw, baked beans at a barbecue joint in Texas.  Caramel apples covered in additional things like chocolate, marshmallows, and nuts.  Fried shrimp po-boys.  More french fries.  Subway sandwiches (twice) and chips.  Chicken, fried fish, corn fritters, mac & cheese, mashed potatoes from a supermarket deli in Louisiana (eaten in the car with the air conditioning running).  Pineapple soda, Cokes.  Several beers. (On this trip my child learned to like both unsweetened coffee and Coke.  They were also offered beer at least three times-- they declined-- and made their peace with stopping regularly at McDonald's.)  A number of biscuits.  Gross bagels from a motel, sausage and egg sandwich from a motel, Holiday Inn omelets.  Hot chili and lime Takis.   A very nice sushi dinner on a balcony overlooking a river in South Carolina.  Endless cups of bad coffee, an occasional apple or handful of baby carrots or cheese stick or packet of almonds purchased in desperation for something wholesome.

​My kid said they really liked the food in the South, particularly in Louisiana.  I myself feel that I could now go without more fried seafood for at least six months.  And, honestly, I don't really enjoy the plain steamed stuff much.  We never go for crabs here in Maryland.  Maybe I was spoiled by New England lobster and now can't appreciate anything else.  And, while I love french fries, I had enough to satisfy me for a long, long time.  (I could eat more biscuits, though.  I could always eat more biscuits.)

Reading back through the list of things we ate-- now almost two months later-- it sounds sort of decadent and amazing.  At the time, it was just cloying, overwhelming, like swimming in a vat of fry oil.

Dinner tonight was to be two recipes: Deb Perelman's Egg, Potato & Chorizo Tacos with Queso Fresco, and Madhur Jaffrey's Stir-Fried "Foreign Vegetable," i.e. Watercress.  First task was to start the potatoes cooking while I prepped most of the other ingredients (a minor affair).  Then the potatoes were fried with chorizo and onion while I washed up the day's dishes and set queso fresco, chopped raw onion and hot sauce on the table.  In the last 5 minutes, I scrambled the eggs into the potato mixture, quickly stir-fried the watercress, and heated 8 corn tortillas, one by one, on a hot frying pan.  Serve.  Easy-peasy.  The tacos were amazing, the watercress less so.  It looked so wilted in the pan!-- but I found the stems were still tough while eating.  There was way too much salt and sesame oil for the amount of watercress I ended up with, too.  On the other hand, I ate two tacos, holding myself back from a third that I greatly desired, and then continued to think of them all evening in a rather obsessive fashion.  For a simple meal, the tacos really seized my imagination.  Make them, they are easy and worth it.  As for the watercress, you might do just as well feeding it to your cat.

​June 27
An early, before-work breakfast: water with lime, coffee with half and half, smoothie made from vanilla almond coconut milk, honey yogurt, peanut butter, hemp protein powder, peach, strawberries, blueberries, frozen mango, and kale.  This one is not sweet at all, whereas yesterday's was almost cloying.  The main difference seems to be the banana.  Maybe I should start going with half a banana?

At work, all I have is a cup of decaf coffee, black.

When I get home about 2:30, I have a wonderfully wholesome lunch.  Leftover leek soup garnished with some creme fraiche, snipped tarragon and chives; a bowl of mixed raspberries, blueberries, and cherries; and some raw carrots and peppers.  I feel so virtuous.  I also have a cup of regular black coffee, and afterwards another cup of decaf with half and half. 

Shopping (Co-op): can of coconut milk, organic 1% lactose-free milk, half & half, organic lemon juice, quart of plain yogurt, cat treats, unsweetened almond milk, raw goat cheddar, seitan, 2 cans of pinto beans, a cantaloupe, 2 packages small corn tortillas, dried currants, coffee, 4 ears corn, 6 individual Brown Cow yogurts (assorted flavors), strawberries, cilantro, 4 limes, bananas, 4 avocados.  $91.

Dinner is slightly less virtuous, but still fruit-and-vegetable-centric, which is the way I like best to cook.  I roast some mixed root vegetables (the rest of the CSA beets, two farmer's market potatoes, an onion, some farmer's market carrots) with fresh marjoram; also make an apple-and-fennel salad with a lemon-mustard dressing.  My kid has long hated fennel, but recently expressed a desire to try it again.  So I bought fennel at the farmer's market (as well as the Gold Rush apples).  It turns out that, while they still do not love fennel, they no longer hate it.  They eat some; in particular, they seem to find the bulb more edible than the fronds, which of course it is.  So, a pretty good foray.  As an "entree," I just melt some goat cheddar onto slices of whole wheat bread, also from the farmer's market.

​I think I am mighty lucky to have a child who volunteers, of their own free will, to experiment with foods they dislike.  Next thing you know, they'll be eating cucumber.
 
June 28
Breakfast: lemon water, black coffee, smoothie made from vanilla almond coconut milk, honey yogurt, hemp protein powder, canned coconut milk, banana, cantaloupe, and swiss chard.  I totally forgot about my half-a-banana plan that I made yesterday.  Afterwards, I had some decaf with half & half.

At noontime, after my kid and I take a test-run with our new backpacks, another cup of regular coffee with half and half, followed by lunch.  Lunch is a bowl of mixed strawberries, blueberries, cherries, and cantaloupe; some raw carrot and pepper; and half a peanut butter-and-blueberry jam sandwich on whole wheat farmer's market bread.  Actually, the blueberries, cherries, carrot and pepper are from the farmer's market too.  I am eating like a queen.

​After lunch, I do some housecleaning, and don't go out until late afternoon to make a quick trip to REI.  I don't have the chance to have my usual mid-afternoon cup of decaf, and for that reason, or some other reason, I become ravenous while I am out.  There isn't an opportunity for food and drink until about 6 pm, when I stop at a bakery near home to buy the decaf coffee.  Of course, I feel I need some sort of snack, and end up buying a mushroom & cheese turnover.  In retrospect, I can see how a series of poor decisions led to my basically buying dinner an hour before cooking a second dinner at home.  The turnover isn't even very good, but I eat it because I paid for it.

Second dinner at home is vegan, because my kid's girlfriend is staying for supper.  I've had tacos on the brain ever since we had the worst tacos ever in small-town Virginia.  Tonight I put out some local corn tortillas that are not really very good (made in Virginia!  Coincidence?), pinto beans, sauteed seitan (both this and the beans flavored with chili and lime), avocado, tomato, shredded cabbage, onion, cilantro, corn sliced off the cob, green salsa, and bottled hot sauce.  Tacos are always fun, but they are more fun when your tortillas don't disintegrate into bits the minute you try and pick them up.  I have two tacos with kid and girlfriend, and then another one with my husband when he finally arrives home from work at about 9:45 pm.  Also a glass of sherry, which I do not quite finish.

At around 9:00, while waiting for my husband to get home, my kid and I drive through the rain to pick up our CSA box.  We run up the sidewalk to the house where it is delivered, getting soaked with huge drops of rain, and thunder crashing around us.  In the box: big green cabbage, 3 big white onions, 2 heads garlic, 4 cucumbers, 3 summer squash, carrots, leeks... and eggs!  Exciting!  Says farmer Mike about these eggs: "Eggs always start out mostly on the small side then increase in size as the hens gain experience." 
 
June 29
A work day.  Breakfast: water with lime, black coffee, smoothie made from almond milk, honey yogurt, peanut butter, hemp protein powder, banana, strawberries, cantaloupe, and swiss chard.

I didn't quite finish my coffee at home, so I have another cup of black coffee at work, followed by a cup of decaf with half and half.  By the time I finish that, it is almost time to go home (I don't have a lot of time to stand around and drink!)  At home, I have another cup of regular coffee with half and half, and lunch consisting of a leftover taco from last night, with all the fixings except beans, corn and cabbage (those are already gone); raw sliced cucumber and summer squash from the CSA; and a dish of mixed cantaloupe and cherries.  Oh, and one little hard-boiled egg, but the CSA eggs are too fresh: I can't peel it without taking most of the white away with the shell.

​After lunch, another cup of decaf with half and half.

About 4:30, I've recovered from work and go to Safeway to buy food for our hike, as well as supplies for my husband to use while we're gone.  Shopping: Pirate Booty (requested by kid), Wheaties, 2 cans cat food, 3 bags beef jerky, hot cocoa packets, big jug white vinegar, marshmallows, jar of Hershey's chocolate spread, graham crackers, Ritz crackers, Brookside dark chocolate clusters, 2 shrimp-flavored Cup-O-Noodles, 2 rolls paper towels, toilet paper, lactose-free milk, frozen pizza, Amy's frozen lasagna, free-range eggs, 2 cigarette lighters, mini hand sanitizer, rosemary bakery bread, Applegate bacon, nova salmon, bananas, Bing cherries, green grapes, shelled pistachios, Caesar Snapeas, 3 kinds of trail mix, organic baby carrots, strawberries, banana chips, dried apricots, dried broad beans, wasabi chick peas, 2 bags dried banana snacks.  $162.

Dinner is a quick affair, conducted in the midst of elaborately packing our gear for tomorrow.  2 little fried eggs each from the CSA farm, really good Applegate bacon, Safeway bakery rosemary sea salt toast with butter, a little mixed fruit (blueberries and apple from the farmer's market, plus strawberries).

I don't finish all my packing and prep-- plus quickly finishing this post-- until 11:30 at night, by which point I am hungry again, so I go to the kitchen and scarf down a leftover strip of bacon and half a glass of the fairly drinkable honey yogurt from the farmer's market.  That'll hold me.  However, even though it is already late, I have trouble sleeping.  I really wanted a good night's sleep before our hike, but instead I probably get a little over five hours, not nearly enough for me.  Midnight finds me in the kitchen again, yelling at my husband about waking me up by turning the light on and then drinking straight out of the milk carton, which I have forbidden him to do.  My finest moments occur at times like these.