burning rice

Today was a cleaning day, when all those little jobs I’ve been avoiding demanded my attention. Most of my state has been under a wind chill advisory beginning last night at 10pm and ending around 4pm today. To be followed by a winter weather advisory for accumulating and blowing snow. I am beginning to believe the weather channel is now run by Henny Penny. Even though the roads are pretty terrible, it did not impede our weekly Friday night Starbucks ritual.  

Dinner tonight was green tomatillo enchiladas. It entailed poaching four chicken breasts, making a 1 cup of rice, opening two jars of tomatillo salsa that I made last fall, pulling a package of store bought tortillas out of the freezer, and grating a little cheese. Somehow this one dish meal ended up taking 1 ½ hours to prepare and dirtied a sink full of dishes, including a large stock pot, heat proof bowl, and insert from an electric rice cooker. It was well worth it.  

Now a confession: if there is one culinary skill I posses in spades, it is the ability to burn rice. I am told, by my mother, that this is a genetic endowment we share. For that reason, I always use a rice cooker, as does my mother, as does my sister. So, since I am dragging out a specialty appliance, I always make more rice than I need. I will simply plan another meal utilizing the extra rice later in the week, or, more likely than that, make rice pudding. I understand the French cook rice as if it were pasta, which even I should be able to manage without burning it, but honestly, I have a number of friends of Asian descent, I have been in their homes and seen a rice cooker proudly displayed on their kitchen counter tops. If it’s good enough for them, then it is good enough for me. 

Tomorrow is bread day, and I need to plan my meals for the rest of the week. I may begin this process tonight, but our budget is extremely limited, and I need to check the freezer and pantry to see what can be done with what is left.