My newest obsession: Instagram. (I realize, everyone is obsessed with it.) Find me at SarahBakerHansen.
Some recent snaps: hot chocolate in my favorite vintage mug, vintage James Beard reading, vodka infusion at Taxi’s Bar and Grille, Lucky Buddha beer at Saigon, Amsterdam Falafel.
Before I returned to journalism and started this blog, I worked at the Sheldon Museum of Art. I’ve always loved the graceful Philip Johnson-designed building on the University of Nebraska-Lincoln campus.
If you haven’t been there, I highly recommend checking it out the next time you’re in Lincoln. It’s free. One current exhibition includes a collection of Andy Warhol’s Polaroid photographs, and another focuses on the tumultuous nature of artist’s relationships (and includes work from Georgia O’Keeffe, Alfred Stieglitz, Robert Rauschenberg, Jasper Johns, Arthur Dove, Edward Hopper, and Robert Henri.) The museum also has a lovely store that sells lots of beautiful items, and also loads of books, including the gem I’m writing about today.
The Sheldon Art Association (then called the Nebraska Art Association) published the book in 1978. It includes recipes from board members, but also from artists.
I would like to try Keith Jacobshagen’s chili and Robert Motherwell’s Late Supper.
Of course, Runzas.
A list of glamorous-sounding party meals (and one for 200 diners!)
Norman Geske, former director of Sheldon, loves a Negroni. In fact, the museum served them at his 95th birthday party, which happened while I worked there.
The best thing of all, though, is that the Sheldon Gallery cookbook is still available for purchase in the Sheldon Museum Store. To get your own copy, visit the museum or call 402-472-2461.
Top image courtesy of the Sheldon Museum of Art. All other images courtesy the Sheldon Gallery Cookbook.
Meat loaf is sort of pedestrian. It’s sort of old-school and maybe a touch boring.
But I love it.
When I was growing up, meat loaf was one of my mom’s standard dinners, and also one of my favorites. In my meatless years, I made at least a couple of meat loaves with boca crumblers and seitan.
Last week it was so cold in Omaha, and one night, I just got the craving for a meatloaf, a side of mashed potatoes and a pile of green beans.
I turned to the New York Times, where I found an updated variation on meat loaf thanks to Florence Fabricant, and a Craig Claiborne classic recipe that’s worth a gander for his writing alone.
“There is almost no herb or spice that, used with discretion, would not marry handsomely with a meritorious meat loaf.”
Indeed. I studded mine with sauteed leeks and baby bella mushrooms and flavored it with lots of oregano and Italian seasonings. And next time, I’ll definitely make one of Claiborne’s sauces to accompany my meritorious meat loaf.
As I walked past my mailbox one day this week, I saw the latest issue of Martha Stewart Living was waiting for me. And I was excited. Because I really like Martha. There. I said it.
(That’s Martha from her modeling days. Isn’t she fashionable?)
When I got the new issue, I started thinking about how long I’ve been reading Martha’s magazines and crusing her websites for ideas.
I’ve long been a subscriber to Martha Stewart’s Everyday Food magazine, a tiny little book that taught me how to cook when I didn’t yet know Mark Bittman. More recently, I started to subscribe to Martha Stewart Living and Whole Living. I have two of Martha’s iPad apps: the Cookies app (thanks dad!) and the Whole Living Smoothies app. I want her Cocktails app, too. I made a wreath from her special Holiday 2011 handbook, and I’ve been excited to read her 2012 handbook on organizing. I did a very memorable seven-day detox partially based on one I found in Whole Living.
This post, though, really isn’t about Martha as a person, or about her huge company, or about whether you like her or not. And for the record, it’s not a sponsored post, though the friendly PR girls at the magazine did send me the photos I requested.
It’s about Martha as a measuring stick.
My mom subscribed me to Everyday Food, (wayyy back in 2007, I think) and I’d go through each magazine, marking recipes that I wanted to try with yellow post-its. I tried many of them, and some, like this one, made it into my personal arsenal of “never fail” recipes that I now make from memory.
I remember when I used to look at the pages of Martha Stewart Living, it was beyond anything I thought I could ever do. I wouldn’t be cooking dinner for lots of people. I wouldn’t be growing a garden. I had no talent when it came to making wreaths or arranging flowers. The only thing I really knew how to cook was spaghetti.
And now, six years later, here am I writing a food blog, working as a food reporter and restaurant critic, cooking at home, playing host to parties and pot lucks, gardening in my backyard. Doing basically everything I once thought I’d never, ever do (even though I always wished I could.)
I still get Everyday Food in the mail and I still flip through it. But I’m much more interested now in the beautiful recipes in Martha Stewart Living — the ones that were once unattainable. I think it would be so fun to have a beer tasting complete with snacks like smoky parsnip crisps and bacon blue-cheese sandwiches and roasted buffalo shrimp. I’m sure my friends wouldn’t protest. (And I share the shrimp recipe below.)
Martha gives me ideas. And though I may not become an expert at organizing or cleaning or baking, I’ll keep learning and trying new things — that’s what it’s all about, right?
Roasted Buffalo Shrimp
Active/Total Time 15 min.
Makes about 40. Serves 8.
This novel twist on Buffalo wings is a terrific way to kick off a casual party. Serve the shrimp and dip with cucumber spears, celery stalks, and wedges of crunchy fennel.
Finely grated zest of 2 lemons (2 tablespoons) plus 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 garlic cloves, minced
¾ teaspoon celery seeds
2½ teaspoons sweet paprika
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper, or more to taste Coarse salt
2 tablespoons honey
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1½ pounds large shrimp, peeled and deveined, tails intact
1 cup sour cream
¼ cup pale-green celery leaves, finely chopped
1. Preheat oven to 450°. Place 2 rimmed baking sheets in oven to heat. Stir together lemon zest, garlic, celery seeds, paprika, cayenne, 2 teaspoons salt, the honey, and oil in a large bowl. Add shrimp, and toss to coat well.
2. Place shrimp in a single layer on hot pans. Roast, without flipping, until browned on bottoms and opaque throughout, about 5 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, make the dip: Stir together lemon juice, sour cream, celery leaves, and ¼ teaspoon salt.
Vintage photo via Styleite.com. Beer tasting photo by Johnny Miller. Copyright 2012. Originally published in the March 2012 issue of Martha Stewart Living. Recipe courtesy of Martha Stewart Living.
Top to bottom: morning snow, crock pot of chili simmering for dinner, hot chocolate thanks to Ben and Stephanie, new vintage mug, today’s footwear of choice. Snow days aren’t too bad every once in a while. Stay warm!
I’d never made Runzas before, but I’d always wanted to try. When I wasn’t eating meat, I often had a craving for the sandwich, and when I started eating meat again, one of the first things I had was a Runza. I made the mistake, though, of ordering my first Runza at Memorial Stadium during a Nebraska game. It was smooshed. And lukewarm. And not that great. (For those who are saying “what’s a Runza? Try one when you’re in Nebraska. But in the meantime, click here.)
So when my friend Quentin asked me to try making a meatless Runza for our most recent pot luck, I really wanted to give it a go. I’d seen a recipe for vegan Runzas on the Post Punk Kitchen and decided to use it. Technically, my version of the sandwich wasn’t vegan, as I couldn’t find soy yogurt. I used regular yogurt and regular milk.
The Runzas turned out great. I did bake them for an extra five minutes, so they’d be golden brown. I was nervous to cut one open at the party, but when I did, they looked just like the picture on Isa’s blog. The bread tasted very similar to an actual Runza, and the filling had lots of flavor and a nice bite.
They were a huge hit at the party, and something that I’ll definitely make again.
I hadn’t kneaded dough in years — in fact, since I worked at a bakery when I was 17 — but I remembered how to do it just fine. (Though I will say my wrists and hands were super sore the next day.) The dough didn’t rise all that much in the bowl, and I was a bit concerned, but the Runzas rose fine in the oven and turned a lovely shade of gold.
So yesterday I posted a response to an article in the New York Times about how it was difficult to eat meatless in the Midwest. Today, I figured I’d put my money where my mouth is and post a list of places that I like to eat meatless in Omaha and Lincoln.
Please post your own favorites in the comments or on my Omavore Facebook page.
Lincoln has three completely meat-free restaurants, and I’ve been to two of the three. Yesterday, I learned about Pepe’s Veggie Bistro in Havelock. I haven’t been there, but it gets great reviews on Yelp. I’m going there the next time I’m in the capitol city.
Grateful Bread/Freakbeat Vegetarian: Seriously, this place is so good. No meat in sight. The Moroccan tomato soup is notorious for haunting people’s dreams. My personal favorite is the Santa Fe Chowder. The restaurant also serves delicious cheese scones, bread, muffins, cookies and a daily selection of macaroni and cheese. Don’t expect to be alert after lunch if you down a plate of the mac.
Maggie’s Vegetarian Cafe: I have a lot of love for the baked tofu wrap at Maggie’s. It’s delish, and also vegan. I remember eating it before I really knew how to cook tofu and it served as inspiration for me to get to work in my own kitchen.
The Blue Orchid: This downtown Thai place isn’t meat-free, but my goodness, the meat-free items on its menu are great. I prefer the panang curry, ordered with extra-large rectangles of tofu that help soak up the ridiculously good, spicy sauce.
Bread & Cup: Delicious hummus, a wonderful peanut and apple butter sandwich and a rotating selection of pizzas and pastas make this cute cafe in the Haymarket district a good veg stop, though the menu does include meat. It has always reminded me of Lincoln’s more contemporary version of La Buvette.
Omaha doesn’t have any completely meat free restaurants at the moment. But there are still many options. I listed a few in my post yesterday. Here are a few more:
Tapas at Espana: Many are meatless, both hot and cold. Plus, the tiny Benson spot has atmosphere to spare and great sangria.
I’ve already gone on in the paper about my love for brunch at Dixie Quicks, particularly about my love for the soyiso scramble, a really great vegetarian dish that’s like none other. Also, pancakes. Apple brie omelets. Sexual chocolate French toast. A new dish called cappuccino eggs that you have to try. Anyway. You get the idea.
Blue Planet Natural Grill is casual, not too pricey and has a great selection of veggie burgers with good toppings. I prefer the black bean burger. I also love the veggie burger at the Upstream, of all places. The brew pub used to serve the sort of pre-made burgers you can buy at the grocery store, but now it’s a spicy homemade patty that even my meat-eating husband loves. And while on the topic of burgers, the spiced lentil veggie burger at Blanc is pretty darn good, too.
The Shrooms pizza at Pitch. Be still, my beating heart. That pizza and a glass of wine make me a happy woman.
Finally, a note on cooking at home.
When I stopped eating meat, it forced me to learn how to cook. I couldn’t eat fast food burgers any more. I couldn’t buy a pre-packaged dinner from the grocery store.
I cannot stress enough how much Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian changed my view of both cooking (it wasn’t hard) and meatless food (it could be delicious.)
My husband bought it for me just after I stopped eating meat and I didn’t know what to cook or how to cook anything, really. I remember he came home from a trip with it in his bag — at more than 1,000 pages, this is commitment — and told me the woman at the store told him to tell me not to be scared that it didn’t have any pictures. So I’ll tell you: Don’t be scared. It doesn’t have any pictures.
I’ll never stop praising this book, or it’s author. For anyone out there who doesn’t already own it, buy it today and start reading it. My copy is stained. It has bookmarks throughout and folded pages to identify things I always need, or things I want to try or things I already love. The dust cover is worn and torn. And even though I eat meat now, I refer to it again and again and again.
Top two photos courtesy of the Library of Congress. Third photo courtesy of the Office of War Information.
So for the past five days, I’ve been on a detox diet.
I’m on the diet for a story that I’m working on about the fad of detox and cleanse diets, and the story will be partly about my personal experience. Let me just say that Wednesday (a.k.a. “day seven,” the final day!) can’t get here soon enough.
Though I also know it could be worse: my friend Quentin sent me a clip from “This American Life” where a reporter went on a three-week fast without any solid food.
So yesterday, after a trip to the Asian market, which is always a fun adventure, I made miso soup. A lot of the recipes on the diet I’m following fall firmly into the “bland” category, and I’ve been having poor results with a lot of them — they just haven’t been turning out right, which is pretty frustrating.
This soup was an exception. It was really tasty, and actually pretty closely resembled the miso soup I’ve had at Japanese restaurants, though because my diet doesn’t include soy, mine didn’t have tofu.
Miso Soup (adapted from a cleanse designed by Dr. Alejandro Junger.)
6 cups water
a bit less than a half cup of dried bonito flakes (find them at the Asian Market, 321 N 76th St.)
3 dried Shitake mushrooms, plus a handful more that you reconstitute separately (find them at the Asian Market.)
1/2 cup (or to taste) dried wakame (it’s the green stuff you see floating in the bowl above. Also from the Asian Market.)
6 tbsp miso paste (I used light miso, but use what you like best. It’s in the refrigerated section of the Asian Market by the produce.)
matchstick sliced carrots and zucchini and sliced white mushrooms (you can add whatever type of vegetables you like.)
I suggest adding Tofu if you are not on a soy-free diet.
Heat the water in a medium pot and when bubbles begin to form around the edge, add the bonito flakes. Turn the heat down and simmer for two minutes, then turn off the heat and let the broth sit for five minutes. Strain the broth and discard the bonito flakes.
Return the broth to a clean pot and add the three dried shitakes and the wakame to the broth and simmer over low heat for 20 minutes. Pull out the mushrooms, discard the stems and slice the tops. Add the vegetables of your choice and raise the heat a bit, but be careful not to boil the soup.
In a small bowl, blend the miso paste with a bit of the broth and whisk together. Pour the miso mixture into the pot and stir, then let the soup simmer for about ten minutes.
It’s a tradition on the Hansen side of my family to have a wintertime mulled wine party. My mother-in-law brews up a big vat of mulled wine along with hot chocolate and hot tea and my father-in-law builds a big campfire in a pretty clearing next to Indian Creek, near their house. Fixings for s’mores are, of course, mandatory.
Lots of friends and family come to the party, which this year was unseasonably warm. We’ve mulled wine in much colder weather and drank it while shivering and standing in ankle-deep snow before, so not even having to wear a winter coat this year was a welcome change.
I share a recipe at the end of this post that’s similar to Sally’s recipe. A big batch would be a great way to ring in the New Year.
Mulled Wine, via Epicurious
serves 8
2 (3-inch) cinnamon sticks
5 cardamom pods
3 black peppercorns
4 whole cloves
1 1/4 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups water
1 (750-ml) bottle dry red wine such as Côtes du Rhône
1 vanilla bean, halved lengthwise
1 small orange, thinly sliced
1 small lemon, thinly sliced
Special equipment: a 6- by 4-inch piece of cheesecloth; kitchen string
Wrap cinnamon sticks, cardamom pods, peppercorns, and cloves in cheesecloth and tie with string. Bring sugar and water to a boil in a 5-quart heavy pot, stirring until sugar is dissolved, then add spice bag, wine, vanilla bean, and fruit. Simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, 3 minutes.
A handful of Omaha chefs were kind enough to answer a question or two about their holiday traditions for the paper earlier this week. I asked them all one more question to feature on the blog: “What is your favorite holiday dish?” See the first two here. Enjoy!
Chef Clayton Chapman, The Grey Plume: Cheesy potatoes! The traditional casserole with loads of cheese and sour cream.
Chef Jessica Joyce, New York Chicken and Gyros: Although I am honestly crazy about pasta and 
always ate more than my fair share I can’t help but mention turkey skin with mashed potatoes and gravy. I loved peeling the crisp, golden brown, greasy skin from the turkey and making little skin cups that I would then fill with mashed potatoes and gravy. As an adult I now gravitate towards more sophisticated things, especially tourtieres, except when nobody’s looking!
Chef Jesus Rivera, Rivera’s Mexican restaurant: Pecan Pie, and my wife’s pasta salad is to die for.
Chef Jon Seymour, V. Mertz: My family always had a bowl of mashed
potatoes topped by the homemade chicken and noodles. It’s reminiscent of high school cafeteria turkey gravy over mashed potatoes, but exceedingly better.
Chef Gina Sterns, Dolce Cafe: Paraguayan corn bread, called Chipa Guazu. This is from a period of my life I spent in Paraguay South America.
Some of the chefs also shared recipes; find them here.
Happy Holidays!
OMAvore 