Kitchen Confessions
Episode 1: Playing with my food
A Dash of Play, a Pinch of Chaos, and One Odd Ingredient
Lately, I’ve been playing with my food. Home alone most days, lunch time has become playtime. Tired of chopping salads, a couple of months ago, I pulled out other kitchen tools besides the usual cutting board and the chef’s knife. Thus, a pan, heat, and odd bits and pieces from the refrigerator became my playground.
In the past, faced with odd pieces in the line-up, I’d search Google for a recipe containing x, y, z. Often, the reason I would look up a recipe based on a list of ingredients was to prove myself that I am not crazy, that other people have cooked similar dishes and perhaps combined strange(r) pantry or refrigerator items. Funny, this need to validate sanity.
Most times, however, I deviate from recipes either by substituting ingredients or changing the procedure, simplifying it to my understanding.
Since the author of the recipe is not watching over my shoulder, and I’m not competing on a cooking show, who’s going to care that the result is different than prescribed? And if I ever return to that recipe, it is unlikely that the next rendition will be the same (due to different oddities in the line-up).
This time, one of the strange items was the olive oil from a can of sardines emptied the day before. Until then, I used to soak it up with a paper towel and toss it, unsure of its possible use. But the day before, I had an urge to keep it.
I hadn’t heard anyone use oil from a fish can, hadn’t read any blogs or watched any influencer claiming patent for such a procedure. So, I kept it till further use. After all, it was olive oil with a vague taste of fish.
And this time, I refused to ask Google-on-the-shelf if the web mentioned anything about this topic. I also refrained from browsing for a recipe with this list of ingredients leftover from the salad I chopped the day before: half of a green bell pepper, some roasted kale, half of an avocado, one purple heirloom tomato (I’m not sure the color mattered, it’s what I had), and two eggs before the “Best by” date.
The olive oil had solidified in the container it had been in the fridge. I scraped it into the pan, heated it, threw in the chopped bell pepper and fried the bits for a minute or two. Who watches the clock when recipes tell how long to fry the diced onions or garlic? Well, my husband, when he makes oatmeal. (I leave the kitchen strategically, before I even give myself the chance to say anything.) When the bell pepper turned bright green, I gave it a few more swirls with the wooden spoon, then added half of the tomato I had chopped up in the meantime. It seemed like a good idea.
Swooshed everything around till the tomato became pasty and coated the bell pepper, then poked out the seed from the avocado, scooped out half of that half and added it into the pan next to my other victims. Again, it seemed like a good idea, especially because I had never seen anyone doing it before. What’s the worst that can happen? I imagined Chef Gabriela Camara cringing at the murdered fruit in the pan. In her Masterclass, while making a salsa verde cruda, she treats an exquisite and perfectly ripe avocado as if it were the crown jewelry.
To my surprise, the avocado melted into the bell pepper and tomatoes, creating a creamy, unexpected sauce. When I judged it warm, I tumbled in the roasted kale—solidified overnight, its oil clinging stubbornly to the container like it had second thoughts. A few quick stirs, and it was time for the eggs to make their grand entrance.
That gave me pause. Eggs had been an endangered species at my local Trader Joe’s that month. After this meal, I’d be down to just two, left waiting for the next rare restock. Still, I cracked them into the pan, nestled them among the veggies, and broke them up with the spoon, mixing them into the chaos.
Strangely, they took their time cooking, unlike every other day, when eggs seemed to cook faster than my ability to process life itself. When they were incorporated and showed golden peaks from among the greenery, I decided the dish needed seasoning. The Chile Lime seasoning from Trader Joe’s has been my pillar recently. It made its cameo here, as well. Then came the chopped parsley that had dried in the fridge from a few meals ago. Stored in an open container, it dried, but did not turn moldy. It softened on top of the “dish.”
It was time to plate the food. I had not tasted it till then. I wanted to surprise myself at the end. And surprised I was. Not too bad for a recipe-less dish. My greatest doubt had been the sardines-can-olive-oil. It delivered. My latest “no food thrown away” mantra paid off. The fish taste was just a hint at its residents from a few days before. The chile lime seasoning lent the thing a citrusy taste and a bit of spice. Oh, I almost forgot! I sliced up the rest of the tomato and the quarter of the avocado and placed everything on top of the mound I made on the plate.
Days later, I couldn't resist the urge to look up whether using oil from a fish can was “a thing.” Turns out, I wasn’t a genius after all. Justine Doiron from Justine Snacks, author of Justine Cooks, had developed a recipe starting with the oil from a can of anchovies she was going to use in her creation.
Even if I could no longer brag about my groundbreaking (for me) discovery, I could at least (1) verify I wasn’t crazy, (2) take pride in using something others might throw away, and (3) enjoy a tasty dish that filled my heart. And my stomach.
It had clearly been an experiment. Could this be applied to real life? Throw in a weird ingredient and wait to see what happens?
While I didn’t know what to call the dish, it opened the gate to many games I could play in the future in my kitchen.
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Have you ever made food with odd bits and pieces left around in the refrigerator, not wanting to waste them? What did you make and… did you like the result?