Roasted bell peppers make the pasta sauce

I can't be the only one out there who simply can't stomach jarred spaghetti sauce. I'd rather open up a can of crushed tomatoes and simply heat it with some olive oil, garlic and red pepper flakes. There's something about the flavor that is so, oh, I don't know, I guess artificial.

If I have a little more time to spend on the sauce, though, my favorite thing to add is roasted bell peppers. Previously I've used a recipe that has you halve plum tomatoes and roast them for an hour at 375 with a red bell pepper and an entire clove of garlic wrapped in foil. The garlic part I'm a big fan of, but I think I might actually prefer simply using a can of tomatoes. Some people might think you're sacrificing flavor, but it's so much easier -- not to mention skinless.

Here's my new favorite pasta recipe. It makes enough for about four generous helpings that require bread to slop up the extra:

Roasted Bell Pepper Sauce

3 red, orange or yellow bell peppers

1/2 onion

14.5-ounce can tomatoes

3 T. extra-virgin olive oil, divided

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 t. kosher salt

Heat grill on high. Rub 1 T. olive oil on the cut side of the olive. Leave the skin on. Place onion cut side down on grill along with whole bell peppers. Check peppers every 5 minutes and turn to char the entire pepper. Turn the onion once or twice while peppers are cooking. When peppers are blackened and onion is soft, remove from grill. Place peppers in a bowl and cover with plastic wrap.

After vegetables are cool enough to handle, chop the onion, then remove the skin and seeds from the peppers and chop them. Place onion, peppers and tomatoes in a food processor and pulse until the sauce is well blended.

Heat 2 T. olive oil over medium-high in a skillet and cook garlic for about a minute. Add sauce and salt, and cook until heated through. Mix with your favorite pasta, and serve with fresh Parmesan.

Let the roll-making begin

You now how most people, when they get a bread machine, it just goes in their garage and gathers dust until they decide to sell it at a garage sale? Well, that's not me. I don't remember how I got obsessed with the idea of making bread, but right before I made my first loaf from scratch, Mom offered to give me her bread machine instead.

I was always anti the square loaves, until my friend Chelsea, who's a trained chef with impeccable taste, convinced me that they're not so bad. Pretty much any food-related item that Chelsea gives her stamp of approval to becomes good enough for me that easily. I am so gullible.

So began the obsession with baking break. It started with the recipes that came with the bread machine. But then I came across Beth Hensperger's "The Bread Lover's Bread Machine Cookbook," and I think it might have been love at first sight. I started making the recipes from front to back, then I got sidetracked by a few and now I'm all over the place. But I never strayed from loaves.

OK, I sculpted a few lopsided pizza crusts and calzones that started off in the bread machine, but I was really scared of anything having to do with cutting the dough into chunks. Rebekkah Denn once tried to convince me that cinnamon buns are easy to make after I marveled at her ability to make these overnight rolls and take care of her two children, but to no avail.

However, last night, I didn't really have a choice when Bryan came home with a delicious-smelling smoked port butt from his SouthPaw BBQ buddy. Well, I suppose I could have gone BACK to the store to get hamburger buns, but who wants to go to the grocery store twice in a day? That is just silly. It makes much more sense to just decide on a whim at 5 o'clock at night to make hamburger buns from scratch.

Oh my gosh, it was so easy! Why have I been scared of dough my whole life? I suppose it has to do with Mom's countless failures at getting it to rise, but that's when the bread machine comes in handy. The rest just takes a gentle touch and a lot of flour.

Now take a look at this scrumptiousness ...

The closest you can get to grilling risotto

As if we're going to let a little rain keep us from grilling. It is Labor Day weekend after all. Aren't barbecues a required event to see off summer?

And besides, I can't resist all the sale items that just beg for the grill. Yes, that's Mom's fault. She even called me this week specifically to tell me about a certain sale on steak and was trying to buy me an extra package to put in my freezer. I do not need extra packages of steak hanging out in my freezer. That just sounds like trouble. Not to mention that I'm gluttonous enough on my own, since I bought a package with three HUGE steaks in it -- and I spent a good hour the last two days pondering how I could use the third one on Day 2 without making another trip to the store.

Then it came to me: one of our favorite dishes, risotto, but this one I'd make barbecue style. We marinated the steaks overnight using Mom's recipe, but this time I added a mutant-sized clove of garlic that was equivalent to about three. Cooking in advance for the risotto meal, I threw an onion and a red bell pepper on the grill, using extra-virgin olive oil infused with garlic and sun-dried tomatoes that Mom made in her dehydrator (and grew in her garden!). And I made an extra ear of corn for the risotto, too, with the infused olive oil, salt and pepper rubbed all over it and cooked in foil over the flames.

Barbecue Steak Risotto
4 c. beef broth
2 T. olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 c. arborio rice
1/2 c. white wine
1 grilled onion, chopped
1 grilled red bell pepper, deseeded, skinned and chopped
1 grilled ear corn, cut off cob
2 green onions, chopped
1 lb. leftover grilled steak, cut in bite-sized chunks or strips
Parmesan cheese for garnish

Heat broth in a medium sauce pan and keep on low heat while you make the risotto.

Heat a second larger, heavy-bottomed pan over medium heat, then add olive oil and garlic. Cook for 30 seconds, then add arborio rice and stir for 2 minutes. Add wine and let simmer until wine is absorbed. Gradually stir in broth in 1/2 c. increments, waiting for the liquid to be absorbed before adding more broth. Stir frequently -- a wooden spoon with a long handle works best. When all the broth has been used (this usually takes about a half-hour), add onion, pepper, corn and green onion, and continue stirring until heated through. Add the steak and continue stirring until heated through. Add salt and pepper to taste, and serve with Parmesan cheese on the side.

If money's tight, try Chicken Gizzards

Even though Mom slaved over the barbecue and made us steak and ribs this week, some of the simplest accompanying dishes that she made are some of my favorites. I could eat this trio nightly and be happy: Stir-fried Chinese Broccoli, Chicken Gizzards and Spare Ribs.

I see you grossing out over the Chicken Gizzards, but I've been eating them my whole life - since long before I knew that not everybody thinks of them as the delicacy that they are.

If you like dark meat on chicken, there's no reason you won't like gizzards. And besides, they're cheap and this recipe is easy, so why not give it a try?

By the way, if you're a cilantro fan, Mom usually puts some in unless she remembers her hater daughter is coming over. Yes, for those of you who don't know, I hate cilantro with a passion and Mom tends to forget that because I think it literally pains her. She seems to think that Asians are genetically programmed to like cilantro, and that something is seriously wrong with me.

Since she and I are the only ones who eat the gizzards in the family, you'd think she'd remember to at least leave it out of the one dish she's making especially for us to share. But the last time she served me gizzards she'd put cilantro in them, and of course I took one bite and I knew. Needless to say, she was not happy that I wouldn't eat our special dish. I figured she learned her lesson. I guess she kinda did, though, because this time after she put cilantro in the gizzards, she remembered my cilantro hatred and washed each individual gizzard with a only mother's love. But my supertaster taste buds could still taste the devil's weed, and I couldn't indulge like I usually do. Poor Mom. Denied by her hater daughter.

Well, give this recipe a try. And let me know if you prefer it with or without cilantro!

Chicken Gizzards

1 pound chicken gizzards, washed well

1-2 t. sesame oil

2 scallion, cut in 1/2-inch pieces

1 clove garlic, minced

1 T. soy sauce

1-1/2 t. sugar

Heat sesame oil in a medium-sized sauce pan over medium-high heat. Add garlic and scallion, and cook for 2-3 minutes. Add gizzards, soy sauce and sugar, and mix well. Cover and cook over low heat for about 30 minutes, until gizzards are cooked through.

40 pounds of peaches canned in a day

Why, oh why, did Mom never teach me how to can? I remember eating jars and jars of canned peaches and pears when I was growing up, but I can't remember ever seeing Mom actually doing it -- although I do remember her later saying she would never do it again.

I think I'm going to get her to start up again. After all, I will need a partner to get started after taking a daylong lesson over the weekend at my friend Leslie's house. Plus, Mom lives closer to the rural parts of the county where you can actually come out ahead when you can, unlike us city folk who can end up spending an arm and a leg to "save money" on canning.

So what did we can? Forty pounds of peaches and 5 pounds of green beans!!! I suppose to people who actually can regularly, that's nothin'. Our instructor, a mutual friend with whom Leslie once worked and I went to college, said she normally cans 100 pounds in a day. And she has two children. And I have no excuses! Well, I still have yet to buy the equipment, but I'm hoping Costco will have it all in a big package in honor of the season the next time I go. Or maybe I'll just hit up some estate sales or look on Craigslist.

The class was wonderful, though. Laura and our other instructor, Kathy, gathered herbs in bulk (the only way to buy, apparently!) for us to use as we desired in our peaches and pickled green beans. I used a piece of vanilla bean, a couple of cardamon pods and a cinnamon stick in my peaches; and I got two jars of green beans: a spicy one with probably too many hot peppers, basil and garlic; and one to share with my friend Nicole, who can't handle spicy food, with just dill and garlic. Can't open them for at least a month, so if you're lucky, I'll come back with a full report.

I finally tried the peach jam today on an English muffin and it was absolutely heavenly. Looks like Leslie is responsible for yet another hobby in my overhobbified life!

Battle of the peach pies

Now this was the Peach Pie I wanted to make for Mom's birthday party. Isn't it beautiful? I know, I should have taken a shot of it after it was actually baked, but I couldn't find the right lighting (it's the only excuse I can think of!).

So here's the saga. I found this great recipe that ran in the Seattle P-I three years ago that I always wanted to make, and after Nicole served me some delicious peach pie last week, I knew I had to finally give it a whirl.

But unfortunately, I went to the local Asian store, HT Oaktree Market, for my supplies. Technically it's an "ethnic" store, which I should be the first to admit since I went there to buy the usual: Mexican food. Well, sometimes I get Asian food there, too! But no, usually it's Mexican food fixins.

Anyway, since Stephen doesn't have a grill, we decided tacos would be nice and easy for the 13 people (including three, count 'em, three teenage girls) that would be eating at his house. I made another P-I recipe: Mexican Pulled Pork, and he sauteed some spiced-up chicken with garlic and onions to go with all the expected fare: cole slaw (with a little chipotle), a few homemade salsas from Stephen (we'll have to ask him for the recipes), tomatoes, cheese, sour cream, lettuce, refried beans, Mai Ling's Guacamole (ask nicely and maybe I'll share) that actually was devoured before the tacos were served, a billion different kinds of tortillas, and I'm sure I'm forgetting a few special details. Alas we hadn't considered that maybe the Asian side of the family wasn't very familiar with tacos ... but hey, let's be honest, some of the stuff I eat at their house I'm pretty unfamiliar with, too!

Needless to say, there were some leftovers. But there wasn't any leftover pie, and talk about an ugly pie. Why, you ask?

Well, I know I should make my own pie crust, but somebody's got to keep the Pillsbury Dough Boy alive. So I sought him out at the HT Mart, but all I could find were crappy frozen crusts. Nor could I find the vanilla bean needed for Hsiao-Ching Chou's recipe. So I thawed out my frozen crusts and searched my unphotographic memory for the recipe Nicole had used when I was at her house: six peaches, 1/3 c. flour, 2/3 c. sugar and 1/4 t. cinnamon. Turned out fabulous ... but ugly. Using a frozen crust, no matter how thawed out it is, simply cannot look good on top of a pie.

Obviously, it didn't matter to the eaters, so I shouldn't care, but I just had to prove that I could make it pretty.

So later in the week, I got my standby Pillsbury refrigerated crusts and set out to make this beaut. Okay, here's the disclaimer. It was totally soupy!!! I think maybe the peaches were too ripe, if that's possible. Or maybe I didn't bake it long enough? Or maybe the beautiful crust is to blame, because unlike the first crust that expelled half the peaches' juices, this one kept 'em all in. Soupy, sure, but dang, did it taste good. Here's the P-I's recipe, from "The Baker's Dozen Cookbook":

Vanilla Peach Pie
3/4 c. packed light or dark brown sugar
3 T. all-purpose flour (I wouldn't hold it against you if you added a little more, just in case!)
1/2 t. ground cinnamon
Pinch of salt
1-inch piece vanilla bean, split
7 ripe medium peaches, peeled pitted and cut into 1/4-inch-thick slices
1 T. fresh lemon juice
Butter Pie Dough or Cream Cheese Pie Dough (or Pillsbury!!!)
1 T. unsalted butter

In a medium bowl, mix the brown sugar, flour, cinnamon and salt. Using the tip of a knife, scrape out the tiny seeds from the vanilla bean and add to the mixture. The pod can be saved for another purpose or discarded. Add the peaches and lemon juice and toss.

Fit the dough into a 9-inch pie pan. Fill the shell with the peach mixture and dot with butter. Trim the overhanging dough to a 1/2-inch overhang. Center the remaining dough over the filling. Fold the top crust under the edge of the bottom crust and pinch together firmly to seal. Crimp the dough. Cut a few slits in the top crust to allow the steam to escape. Place the pie on a baking sheet and refrigerate for 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, position a rack in the bottom third of the oven and preheat to 375 degrees.

Bake the pie for 10 minutes. Reduce heat to 350 and continue baking until the crust is golden brown and the peaches are tender when pierced through a slit with the tip of a knife, 50 minutes to 1 hour.

Cool 1-2 hours before cutting.

Late night eating in the ID

And we thought we were being so clever by taking the bus to the Sounders vs. Barcelona game on Wednesday. Ha!

Oh, it probably was better than trying to drive through the mayhem, but we sure as heck didn’t want to stand in line at the bus stop for an hour. Nor did we want to struggle with the drunks in Pioneer Square. So we instead headed to the International District to see if anything was open where we could grab a bite to eat.

If only we'd paid a little closer attention. Just that weekend The Seattle Weekly had published an article about the "Ragin' Asian" scene in Seattle that keeps ID restaurants open until as late as 3:30 a.m. Unbeknownst to us, we could have gone to any number of restaurants within minutes of the ID bus station, but luckily the place we found turned out to be a real gem.

What led us there was a sign on King Street that Bryan thought said Noodles, so we walked toward it and saw the sign actually said Models. No worries, though, because right next to it was a cafe that really did say noodles and it had people in it, so we ended up at the Homestyle Hong Kong Cafe.

I was not disappointed. The menu was full of congee and different kinds of noodles and other dishes. But I saw congee and there was no turning back. There was a moment when I was wondering if it was appropriate to order congee at night, since it's typically something Mom serves in the morning, but then I saw "real" Asians ordering it so I figured I was good to go!

When the congee, which I ordered with preserved duck eggs and pork, arrived I was so excited it didn't cross my mind that since the congee was sizzling, the stone pot it was in was probably even hotter. Um, ouch. So watch out for the bowl, but do get the congee if rice cooked into mush sounds like something you would like.

My former Seattle P-I co-worker, Hsiao-Ching Chou, who has gone on to do much bigger and better things in the foodie world, includes some instructions on making congee here, but stay tuned for Mom's. She told me once how she makes it and it made my head spin. It's supposed to be a simple meal, but of course Mom turns in into a gourmet masterpiece. And people wonder why I fear cooking Chinese food!

I do think I'm going to try to bring Mom to the Homestyle Hong Kong Cafe someday, even though she hates eating out. Let somebody else make the congee for once!