I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions, but I have a few goals for 2012 – and one of my biggest aspirations is to stop wasting food. I have three terrible habits I’d like to change:

1) Overbuying fresh food and watching it go bad because either I forget it’s in my fridge, or I don’t stick to our weekly meal plan and use ingredients purchased for specific recipes. I’ve gotten better about this since becoming more diligent about meal planning, but there’s still room for improvement.

2) Buying pantry staples or frozen foods and losing them in the abyss of our cupboards and freezer. Right now, I have roughly 4 pounds of dried beans, numerous cans of diced tomatoes, five unopened bags of frozen fruits and veggies, a large assortment of half-full boxes of pasta…the list goes on. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Again, meal planning helps me use what’s in my pantry and freezer, but I can do better.

3) Letting leftovers wither and die in our fridge. I hate leftovers, particularly leftover meat. Corey eats them more willingly, but if he can’t finish every bit of leftover chicken, pork, pasta, etc., we find ourselves transferring food from storage containers to the compost bin. I’m also notoriously bad for storing various recipe scraps – half a can of pumpkin, or the dregs of a container of pasta sauce – and never using them in future recipes.

I invest a lot of time and money into the food we eat, and it’s sad to see it end up in the trash. I got a jump start on my goal this weekend when I found myself with a few ounces of leftover pork tenderloin and some frozen edamame and pineapple that had to be used before they succumbed to freezer burn.

Everything came together in a variation of a fried rice recipe I’ve been making for years. It’s not quite the same as the fried rice you’d order in your favorite Chinese restaurant, but it tastes great, is fairly healthy and is easy to whip up with just about anything you can find in your own freezer and fridge. Here’s hoping we all waste less food in the new year!

Pineapple, Pork and Edamame Fried Rice

inspired by Cooking Light

serves 3 – 4

3 large eggs, lightly beaten

4 oz cooked pork tenderloin (or any leftover meat), cubed

1 small onion, chopped

1 medium carrot, peeled and diced small

1 tsp minced ginger

1 tsp minced garlic

3 tsp canola oil, divided

3/4 c frozen edamame, thawed and drained of excess moisture

3/4 c frozen pineapple, thawed and drained of excess moisture

1 1/2 cups cooked rice (I used brown rice, but white is fine too)

3 tbsp hoisin sauce

2 tbsp low-sodium soy sauce

1 tbsp rice wine vinegar

1 tsp sesame oil

Whisk the hoisin sauce, soy sauce, vinegar and sesame oil in a small bowl and set aside. Combine the ginger, garlic and 1 tsp canola oil in another small bowl and set aside.

Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium high heat. Add 1 tsp oil and, when shimmering, add the egg and cook like an omelet, swirling around the pan and lifting the edges to allow additional uncooked egg to reach the bottom of the pan. When the egg is mostly set, use a spatula to gently flip it and cook lightly on the other side. Remove the egg from the pan and set aside. (Note: you can also quickly scramble the egg, if you prefer.)

Heat an additional 1 tsp oil in the skillet and add the chopped onion and carrot. Stir fry until the vegetables are softened and starting to brown, about three minutes. Add the pork, edamame and pinapple and cook for one minute. Add the ginger/garlic/oil mixture and cook one minute more.

Add the rice, breaking up any clumps, and cook for 2  minutes. (If you’d like more of a “fried” texture, add the rice to the pan and do not stir.) Chop the egg into small pieces and add to the pan, followed by the sauce. Cook about 30 seconds more until the sauce is heated through.

Most of my childhood was spent in the Midwest, but I moved to North Carolina when I was 15 and stayed until I was 28. Those formative years yielded a deep appreciation for Southern cuisine, and now that I live on the west coast I often lament the fact that authentic country delicacies are hard to find in my new environment. When California restaurants tackle Southern food, they turn simple fare into (unnecessarily) fancy and overpriced haute cuisine. I don’t like paying exorbitant prices for fried chicken, collard greens and mashed potatoes. I don’t care if it’s all organic and cooked with fancy spices and oils. I just want it to taste real, and I want it to taste good!

Foodbuzz 24×24 offered an opportunity to cook some Southern classics for my San Francisco friends. Some of these friends are just like me: Southern transplants in need of good home cooking. Others are native Californians who don’t know the important difference between grits and polenta. I couldn’t promise that my efforts would be as tasty as an established country grandma’s, but I could guarantee that we’d all have a good time and enjoy food not normally found in a California kitchen. My goal for this meal was to experiment with recipes, ingredients and techniques that were completely new to me. It would have been easier to fall back on my reliable recipes for NC pulled pork, cole slaw and baked beans, but I wanted to reach beyond my comfort zone and try a full repertoire of country classics.

First up: one of the dishes that scared me the most…collard greens. Done well, they’re tender and smoky with a subtle tang. Done poorly, they’re mushy and gritty and gross. I armed myself with a fabulous recipe (from this cookbook), a fabulous flavoring agent (ham hocks, where have you been all my life?!), and a fabulous friend, Leslie, who is ten times the Southern belle I could ever hope to be.

After an hour or two on the stove, that massive pile of collards cooked down in a salty broth filled with dark, tender greens and meat that fell right off the bones of the ham hock. No gritty, mushy collards here; these were nicely flavored with a bit of heat coming from a few teaspoons of crushed red pepper flakes.

My second challenge: buttermilk biscuits. I was instantly terrified when my mother (who I consider an expert baker) told me that even her biscuits turn out like hockey pucks. Biscuits, like pie crust, are temperamental, becoming tough and tasteless if you overmix or overhandle the dough. Since my own mother couldn’t weigh in with a great recipe, I consulted a real Southern mama named Valerie, who – according to her daughter – has been making wonderful biscuits for most of her life. The recipe was simple, with self-rising flour, buttermilk, baking powder, and the power combo of butter and Crisco. Mix, roll, cut and bake. Easy, right?

Turns out it’s not that simple. I think I rolled the dough a bit too thin, because these were laughably small. Maybe you can’t tell from this aerial view…

…but this side-by-side comparison with Pillsbury biscuits really shows how tiny mine were. (Yes, I had bake and serve biscuits as a backup. My mama didn’t raise no fool!)

Does size matter? Probably not. These tasted pretty good, and they weren’t hard or tough, so I guess that’s the most important thing. My friends pointed out that two mini biscuits were perfect stackers for a ham sandwich.

After tackling the biscuits and collards, I felt more comfortable with the remaining dishes, which were still outside my comfort zone but not nearly as stressful to make.

Hushpuppies - fried, buttered (or ketchuped) and happily consumed as a pre-dinner appetizer. Rather than making these from scratch, I used a mix imported from Oak Ridge, NC. They were oniony and sweet, just as a hushpuppy should be.

Chicken and dumplings, made the North Carolina way. These are not biscuity dumplings; rather, they’re noodle-like pastry thrown into simmering chicken broth and cooked until tender and puffy. You can add veggies if you wish, but most traditional recipes are a simple combination of broth, chicken and the dumplings themselves. It’s little more than a basic chicken soup, but it still feels special.

Creamed corn, made under the capable hand of my friend Melissa. The combination of sweet, fresh corn with butter and half and half made this dish part vegetable, part dessert. It was absolute heaven and a far cry from any canned version.

Hoppin’ John, a salty combination of field peas, bacon, crushed tomatoes and long grain rice. I made this dish in advance and reheated it before dinner. This dried it out a bit, which was somewhat disappointing, but the flavors were nice.

And to accompany the aforementioned biscuits, a true Southern classic – country ham. You can’t find country ham outside the south, but through the magic of mail order, I procured one for this special occasion. We couldn’t be prouder of our little bundle of pork.

Country ham is distinguished by a strong salty flavor. As my friend Leslie aptly pointed out, some are so salty that they make you hurt. This one was pleasantly mild, but still offered that traditional briney twang. We brought it to room temperature, sliced it and served it as-is, with the option to add it to a  buttered biscuit.

All of the above was washed down with two bonafide Southern beverages: sweet tea, expertly prepared by Leslie…

…and Cheerwine, a cherry soda bottled in Salisbury, NC. Corey recalls a moment in his childhood when he visited family in West Virginia and was shocked to learn that this sweet nectar isn’t widely available outside North Carolina. It’s a true regional beverage, delicious on its own or mixed with a bit of gin, lime and club soda.

No Southern meal is complete without dessert, and our menu included two classics. Banana pudding (made by Melissa using this recipe, but with half the sweetened condensed milk and only 2.5 cups regular milk):

And Red Velvet Cake, made by me using this recipe:

The cake looked impressive – gorgeous color, perfect cream cheese frosting – but the taste was a bit lackluster. Maybe it was still too cold from being in the fridge overnight. Maybe I overbaked it. Maybe red velvet cake just isn’t that awesome. I was bummed about the final product, but instantly felt better after a few bites of Melissa’s banana pudding. That woman may hail from  Vermont, but she does the South proud with her ‘nana puddin!

As we gathered around the table to fill our plates, I was reminded of the thing I love most about Southern meals: they’re all about friends and family coming together to celebrate traditions, new and old. I was  surrounded by friends I’ve known for a long time…

…friends I’ve made since moving to San Francisco…

…and friends who like to randomly recreate scenes from Top Gun.

I’m thankful these friends were willing to sample my Southern experiments and give me valuable feedback on each dish. I’ll continue to tweak them and share the fruits of my labors at future group dinners. I’m not a bonafide country chef, but I’m as close as a Midwestern-Southern-West Coast hybrid can ever hope to be.

*****

If you’re curious about Southern cooking, please look beyond the world of Paula Deen and consider a few of these resources, which helped me create the meal featured in today’s post:

This cookbook is my new Southern foods bible. It’s friendly enough for newbies and experts alike, with a nice collection of recipes from various Southern states. If you’re new to country cuisine, this book provides an excellent introduction (and tasty results).

The chefs behind that cookbook, Matt Lee and Ted Lee, have a wonderful online store filled with Southern staples. I purchased my Cheerwine, hushpuppy mix and field peas there; other goodies include Duke’s mayonnaise, fruit preserves, canned pickled vegetables and true country grits. I was impressed by their selection and their excellent customer service.

Other Southern goodies are available via mail order from A Southern Season in Chapel Hill, NC. Country ham and other NC treats are just a mouse click away.

Of course, you don’t need to mail order anything special to create a delicious Southern meal – many recipes rely on fresh, seasonal vegetables and pantry staples found in most major grocery stores. But it sure is fun to experiment with treats only available below the Mason-Dixon line.

I’m usually wary of recipes that promise huge shortcuts in traditionally labor-intensive dishes. Usually, such dishes are labor intensive because they need a little extra time and effort to  become something spectacular. Risotto is a prime example of this; you stir and stir and stir to release starch and give the dish its trademark creamy consistency. I’ve made traditional risotto recipes in the past and didn’t really mind the long cooking and stirring process, but admittedly, the time commitment prevents me from making it on a regular basis.

Therefore, I was quite intrigued with a recent Cook’s Illustrated article promising an Almost Hands-Free Risotto. The article suggested we can avoid constant stirring by cooking the rice in a covered, heavy-bottomed Dutch oven to ensure slow, even heat. You stir for a few minutes in the beginning and a few more minutes at the end, but the rest of the process is similar to cooking any old rice: you let it simmer until the liquid is absorbed. I had my doubts, but the final product was just as creamy and tasty as any traditional risotto recipe.

I chose to flavor my risotto with chicken and herbs, though you could certainly leave out the meat for a nice vegetarian option. My only complaint – and this is a complaint I have with most risotto recipes – is that I felt the flavor of the wine was a bit strong for my tastes. I don’t know what it is about white wine; I love drinking it by the glass, but it seems too twangy and pungent when it reduces down in a recipe. I’ve used cheap wines, pricey wines, they’re all the same. Corey thought this had a nice wine flavor that wasn’t overpowering, so it’s probably just my weird taste buds. Regardless, this was perfect, easy comfort food that made our Sunday night a little more exciting – and there were tons of leftovers to make Monday lunch less dull than usual.

Easy Risotto with Chicken and Herbs

adapted from Cook’s Illustrated

serves 6 as a main course, more as a side dish

5 c chicken broth

2 c water

1 tbsp olive oil

2 bone-in, skin-on chicken breast halves (about 12 ounces each), each cut in half crosswise

4 tbsp unsalted butter

1 large onion, finely chopped

Salt and pepper

1 large clove garlic, minced

2 c Arborio rice

1 c dry white wine (suggested: sauvignon blanc)

2 oz grated parmesan cheese

1 tsp lemon juice

2 tbsp chopped parsley

2 tbsp chopped chives

Bring the broth and water to boil in large stock pot over high heat. Reduce to medium-low and keep liquid at a gentle simmer.

Meanwhile, heat olive oil in large Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the chicken, skin side down, and do not move until golden brown, 4 to 6 minutes. Turn pieces over and cook opposite side until lightly browned, about 2 minutes more. Add the chicken to the pot of simmering broth and simmer until fully cooked, about 10 to 15 minutes more. Transfer to a large plate and allow the broth to continue to simmer.

Add 2 tbsp of the butter to the Dutch oven used to cook the chicken, setting heat to medium. Add the onion and 3/4 tsp salt and cook, stirring frequently, until onion is soft, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for about a minute more, then add the rice. Stir until the rice is translucent around the edges, 3 to 4 minutes. Add the wine to the pan and stir constantly until all liquid is absorbed.

Add 5 cups of the warm broth, bring the mixture to a simmer and reduce heat to medium low. Cover and simmer until almost all of the broth has been absorbed and the rice is al dente, about 18 minutes. Stir twice during cooking.

Add an additional ¾ cup warm broth to the risotto, stirring gently until the rice gets creamy, 3 to 4 minutes. Add the parmesan, remove the pot from the heat and cover. Let the risotto stand for 5 minutes. Remove the skin and bones from the cooked chicken and shred or chop the meat into bite-sized pieces.

Uncover the pot and add the chicken, remaining butter, lemon juice, parsley, chives and salt and pepper to taste. If risotto seems too thick, add up to ½ c additional broth.

I recently bought a Crock Pot in an attempt to spend less of my evening slaving away at the stove. What I’ve discovered, though, is that Crock Pot cooking still requires a little slaving – you just do it in the morning before you go to work. Chopping onions at 7 a.m. is hardly glamorous, but the effort is worth it when I come home to a warm meal that simmers to perfection while I’m at work. My most recent Crock Pot meal comes courtesy of POM Wonderful (which was kind enough to send me some glorious free samples!) and Stephanie O’Dea, whose slow-cooker blog is filled with impressive Crock Pot recipes and techniques. An average chuck roast turned into something delectable when it simmered in a sauce made with pomegranate juice, fire roasted tomatoes, maple syrup and balsamic vinegar. I threw the meat and sauce in the Crock Pot along with onion, garlic and golden raisins, which got nice and plump after 8 hours of slow cooking. This dish was delicious straight from the pot, and even better the second day after I shredded the meat and let it sit in the sauce overnight.

Consider this recipe the next time you’re looking for an alternative to your tried and true pot roast recipe. Admittedly, the pomegranate juice is a little pricey, but it makes a ton of sauce – and you can usually find Pom Wonderful in 16 oz bottles if you’re concerned about leftovers going to waste.

Slow Cooker Pomegranate Beef

adapted from A Year of Slow Cooking

serves 8

1 tbsp olive oil
1 yellow onion, sliced
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp herbes de Provence
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp pepper
3 lb beef chuck roast
4 garlic cloves (whole is fine, or you can chop them)
1 14 oz can fire-roasted crushed tomatoes, such as Muir Glen (note: if you can’t find crushed, buy diced and puree them in the blender)
1 c unsweetened pomegranate juice, such as POM Wonderful
1/4 c balsamic vinegar
2 tbsp maple syrup
1/2 c golden raisins

Swirl the olive oil into the bottom of a large slow cooker (the original recipe suggests 6 qt or larger). Add the onion. Combine the cinnamon, herbes de Provence, salt and pepper in a small bowl and rub on all sides of the meat. Add to the slow cooker along with the garlic, tomatoes, pomegranate juice, vinegar, and syrup. Sprinkle the raisins on top. Cover the slow cooker and set to low. Cook for 8 hours or until the meat is tender. You can serve the met in chunks or use two forks to shred it. Serve the sauce as is, or take 1/2 to 3/4 cup and simmer it over medium high heat until it reduces and thickens slightly.

My trip to the Oakland farmer’s market yielded more than produce. At the suggestion of my friend Jess, I picked up some Lamb, Fennel and Sundried Tomato Sausages from Fabrique Delices, a CA company that sells its artisanal charcuterie at various Bay Area farmers markets. They were a little pricey, but when I purchase specialty items like this, I make it my mission to create at least two meals and get the biggest bang for my buck. After dividing the package in half, I whipped up some Sausage and Peppers to serve over another fun new product: Ivory Lentils!

I bought these last month from A Southern Season. I thought they were sort of exotic, but it turns out Ivory (White) Lentils are simply black lentils with the dark skin removed. Regardless, they had an interesting flavor and texture – similar to rice, but chewier.  I cooked one cup of dried lentils in 4 cups of chicken stock until they were tender and slightly creamy, then seasoned to taste with salt and pepper. For the Sausage and Peppers, I sauteed three whole sausages over medium heat until they began to brown, about 7 minutes. I then added one chopped green bell pepper and one chopped onion, sauteeing the vegetables alongside the sausages until everything was nice and brown. I sliced the sausages and served the mixture over the cooked lentils. Delicious, and so easy you don’t even need a real recipe!

With the remaining three sausages, I decided to do a twist on this lasagna recipe. I followed the directions as they are written, but used the lamb sausage in lieu of Italian sausage and added chopped sundried tomatoes to each layer of the lasagna. Oh. My. GOODNESS. It was so earthy and rich! The sundried tomatoes were a wonderful addition, a great complement to the flavors in the sausage.If you live outside the Bay Area and can’t get your hands on Fabrique Delices products, check your local Whole Foods or gourmet grocer for a similar lamb sausage. It really made the dish something special.