Letting Life Lead
It’s that time of the week again where the dregs and leavings in the refrigerator get put through the “sniff and keep or gag and toss” process. This day was rather fruitful and it began with a bag of thawed whiting fish I’d put in there to thaw the other day and then forgot about. The four fish fillets needed to be used. This recipe has no measurements, so if you are a cook who likes precise numbers I’m going to have to disappoint. This recipe was inspired by: A Chowder to Cry On from Bonjour Lundy.
We are cooking freestyle! Be a bad ass. Put down the cookbook and play a little potluck roulette. You don’t need no measuring cups or spoons either — you’ve got two palms and eyeballs. Use them. Are you feeling lucky?
The ingredients used in approximations are:
1 lb of whiting fish (aka. cheap fish)
1 medium onion finely diced
4 small, and 1 gigantic potato diced small, skin on (appropriately old and past prime, but still good.)
1 can of creamed corn from the back of the cabinet (ooo, this was a dent discount find from three weeks ago)
2 cups give or take a cup of milk leftover from yogurt making and nearing expiration date
2 strips of cooked, crisp bacon leftover from breakfast the other day, chopped fine
2 tablespoon spoons of butter
2 big cloves of garlic starting to sprout
1/2 cup flour (I think; you’ll have to wing it)
salt (to taste)
pepper (to taste)
Old Bay seasoning (pour in palm, toss in, cook, taste. Repeat. Add a bit more. Repeat. Quit while you are ahead)
Saute the onion in half the butter with the garlic. Add potatoes, fish, and water enough to cover an inch past the potatoes. Cook for a while and stare into the pot. Add the creamed corn, seasonings, and bacon. Adjust seasonings to your taste. Cook until the house smells good and the potatoes are cooked. Use a spoon to break up the fish into pieces in the pot. Dissolve some flour in the milk and add to the pot. Cook until thick. If not thick enough add more flour; if not creamy enough add more milk. Toss in the butter. Eat.
More potluck additions: some cheddar cheese and leftover rice scrounged from the refrigerator to turn the chowder into a more hearty stew in the bowl.
I make no promises that yours will turn out good. This experiment was delicious. My daughter had two helpings for lunch, and a big bowl for dinner without complaining. My son was disappointed that I didn’t cook muffins. You can please some of the minions some of the time, but you can’t please both of the minions at the same time ever.
The Literary (or Junk) Writings of Leslie Muzingo
Poetry, History, Mythology
Confessions of a White Trash Hoe
Learn to Live
Fiction, Nonfiction, and Poetry Journal
TinyPurpleMe: Part Two
Illustrated Short Stories
Essays and reviews on narrative in games and new media
My reflections of life in general.