Stirfried Chicken and Peppers with Spiced Lemon Honey

Where have I been for all these months? Life, as it does sometimes, exploded all over the place, quite literally in a couple cases. I came home from a nice trip up to the Silicon Valley to discover that the plumbing had backed up, and everything that had been flushed away had exploded into my bathroom and bedroom. This was a major cleanup operation, while I camped out in someone else’s bedroom for the duration. Our handyman took forever to finish it up. I had only sporadic access to a connected computer during that time, since my computer was in my bedroom. By the time our handyman finally finished with the cleanup, repair, and remodeling, the true heat of summer hit. My wimpy little wall-mounted air conditioner could not cool the oven my room becomes during the summer. It’s made worse by the fact that my room is a converted garage and has no insulation. So I continued to camp out and live on the ten days’ worth of clothing I’d taken on my trip.

At long last, it began to cool off enough that I could start to think about moving back into my room. I was back in college, my classes were going well, and everything seemed to be going pretty well. Right up until I came home from class one day, anyway. In spite of the previous work done, the replacement of bathroom fixtures, the cleaning of the pipes, it happened again. A brand new explosion of raw sewage into my bedroom. I have continued camping out and living out of my suitcase. Come February, it will have been a year since the first incident drove me out.

I used to say every summer when the heat got to be too much that my room was really shitty. I didn’t expect to be taken quite so literally.

The process is under way to move me into a different room. My old one will have the plumbing capped off and become storage. Before I can move into it, though, the heater needs to be repaired. It’s down in the 20s at night currently, and hypothermia doesn’t sound like the best way to spend the winter break.

Meantime, cooking is a good way to take out frustrations, though I don’t think that it’s helping anyone’s opinion of my sanity. I start prepping something, my cat comes along to attack my right foot, and before long, there’s quite a scene developing. The cat lies on his side, swiping at my right foot, which I’m holding up just out of his reach while I balance on one foot. I’ve got a deadline, a time dinner has to be prepared by, so I just keep working like that. Once in a while he’ll make a more energetic lunge, and give me the cat claw equivalent of a paper cut. I yelp and holler for help, which no one hears or pays attention to. In between, “OW! Hey, HELP!” I slice and chop enthusiastically, still balanced on one foot, and accuse whatever I’m cutting as the source of my bedroom’s woes. “Take that! And that!” is periodically sprinkled through the accusations. (Hey, I need to take the frustration out on something other than the housemates!) If I’m not talking to the ingredients, I’m singing opera while prepping and balanced on one foot. Another cat hops up on a stool near the kitchen island and tries to steal scallions, and I start smacking her fat little paw away from the food. In response, the cat stands on her head on the stool. Eventually, she does a somersault and almost falls off. I start laughing so hard that I almost fall over, since I’m not at my most stable while balanced on one foot. This usually scares away all cats in the vicinity, and I think I can get some uninterrupted work done, but it’s at this point someone else in the household comes in to do something right where I need to be next. I wind up sitting and waiting for them to get done, by which time the cats have gotten over being spooked. The whole thing starts all over again, beginning with the cat with the foot fetish.

It’s a good thing that I normally thrive on chaos. There’s no other way to describe what attempts at cooking around here always degenerate into.

In spite of it all, good food still comes out of the kitchen chaos, such as this experiment.

Infused Broth

For really spectaculars soups and as a base for flavorful sauces, an infused broth is the answer. The same basic procedures used in this infusion I developed can be used to infuse a wide range of other flavors into your broths and stocks. Give this one a try, and then the sky’s the limit! The possibilities for flavors to support and complement your soups and sauces are limited only by your creativity.

The most crucial step is sweating the vegetables. This is the step that will give your broths and stocks the flavorful goodness of whatever you are using. Don’t rush this step!

Infused Broth

3 large heads of garlic, rock-hard
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 small onion, sliced thin
1 small jalapeño or other green chili, tips removed and cut in half lengthwise
12 slices of fresh ginger, about the size of a quarter
12 cups chicken stock or boxed chicken broth
juice of half a lemon
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. and move a rack to the middle position.

Place the heads of garlic on a baking sheet and roast until tender, about 30 to 40 minutes. Don’t worry if some black ooze bubbles from the top, as it will not affect flavor. When roasted, smash the heads of garlic to break up the cloves.

Put the oil into a non-aluminum, heavy stockpot with a 4-quart capacity and swirl to glaze the bottom. Heat the oil over very low heat until a slice of onion sizzles gently upon contact. Add the onion, chili, ginger, and roasted garlic. Stir to combine. Cover the pot, keeping the heat very low. Sweat the vegetables until the onion turns translucent and the vegetables and aromatics become soupy, 15 to 30 minutes. Stir occasionally to keep the mixture from sticking.

Add the chicken stock or broth and raise the heat to moderate. Bring the mixture to a near boil, and then adjust the heat to maintain a steady simmer for 1 hour. Add the lemon juice, salt, and pepper in the last 15 minutes.

Remove the pot from the heat. Let stand, uncovered and undisturbed, for 1 hour to let the vegetables steep in the broth.

Line a fine-mesh sieve with several layers of dampened cheese cloth and strain the mixture through it. Spoon off excess oil from the surface of the resulting infused broth. Discard the vegetables and aromatics.