Unstink the "Tupperware"

Sure, this blog is MOSTLY just here to help link the traditional definition of the word "geek" (a sideshow performer paid to eat anything), with the sexier, modern definition of the word "geek." (An adult who owns at least one dinosaur t-shirt, and who boasts about high school unpopularity while going out for drinks.)

However!!!

On this occasion, I've figured out something useful, and a-here it will a-go-go.

My husband and I cook with garlic and other strong-smelling foods, and our "Tupperware" (sometimes actually "Gladware" or "Snap Ware" or "leftover tubs that used to have yogurt in them") will sometimes become haunted by the smell of garlic long after it's been washed.

(I love this stuff. Thanks, Dad! Thanks, Costco!)

LUCKILY, I've discovered that letting a heap of a nice slurry of water and baking soda settle at the bottom of one'o these beauties for a while will exorcise the lingering garlic smell effectively enough to store sensitive foods like vanilla pudding later, without unsavory, savory, unsavory consequences.

The more you know!

If you put glasses on it, my kitchen looks like a duck.

Well, this silicone oven mitt does, anyway. Particularly when I put my sweet new glasses on it. I'm especially pleased with how the paper towels enhanced the whole scene, too.

I don't mean to quack myself up, but I think this is pretty ducking fabulous.

I know, right?!? Buttered noodles, broccoli, and shaved sharp white cheddar

Why yes! Thank you for noticing. I did make a tablecloth out of black duct tape. It's absolutely perfect, too. Very tailored.

I also boiled some penne noodles in oiled, salted water until al dente. I tossed them with steamed broccoli florets, a big pile of shaved vintage white cheddar (Tilamook, of course), and a couple of tablespoons of melted butter.

The flavor's mild, because I really want to taste every ingredient. Even the pasta. (Pasta tastes good!) But I could definitely picture somebody adding cracked pepper to this, if doing that helped 'em out. In fact, I might do that halfway through eating this, if I start to get bored. I'm not above doing that, sometimes.

There, I already did it. Halfway through the dish, and I added a little pepper. I'm ambivalent about that decision, though.

A note about the cheese:

Because I'm eating this as an entrée, not as a side dish, I've opted to go pretty heavy with the cheese. However, this dish might also go really well alongside a medium rare steak. In fact, now I'm hungry for steak while I'm typing this. Fuck! What was I saying? Oh, yeah.

So if you're pairing this dish with another big pile of delicious animal fats... LOOK OUT!!! Like, dine at your own risk, man.

Holy Christ send help, I made too much rice.

No, seriously. That pot in the last entry, filled to the top with rice, is a fucking 3.5 quart soup pot. BEFORE most of the rice was fluffed.

I don't have children. I'm not expecting guests. My husband is not participating in my Americanized Versions Of Indian Food phase, for reasons I accept without comprehending, so I'm going to have to eat, eat, eat, or concede defeat.

Dear Lord, what in the crazy madness go nuts Hell did I do?!?

... And what's with the blasphemy, here? Jesus.

There it goes again!!!

Well, I'm listening to The Beatles' Abby Road, so it's obviously their fucking fault, fucking English creeps.

I accidentally cooked perfect rice.

Right?!? How did I do this?!? I never do this!!!

This rice does not only look perfectly cooked on camera, either. It's as fluffy and chewy as the stuff in restaurants. And I made a FREAKISHLY HUGE quantity of it.

So, what happened? I Googled rice cooking like I do every time, and this time, I found this link:

How to Cook Rice - Jasmine Rice

I liked the idea of just eyeballin' the ratios, so I decided to pick this recipe. I started with what I thought was too much water, but I wandered away while waiting for it to boil, and when I wandered back something like 40 to 400 seconds later, it was not only boiling, but that inch-y quantity of water over the rice was gone. I panicked, scraped the bottom of the pot with a metal spoon (no browned or burned bits! Must've caught it early), added a bunch of cold water from the kettle to the rice, panicked because it was supposed to be cooking, not cold- ing, tasted the rice, found it halfway cooked, and decided to keep cooking it. And keep adding water. And keep cooking it.

For the most part, if/when it was cooking, it was just simmering. And because I had no idea how much rice or water I'd used, or even how long it had truly been cooking, I kept tasting it. And when it was somehow freakishly perfect, I took it off the burner. The rice wasn't even damp! Or burnt! 

I made a huge pile of it, so I'll have rice to do all kinds of stuff with for the next while. I'll probably make rice pudding, later.

For today, I pan-fried little dice-sized cubes of the firmest tofu I could nab, and then simmered it in some stuff from Safeway. Best decision ever? Or just the best decision I've made in the past hour? Maybe both. But probably just the latter, because I've also been doing academic homework today, because FUCKIN' A THAT'S RIGHT, I'M IN GRAD SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!!! And I'm eating a lunch that I really like:

Here's a photo of my bag of rice (a gift from a relative who was cleaning bulk stuff from her pantry), and a photo of the empty butter chicken sauce jar, and a photo of the ripped up container that the tofu cubes came in. (THEY WERE ALREADY CUBED, RIGHT THERE IN THE PACKAGE!!!!!!!)

(Eew, that is a messy-looking, discarded package that once held tofu. What kind of jackass would put that in a food blog?!? Ugh. It's like, " only show food- grade food, or don't show anything, man.")

This guy!